Sir Francis Bacon's Journals

Home , Accession Day tilt, Delia Bacon, Elizabeth Hatton, John Bennet (judge), Robert Tofte, Roderigo Lopez

Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals Also by author In Remembrance (Noble House, 2003) Closing Stages (Noble House, 2004) The Elenpilates Stockpile Workbook (iUniverse publications, 2004) Arrow to the Moon (Selected as a quarterﬁ nalist in the American Screenwriter Association’s 9th Annual International Screenplay Competition, 2006) Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

The Rarest of Princes

Lochithea

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ISBN: 978-0-595-46034-2 (pbk) ISBN: 978-0-595-90335-1 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America In memory of Sr FRANCIS BACON Lord VERVLAM Vyccount St. ALBANS Ld Chancellor of ENGLAND

Signatur ne perdatur MENTE.VIDEBORI

He, that concealed things will ﬁ nd, must look before him, and behind —Henry Peacham

If Shakespeare wrote these plays, he most probably did so between the years 1586 and 1611; if Bacon wrote them, he most probably did so between the years 1580 and 1607 —W. H. Smith

If there was a Shakespeare of earth (as I suspect), there was also one of heaven; and it is of him we desire to know something —Hallam, 1842

Contents

Preface/Sir Francis Bacon’s Pardon ...... xi

Acknowledgments ...... xvii

Introduction ...... 1

Genesis 1560 (61) his birth to 1584 of the age twenty-three ...... 11

King Of Pleasure 1584 (85) of the age twenty-four to 1590 of the age twenty-nine ...102

Moniti meliora 1591 (92) of the age thirty to 1594 of the age thirty-three ...... 135

The Heart 1595 (96) of the age thirty-four to 1599 of the age thirty-eight ...... 207

Trials Be Trials 1600 (01) of the age thirty-nine to 1610 of the age fourty-nine ...... 249 Part I ...... 249 Part II ...... 309

Trials Be Trials 1611 (12) of the age fi fty to 1616 of the age fi fty-fi ve ...... 348 Part III ...... 348

Quirinus 1617 (18) of the age ﬁ fty-six to 1622 of the age sixty-one ...... 408

Father Of Salomon’s House 1623 (24) of the age sixty-two to 1625 of the age sixty-four ...... 483

To Live Twice A Day 1626 of the age sixty-ﬁ ve and the future ...... 514

ix x Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Epilogue ...... 559 The Spedding Collection of Baconiana ...... 559 The Northumberland Manuscript ...... 575 Law Sports at Grey’s Inn ...... 580

Author’s Epilogue ...... 581 My Lord Verulam’s Death ...... 581 The Capias Utlagatum ...... 587 The Slow Poisoners ...... 590 Queen Elizabeth I., Lord Verulam’s Mother ...... 597 Lord Verulam, The Royal Intelligencer ...... 597 William Shakespeare’s Will & Testament ...... 600 Promus Of Formularies and Elegancies ...... 604

Afterword Baconians/In Memory ...... 617

About the Author ...... 639

Lord Verulam’s Lexicon ...... 641

Bibliography Contents/Author’s Library ...... 651 Preface/Sir Francis Bacon’s Pardon

I To Sir Humphrey May, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster Good Mr. Chancellor, I did wonder what was become of you, and was very glad to hear you were come to court; which methinks, as the times go, should miss you as well as I. I send you another letter, which I writ to you of an old date, to avoid repetition; and I continue my request then to you, to sound the Duke of Buckingham’s good affection towards me, before you do move him in the particular petitions. Only the present occasion doth invite me to desire that his Grace would procure me a pardon of the King of the whole sentence. My writ for Parliament I have now had twice before the time, and that without any express restraint not to use it. It is true that I shall not be able, in respect of my health, to attend in Parliament; but yet I mought make a proxy. Time hath turned envy to pity; and I have had a long cleansing week of ﬁ ve years’ expiation and more. Sir John Bennet hath his pardon; my Lord of Somerset hath his pardon; and, they say, shall sit in Parliament. My Lord of Suffolk cometh to Parliament, though not to Council. I hope I deserve not to be the only outcast. God keep you. I ever rest your most affectionate friend to do you service. I wish you a good new year. Fra. Bacon

The above letter was written at the beginning of the New Year 1626, and in contemplation of the meeting of a new Parliament that met on February 6th. Francis Bacon was well enough to come to London; three months later, he died. The 1622 records of Parliament show that the circumstances of Francis Bacon’s conviction encouraged suitors to attempt to get his decrees set aside; that several such attempts were made, but that they all failed; this is strongly suggested by Aubrey: “His decrees in Chancery stand ﬁ rm. There are fewer of his decrees reversed than of any other Chancellor,” and is strongly seen in Francis Bacon’s own words to Buckingham in a letter from the Tower, 31st May, 1621:

To the Marquis of Buckingham Good My Lord, procure the warrant for my discharge this day. Death, I thank God, is so far from being unwelcome to me, as I have called for it (as Christian resolution would permit) any time these two months. But to die before the time of his Majesty’s grace, and in this disgraceful place, is even the worst that could be;

xi xii Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and when I am dead, he is gone that was always in one tenor, a true and perfect servant to his master, and one that was never author of any immoderate, no, nor unsafe, no (I will say it) not unfortunate counsel; and one that no temptation could ever make other than a trusty, and honest and thrice loving friend to your Lordship; and howsoever I acknowledge the sentence just, and for reformation sake ﬁ t, the justest Chancellor that hath been in the ﬁ ve changes since Sir Nicholas Bacon’s time. God bless and prosper your Lordship, whatsoever become of me. Your Lordship’s true friend, living and dying. Fra. St Alban.

Spedding comments on the letter: “Dr. Rawley, whose affectionate reverence preserved the record, took the precaution to write it in a cipher, and never published or alluded to it in print. It is found in a commonplace book, begun apparently soon after Bacon’s death and containing memoranda of various kind, most of them especially in the earlier part, relating to him and his works. The fi rst few pages are fi lled almost entirely with Apophthegms; two or three of which are written in a kind of simple cipher, the Greek character being used for the consonants, and the fi rst fi ve numerals for the vowels; the rest in Rawley’s usual hand. Opposite to many of them is written, “stet,” with a number affi xed; which means no doubt that they were to be included in the collection of Bacon’s Apophthegms which were afterwards printed in the second edition of the Resuscitatio. At the top of the fi rst page stands this sentence, written in the cipher and not marked or numbered; a sentence which I suppose Rawley had been forbidden to publish, but could not allow to perish:

“I was the justest judge that was in England these ﬁ fty years. But it was the justest censure in Parliament that was these two hundred years.”

On July 30th the year 1624, Bacon forwards a petition that it should be recommended to King James I.:

An Humble Petition Of The Lord St Albans To His Majesty Before I make my petition to your Majesty, I make my prayers to God above, pectore ab imo, that if I have held anything so dear as your Majesty’s service, nay your heart’s ease, and your honour’s, I may be repulsed with a denial. But if that hath been the principal with me, that God, who knoweth my heart, would move your Majesty’s royal heart to take compassion of me and to grant my desire. I prostrate myself at your Majesty’s feet; I, your ancient servant, now sixty-four years old in age, and three years ﬁ ve months old in misery. I desire not from your Majesty means, nor place, nor employment, but only, after so long a time of expiation, a complete and total remission of the sentence of the Upper House, to the end that blot of ignominy may be removed from me, and from my memory with posterity; that I die not a condemned man, but may be to your Majesty, as I am to God, nova creatura. Your Majesty hath pardoned the like to Sir John Bennet, between whose case and mine (not being partial to myself, but speaking out of the general opinion) there was a much difference, I will not say as between black and white, but as between black and grey, or ash-coloured. Look therefore down, dear Sovereign, upon me also in pity. I know your Majesty’s heart is Lochithea xiii inscrutable for goodness; and my Lord of Buckingham was wont to tell me you were the best-natured man in the world; and it is God’s property, that those he hath loved, he loveth to the end. Let your Majesty’s grace, in this my desire, stream down upon me, and let it be out of the fountain and spring-head, and ex mero motu, that, living or dying, the print of the goodness of King James may be in my heart, and his praises in my mouth. This my most humble request granted, may make me live a year to two happily; and denied, will kill me quickly. But yet the last thing that will die in me will be the heart and affection of your Majesty’s most humble, and true devoted servant. Fr. St Alban

Spedding comments on the circumstances surrounding this pardon: “We fi nd in the Cabala, printed 1663 on page 270, a warrant addressed by the King to the Attorney General [Thomas Coventry] with directions to prepare a full pardon; to which the editor who fi rst introduced it into Bacon’s works has prefi xed the words: “In answer to the foregoing by King James.” But for this I fi nd no authority, and as I am informed by Mr. Gardiner that no traces of Bacon’s pardon are to be found either on the Patent Rolls from 1623 to his death, or in the Signet Offi ce Docquet books, I conclude that this was only the answer which he [Bacon] wished for and drew up for the King to sign; but that it never was signed. The warrant as printed in the Cabala runs thus:

King James His Letter To His Trusty And Well Beloved Thomas Coventry, Our Attorney General. Trusty and Well-beloved, we greet you well: whereas our right trusty and right well-beloved cousin, the Viscount of St Alban, upon a sentence given in the Upper House of Parliament full three years since, and more, hath endured loss of his place, imprisonment and confi nement also for a great time, which may suffi ce for the satisfaction of justice, and example to others: we being always graciously inclined to temper mercy with justice, and calling to mind his former good services, and how well and profi tably he hath spent his time since his troubles, are pleased to remove from him that blot of ignominy which yet remaineth upon him, of incapacity and disablement; and to remit to him all penalties whatsoever infl icted by that sentence. Having therefore formerly pardoned his fi ne, and released his confi nement, these are to will and require you to prepare for our signature a Bill containing a pardon in due form of law of the whole sentence; for which this shall be your suffi cient warrant.

II The above material has been taken from Spedding’s Life and Times of Francis Bacon, vol ii, published in 1878; the following has been taken from Baconiana, An Account of The Life of Lord Bacon p. xxv, 1679, with kind permission from the British Library:

“On the 20th of September 1621, his Majesty signed a warrant to Sir Thomas Coventry his Attorney General to prepare an assignment of the Parliamentary ﬁ ne, to such persons as his Lordship should name. And on the 12th of October following, sent the Attorney a warrant to draw up a Book for a Pardon of the Lord St. Alban, either after the form of a Coronation Pardon, or of such as was lately granted to Sir Robert Cotton, (with an xiv Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

exception nevertheless of the sentence given in the high Court of Parliament which the Lord Keeper Williams seems to oppose, with a little acrimony, and the Attorney Coventry with all civility, fearing the pardon was in too general words, otherwise he writes he was willing to perform all good services to his Lordship, whose downfall he had often pitied.”

III Signing of a Petition to restore Sir Francis Bacon’s name The author, in collaboration with Sir Francis Bacon’s New Advancement of Learning Web site, appeal you join them in signing an online petition that can be found at either link: www.sirbacon.org www.gopetition.com/online/12576.html

This online petition is bound for the United Nations Secretary General, the British government and her Majesty, The Queen. As Baconians, we have the loyalty in restoring Francis Bacon’s name and memory that he leaves “to foreign nations, and to mine own Countrymen, after some time be passed over.”

IV The Dignity And Advancement Of Learning. Book II. Chap. Ix1 Another division of the History of Times into Annals and Journals. The History of Times is also rightly divided into Annals and Journals; which division, though it takes its name from periods of time, yet has also reference to the choice of subjects. For it is well observed by Cornelius Tacitus, after touching upon the magniﬁ cence of certain buildings, “That it was found suitable to the dignity of the Roman people to commit to Annals only matters of note, but such things as these to the Journals of the City;” thus referring matters concerning the state to Annals, but the less important kind of actions or accidents to Journals. Certainly, in my judgment, there ought to be a kind of heraldry in arranging the precedence of books, no less than of persons. For as nothing derogates from the dignity of a State more than confusion of ranks and degrees, so it not a little embases the authority of a history to intermingle matters of lighter moment, such as triumphs, ceremonies, spectacles, and the like, with matters of State. And surely it were to be wished that this distinction came into fashion. But in our times Journals are only used in sea-voyages and expeditions of war; whereas in ancient times it was a matter of honour with Princes to keep Journals of what passed day by day in their Courts; as we see in the case of Ahasuerus, King of Persia, who, when he could not take rest, called for the Chronicles, where he read over again the account of the conspiracy

1 Spedding: Works, vol. viii. p. 432–433 Lochithea xv of the Eunuchs. But the Journals of Alexander’s House expressed every small particularity, so that even if he happened to sleep at table it was registered. Not that, as none but grave manners were included in the Annals, so none but triﬂ ing ones were admitted into Journals; but everything, whether of greater or less concern, was promiscuously entered in the Journals as it passed.

V The Dignity And Advancement Of Learning. Book II. Chap. XII2 Of the Appendices to History; which deal with the Words of Men (as History itself deals with their Actions). The division thereof into Orations, Letters, and Apophthegms. But not only man’s actions, but his words also should be recorded. And these are no doubt sometimes inserted in history itself, so far as they contribute to the perspicuity and weight of the narrative. But the sayings or words of men are properly preserved in books of Speeches, Letters, and Apophthegms. Certainly the Speeches of wise men on business and matters of grave and deep importance conduce greatly as well to the knowledge of the things themselves as to eloquence. But for instruction in civil prudence, still greater help is derived from Letters written by great men on weighty subjects. For of all the words of man nothing is more solid and excellent than letters of this kind; for they are more natural than orations, and more advised than conferences on the sudden. And when there is a continued series of them in order of time (as we fi nd in the letters of Ambassadors, Governors of provinces, and other Ministers of State, to Kings, Senates, and other superior offi cers; or, again, in the letters of rulers to their agents), they are of all others the most valuable materials for history. Neither are Apophthegms themselves only for pleasure and ornament, but also for use and action. For they are (as was said) “words which are as goads,” words with an edge or point that cut and penetrate the knots of business and affairs. Now occasions are continually returning, and what served once will serve again; whether produced as man’s own or cited as an old saying. Nor can there be any question of the utility in civil matters of that which Cæsar himself thought worthy of his labour; whose book of Apophthegms I wish were extant; for all the collections which we have of this kind appear to me to have been compiled without much judgment. And so much concerning history; which is that part of learning which answers to one of the cells, domiciles, or offi ces of the mind of man, which is that of the memory.

2 ibid., p. 437–439

Acknowledgments

To know him is to be happy; to have been at school with him, distinguished; the young and pure will not believe a thing true because it is made to look false —William Hepworth Dixon of the Inner Temple1

I trudge through the picturesque medieval streets, passing cottage houses and Bacon Drive into a country village forming part of the city, which lies almost at the centre of the Roman site. The Saxon parish of St. Michael’s stands above the buried remains of the forum, an administrative centre of where St. Alban2 most possibly was tried and convicted to death. From the fragrant surroundings of roses, I see members of a local theatre company, The Company of Ten, prepare to perform a Shakespearean play; if this be tributary, then play on bold creators, for as Delia Bacon said, “the free-masonry of learning is old indeed. It runs its mountain chain of signals through all the ages, and men whom times and kindreds have separated ascend from their week-day toil, and hold their Sabbaths and

1 Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861 2 Albert G. Mackey: The Principles of Masonic Law a Treatise on the Constitutional Laws, Usages And Landmarks of Freemasonry, 1856: “Grand Lodges under their present organization, are, in respect to the antiquity of the Order, of a comparatively modern date. We hear of no such bodies in the earlier ages of the institution. The ﬁ rst historical notice that we have of the formation of a supreme controlling body of the fraternity, is in the Gothic Constitutions which assert that, in the year 287, St. Alban, the protomartyr of England, who was a zealous patron of the craft, obtained from Carausius, the British Emperor, “a charter for the Masons to hold a General Council, and gave it the name of assembly.” The record further states, that St. Alban attended the meeting and assisted in making Masons, giving them “good charges and regulations.” We know not, however, whether this assembly ever met again; and if it did, for how many years it continued to exist. The subsequent history of Freemasonry is entirely silent on the subject. The General Assembly was, in fact, precisely similar to those political congregations which, in our modern phraseology, we term “mass meetings.” We have another record of the General Assembly, which was held in York on December 27, 1561, when Queen Elizabeth, who was suspicious of their secrecy, sent an armed force to dissolve the meeting. A copy is still preserved of the regulations which were adopted by a similar assembly held in 1663, on the festival of St. John the Evangelist; and in these regulations it is declared that the private lodges shall give an account of all their acceptations made during the year to the General Assembly.”

xvii xviii Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals synods on those heights. They whisper, and listen, and smile, and shake the head at one another; they laugh, and weep, and complain together; they sing their songs of victory in one key. That machinery is so fi ne, that the scholar can catch across the ages, the smile, or the whisper, which the contemporary tyranny had no instrument fi rm enough to suppress, or fi ne enough to detect.”3 The Verulamium Museum’s paraphernalia regarded the Roman England era and exhibited a supplemented collection to provide a look at the lives of the ordinary Egyptians. Brief polite conversation with the teller, which we shall call Dave, takes place: “Would you know if Sir Francis Bacon’s monument is open to the public this day?” “Now that’s a diffi cult question to answer.” Dave leans over the counter. “You aren’t a Rosicrosse are you?” He continues: “Well, there’s a story that he ain’t buried here. Lots of stories there are. His wife being young and all, buried him somewhere and never told anyone exactly where. Lots of stories.4 He used to meet them in a local Inn near here. Hartthorn was it now? No, Headthorn, maybe. Can’t remember the exact name, but they used to meet all right.” I refrained from prolonging my stay and found my path toward St. Michael’s Chapel. No sign where Lord Bacon’s monument could be located, only a time notice of evening mass. I looked down at my watch: 3:00pm. But the Chapel was locked, which should have been open to the public as stated on their Web site. I roamed around the small stone path that turned and enveloped around this small parish. The stone path made up of grave- stones that reminded me of Schindler’s List. After half an hour, I thought it better to leave; besides, I did have an hour walk back to the train station. The above path was one of many I had walked to research the material in your hands Reader; those paths led to various prestigious bodies that I owe my overwhelming gratitude:

British Library Reading Rooms: Rare Books and Manuscripts, Humanities 1 The National Portrait Gallery, London Channel 4, London

3 Delia Bacon: The Philosophy of the Play of Shakspere Unfolded, 1857 4 C. Le Poer Kennedy: Notes and Queries after an extensive search was made for Lord Bacon’s remains, Kennedy writes that “a partition wall was pulled down, and the search extended into the part of the vault immediately under the monument, but no remains were found.” Walter C. Arensberg, in the early nineteenth century, began hunting on a long road of ciphers that he found in various works of the sixteenth and nineteenth century: (1) The Hand Guide to Lichfi eld Cathedral (2) The Address on The Chapter House (3) The Advancement of Learning, 1640 (4) The Works of Publius Virgilius Maro, 1654 (5) The Church-History of Britain, 1655 (6) The Antiquities of Warwickshire, 1656 (7) Remaines Concerning Britain, 1657 (8) The Natural History of Straffordshire, 1686 (9) Cathedral Antiquities of England, 1836 (10) The Rosicrucians, their Rites and Mysteries, 1887 (11) Handbook of Lichfi eld Cathedral, 1892 and (12) the ticket admission to the church at Stratford, printed in 1923. In deciphering “keys and locks” he came to the conclusion that Lord Bacon and his mother, Anne Bacon, were not buried at St. Michael’s in St. Albans, but in the Chapter House, Lichfi eld, Straffordshire in England.— See Walter C, Arensberg: The Burial of Francis Bacon and his mother in the Lichfi eld Chapter House Lochithea xix

BBC, Scotland The British Museum Library Verulamium Museum, St. Albans St. Michael’s Church, St. Albans

My thank you is no less due to Dave at the Verulamium Museum, St. Albans; Mr. Peter Ellis at Cecil Court, London, for his concern in collecting some rare materials upon my request and to Henry Pordes Books Ltd., at Charing Cross, London. For any additional information gathered, I would like to thank the Rare Book Review Magazine; Wikipedia; The Globe Theatre, London; Kessinger Publishing’s Rare Reprints, USA; Albiris Publishing, USA; The Francis Bacon Society Incorporated; Mr. Lawrence Gerald, moderator/owner of Sir Francis Bacon’s New Advancement of Learning Web site (www.sirbacon.org). Much of the factual information added has been collected by salt-pits, as Cicero said, that you might extract salt out of, and sprinkle it where you will. They serve to be interlaced in continued speech: they serve to be recited, upon occasion, in themselves.5 All original documents and manuscripts that have been quoted from have been reproduced with the kind permission of the British Library. Texts have been left in their original Elizabethan usage of spelling with minor spelling changes made. Any quoted text has been sufﬁ ciently addressed to the author, title, publisher, and date of publishing in footnotes. As regards to the cover page, I owe my overwhelming gratitude to Henry Peacham, Mr. of Artes, for his emblem published in the Minerva Britanna, 1612 and to my parents who offered me this extraordinary book for my twentieth birthday in 1981. Since my father used to be in the antiquity business, most of my personal library comes from stocks of books that have been gathered over the years from various eras. The 2.000 referenced books entail ﬁ rst and modern editions where references and quotations in the manuscript come from. All text relinquished from copyright presentation, and over 100 years old, have been added in full. While every effort has been made to secure permission on all the outside additional material and sources, I may have failed in a few cases to trace the copyright holder; I apologize for any apparent negligence. I have tried to establish every fact inserted and to give due credit to each source. Many assumptions I had stumbled upon, devoid of facts, have not been inserted; Coriolanus would have noted that they would have infected the brain. I have been reading Sir Francis Bacon since childbirth, and almost every day reading him since. He is my Shakespeare; the Rarest of Princes. I thank you dear Reader for holding this Journal in your hands. —Lochithea 2005

“What Hallam left dark and Campbell foul should be cleansed as soon as may be from dust and stain. It is our due. One man only set aside, our interest in Bacon’s fame is greater than in that of any Englishman who ever lived. We cannot hide his light, we cannot cast him out. For good, it be good, for evil, if it

5 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms xx Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

must be evil, his brain has passed into our brain, his soul into our souls. We are part of him; he is part of us; inseparable as the salt and sea. The life he lived has become our law. If it be true that the Father of Modern Science was a rogue and cheat, it is also most true that we have taken a rogue and cheat to be our god.” —William Hepworth Dixon of the Inner Temple Introduction

I This is a brief biography of Sir Bacon compiled from the Works of Francis Bacon, vol i; published by Brown and Taggard, Boston, 1861 and written by James Spedding, M.A, (1808–1881) of Trinity College, Cambridge; his edition of Bacon, with the accompanying Life, occupied him for nearly thirty years.1 In collaboration with Spedding, on these long life accomplishments, were Robert Leslie Ellis, M.A, (1817–1859). Late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge; founder of the Cambridge Mathematical Journal in collaboration with D. F. Gregory in 1837. Last, Douglas Denon Heath, (1811–1897) Barrister-At-Law; Late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Classics and mathematics all the week, Sophocles at breakfast, a poet at dinner and Plato on Sundays.

II Dr. William Rawley, the learned chaplain of the celebrated Sir Francis Bacon, and editor of his works, was born at Norwich about the year 1588. He was of Benet College in

1 In 1853, Delia Bacon approached Spedding with her belief that Francis Bacon was instrumental in the authorship of Shakespeare’s works. Speddings’s initial reaction was speechless astonishment; but on later occasions he clearly expressed his disfavour of the Baconian hypothesis, and explained some of the common-sense reasons against it. Spedding was also one of the ﬁ rst people to perceive Shakespeare’s hand in the additions to Sir Thomas More.—See (www.sirbacon.org). In the Preface of Evenings with a Reviewer published in 1881, Sir Henry Taylor says: “I have been reading Spedding’s “Life of Bacon” with profound interest and admiration, not of the perfect style and penetrating judgment only, but also of the extraordinary labour bestowed upon the work by a lazy man; the labour of some twenty years, I believe, spent in rummaging among old records in all places where they were to be found, and collating different copies of manuscripts written in the handwriting of the sixteenth century, and noting the minutest variations of one from another-and inexpressibly tedious kind of drudgery, and, what was perhaps still worse, searching far and wide, waiting, watching, peering, prying, through long years for records which no industry could recover. I doubt whether there be any other example in literary history of so large an intellect as Spedding’s devoting itself with so much self-sacriﬁ ce to the illustration of one which was larger still; and doing so out of reverence, not so much for that largest intellect as for the truth concerning it.”

1 2 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Cambridge; took a bachelor of arts degree in 1604, a master’s in 1608, a bachelor of Divinity in 1615, and a doctor’s in 1621. About Ladyday 1609, he was chosen fellow of his college, took holy orders in 1611, and was instituted to the rectory of Landbeach near Cambridge in January 1616. Landbeach is a living in the gift of Benet College; nevertheless, he was presented to it “per hon. virum Franciscum Baconum Mil. Reg. Maj. Advocatum Generalem, ejusdem Rectoriæ, pro hac unica vice, ratione concessionis Magistri et Sociorum Coll. C.C. (uti afferebatur) patroni.” He held this living till his death, which happened on June 18, 1667; nor does it appear that he had any other preferment, which may seem somewhat marvellous, when it is considered, that he was not only domestic chaplain to Lord Verulam, who had the highest opinion of his abilities, as well as the most affectionate regard for his person, but chaplain also to the Kings Charles I., and II. On a fl at marble near the communion table, in the church of Landbeach, there is the following inscription over him: “Hic jacet Gulielmus Rawley, S.T. Doctor, vir Gratiis et Mufi s ex æquo charus, fereniss. Regibus Car. I. & II. a facris, D. Fran. Verulamio facellanus primus atque ultimus, cujus opera fumma cum fi de edita ei debent literæ. Uxorem habuit Barbaram, ad latus mariti positam, Jo. Wixted aldermanni nuper Cantabr. fi liam: ex ea fi lium suscepit unicum Gulielmum, in cujus cineribus falis haud parum latet. Ecclesiam hanc per annos quinquaginta prudens administra- vit. Tandem placide, ut vixit, in Domino obdormivit, A.D. 1667, Jun 18; ætat. 79.”2

III Dates and explanatory from the 2nd edition of the Resuscitatio: The Life of the Right Honourable Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulum, Viscount St Alban published in 1661 by William Rawley, D.D. His Lordship’s ﬁ rst and last Chaplain and of the late his Majesties Chaplain in Ordinary, 1670.

Dates Explanatory 1560: January 22 Birth of Franciscus Bacon 1573: April Entered Trinity College, Cambridge 1574: August till 1575: March Absent from Trinity College during the plague3 1575: December Left Trinity College4 1576: June 27 De Societate Introrum of Gray’s Inn 1576: September 25 Arrived in Calais, France with Sir Amias Paulet5 1578–9: February His father, Sir Nicholas Bacon, dies 1579: Student of Gray’s Inn

2 Anon: Biographical Dictionary, 1784 3 Whitgift’s account from the British Magazine, vol. xxxii. p. 365. vol. xxxiii. p. 444 4 ibid., 5 Burghley’s Diary, Murdin, pp. 778–779 Lochithea 3

1582: June 27 Utter Barrister of Gray’s Inn 1584: In Parliament for the fi rst time at the House of Commons 1586: Bencher of Gray’s Inn 1588: Reader of Gray’s Inn 1589: October Attained reversion of the Register’s Offi ce, in the Star Chamber6 1594: Queen’s Council Learned, Extraordinary 1597: Regularly employed as Queen’s Council Learned7 1600: Double Reader of Gray’s Inn 1603: Knighted 1604: Council Learned to King James I.8 1606: May 10 Marries Alice Barnham, daughter of Benedict Barnham, Esquire and Alderman of London9 1607: Appointed Solicitor 1608: July Succeeded offi ce 1613: Appointed Attorney 1616: Appointed Counsellor of State 1617: Became Lord Keeper of the Great Seal 1618: Appointed Lord Chancellor Became Baron of Verulam 1620–21: Became Viscount St Alban 1621: May 3 Condemned 1626: April 9 Died at Highgate

6 Worth £1.600 per annum 7 He was addressed and or spoken of as Mr. Bacon of the Learned Council 8 Worth £40 per annum 9 Upon a marriage settlement, Lord Bacon and his wife were to receive £220 per annum and upon his mother-in-law’s death, to receive £140 per annum. Though it was traditional and indecent for a widow to marry before a full year of their husband’s death, “because in that time the husband’s body may be presumed to be rotten,” Alice Barnham remarried on April 20, 1626, eleven days after Lord Bacon died. She married John Underwood, her Gentleman-Usher. 4 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

IV Brief List of Sir Bacon’s Certain Genuine Remains. Compiled By Thomas Tenison as registered in Baconiana November 30, 1679. Of the works of the Lord Bacon, many are extant, and some are lost, in whole, or in part.

Work Condition Abecedarium Naturæ Partial work remains Historia Gravis & Levis Wholly perished Ornamenta Rationalia Wholly lost or in some obscure place, committed to moths and cobwebs Temporis Partus Maximus Lost New Atlantis Left imperfect The Dialogue of a Holy War Left imperfect History of Henry VIII. Left imperfect Pholosophia Prima Left imperfect Great Instauration Part I: Advancement of Learning: Partitions of Sciences Part II: Novum Organum Scientiarum Part III: Phænomena of the Universe Part IV: Scala Intellectûs Part V: Prodromi sive Anticipationes Philosophiæ Secundæ Part VI: Philosophia Secunda sive Scientia Activa History of Henry VII. Felicities of Queen Elizabeth I. History of Great Britain Life of Luther Lost Imago Civilis Julii Cæsaris Imago Civilis Augusti Cæsaris De Sapientiâ Veterum Certain Considerations touching the better Paciﬁ cation and Ediﬁ cation of the Church of England Advertisement touching the controversies of the Church of England Essays Aphorisms Discourse of the Union of England and Scotland Articles and Considerations touching the Union aforesaid Considerations touching the Plantation in Ireland Lochithea 5

Considerations touching the Queen’s Service in Ireland Considerations touching a war with Spain Speeches upon the Motion of Subsidy Speeches in Parliament 39 Elizabeth 5 Jacobi Union of Laws 5 Jacobi 7 Jacobi 7 Jacobi 12 Jacobi Speeches in the House of Lords Wards and Tenurs Mr. Serjeant Richardson Speeches to King James Touching Purveyors Instrument of their Grievances Speeches in the Chancery At the making of his place in Chancery Sir. William Jones Speeches in the Star-Chamber Summer Circuits Lord-Protector Speeches in the Common-Pleas Justice Hutton Speeches in the Exchequer-Chamber Sir. John Denham Charges Charge at the Sessions Against Duels William Talbot Mr. J.S. Mr. L.S.W. and H.J. Owen Lord Sanquere Lord Elesmere Civil Policy in Special Observations upon a Libel Dr. Roderigo Lopez Apologie Mr. Sutton Laws of England 6 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Digest of the Laws of England Elements of the Common Laws of England Infurious Shift of Gain10 Confessions of Faith Questions about a Holy War Prayers David’s Psalms

Dr. William Rawley concludes: “I have left nothing to a future hand, which I found to be of moment, or communicable to the public, save only some few Latin works. I have published all I thought ﬁ t, or a well advised man would have thought ﬁ t to be published by me.” In the Baconiana published in 1679, Thomas Tenison notes that Rawley “thought his Lord’s letters concerning his fall, might be injurious to his honour, and cause the old wounds of it to bleed anew; whereas if the remembrance of them had not been fresh in the minds of many, and in the books of some, the collection of the Cabala, had revived part of it in a corrupt copy; and the matter of those letters is of such a nature that it rather cleareth his Lordship’s fame, than throws more dirt upon it. Some few imperfect papers, about his Lordship’s private affairs, or of very little moment in philosophy, are still kept where they ought to be, in private hands.”

V In the Old Testament, Genesis is related to giving an account of the Creation, Fall, and antediluvian history of mankind, including the ﬁ rst Covenant. With regard to the history of Creation, it relates to six days’ work; the Great Instauration also divides its sections into six parts:

Six days work11 Day One: A change from darkness to light

10 “I think no man may more truly say with the Psalm, multum incola fuit anima mea, than my self. For I do confess, since I was of any understanding, my mind that, in effect, been absent from that I have done: and, in absence are many errors, which I do willingly acknowledge, and amongst the rest this great one that led the rest; that knowing my self, by inward calling, to be fi tter to hold a book than to play a part, I have led my life in civil causes, for which I was not very fi t by nature, and more unfi t by the preoccupation of my mind.”—Francis Bacon: Baconiana, 1679 11 King James I’s translation of the Bible: Oxford University Press, 1896: “The six days’ work relates entirely to the Divine action on the earth’s surface, and the objects visible from it, at the beginning of the present epoch of humanity.” Lochithea 7

Day Two: Separation of waters above and below by the intervention of a ﬁ rmament or expanse Day Three: A further division of the waters below into seas and earth, followed by growth of vegetable life Day Four: Appearance of sun moon and stars, visible from the earth’s surface Day Five: Production of living creatures out of the water and in the air Day Six: Production of animals, including man, from the material earth

Distribution of the Great Instauration in six parts12 Part One: Survey and Extension of the Sciences; or, the Advancement of Learning (The Divisions of the Sciences)13 Part Two: Novum Organum; or Precepts for the Interpretation of Nature Part Three: Phenomena of the Universe; or a Natural and Experimental History, on which to found Philosophy Part Four: Ladder of the Understanding (of the intellect)14 Part Five: Precursors, or Anticipators, of the Second Philosophy (The Forerunners; or Anticipations of the New Philosophy)15 Part Six: Second Philosophy (The New Philosophy);16 or, Active Science

Day One of the Creation: A change from darkness to light.

Part One of the Great Instauration: Survey and Extension of the Sciences; or, the Advancement of Learning: gives the substance, or general description of the knowledge which mankind at present possess: choosing to swell a little upon things already received, that we may the easier perfect the old, and lead on to new; being equally inclined to culti- vate the discoveries of antiquity, as to strike out fresh paths of science.

Day Two of the Creation: Separation of waters above and below by the intervention of a ﬁ rmament or expanse.

12 Francis Bacon: Great Instauration, 1620 13 Spedding: Works, vol. viii 14 ibid., 15 ibid., 16 ibid., 8 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Part Two of the Great Instauration: Novum Organum; or Precepts for the Interpretation of Nature: embraces the doctrine of a more perfect use of reason, and the true helps of the intellectual faculties, so as to raise and enlarge the powers of the mind; and, as far as the condition of humanity allows, to ﬁ t it to conquer the difﬁ culties and obscurities of nature.

Day Three of the Creation: A further division of the waters below into seas and earth, followed by growth of vegetable life.

Part Three of the Great Instauration: Phenomena of the Universe; or, Natural and Experimental History, on which to found Philosophy: not only to pave and show the way, but also to tread in it ourselves, we shall next exhibit the phenomena of the universe; that is, such experience of all kinds, and such a natural history, as may afford a foundation to philosophy.

Day Four of the Creation: Appearance of sun moon and stars, visible from the earth’s surface.

Part Four of the Great Instauration: Ladder of the Understanding: we shall be prepared to enter upon philosophy itself; to propose examples of inquiry and investigation, according to our own method, in certain subjects of the noblest kind, but greatly differing from each other, that a specimen may be had of every sort, and represent, as it were, to the eye, the whole progress of the mind, and the continued structure and order of invention, in the most chosen subjects, after the same manner as globes and machines facilitate the more abstruse and subtile demonstrations in mathematics.

Day Five of the Creation: Production of living creatures out of the water and in the air.

Part Five of the Great Instauration: Precursors, or Anticipators, of the Second Philosophy: this part, therefore, will consist of such things as we have invented, experienced, or added by the same common use of the understanding that others employ.

Day Six of the Creation: Production of animals, including man, from the material earth.

Part Six of the Great Instauration: Second Philosophy; or, Active Science: to lay down that philosophy which shall ﬂ ow from the just, pure, and strict inquiry hitherto proposed.

VI May Thou, therefore, O Father, who gavest the light of vision as the ﬁ rst fruit of creation, and who has spread over the fall of man the light of Thy understanding as the accom- Lochithea 9 plishment of Thy works, guard and direct this work, which, issuing from Thy goodness, seeks in return Thy glory! When Thou hadst surveyed the works, which Thy hands had wrought, all seemed good in Thy sight, and Thou restedst.

Salomon’s House17 The erection and institution of an order or society, which we call Salomon’s House, the noblest foundation, as we think, that ever was upon the earth, and the lanthorn of this Kingdom. It is dedicated to the study of the works and creatures of God. Some thing it beareth the founder’s name a little corrupted, as if it should be Salomona’s House; but the records write it as it is spoken. I ﬁ nd in ancient records this order or society is sometimes called Salomon’s House, and sometimes the College of the Six Days. God had created the world, and all that therein is, within six days.

Lord Verulam

17 Francis Bacon: New Atlantis, 1623

Genesis1 1560 (61) his birth to 1584 of the age twenty-three

Short Verse2 By Francis Bacon Thou carriest man away as with a tide; Then down swim all his thoughts that mounted high; Much like a mocking dream, that will not bide, But ﬂ ies before the sight of waking eye; Or as the grass, that cannot term obtain To see the Summer come about again.

Good Morrow sweet Reader, I beseech you follow, for I can neither please nor delight, not even tickle my readers: the best story in the world is spoiled by my handling, and becomes ﬂ at; I cannot speak but in rough earnest, and am totally unprovided of that facility which I observe in many of my acquaintance, of entertaining the ﬁ rst comers and keeping a whole company in breath, or taking up the ear of a Prince with all sorts of discourse without weaying them selves: they never want matter by reason of the faculty and grace they have

1 Genesis: a Greek word signifying origin or beginning 2 Spedding: Works, vol. xiv: Preface to The Translation of Certain Psalms: “I should myself infer from this sample that Bacon had all the natural faculties which a poet wants: a fi ne ear for metre, a fi ne feeling for imaginative effect in words, and a vein of poetic passion. The thought in the second line could not well be fi tted with imagery words and rhythm more apt and imaginative; and there is a tenderness of expression in the concluding couplet which comes manifestly out of a heart in sensitive sympathy with nature, and fully capable of the poet’s faith that every fl ower enjoys the air it breathes. The truth is that Bacon was not without the “fi ne phrensy” of the poet; but the world into which it transported him was one which, while it promised visions more glorious than any poet could imagine, promised them upon the express condition that fi ction should be utterly prohibited and excluded. Had it taken the ordinary direction, I have little doubt that it would have carried him to a place among the great poets; but it was the study of his life to refrain his imagination and keep it within the modesty of truth; aspiring no higher than to be a faithful interpreter of nature, waiting for the day when the “Kingdom of Man” should come.”

11 12 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals in taking hold of the fi rst thing that starts up, and accommodating it to the humour and capacity of those with whom they have to do. I study not to make my pages swell with empty trifl es; you and I are talking in private.3 And though nobody should read me, have I lost my time in enterntaining my self so many idle hours, in so pleasing and useful thoughts? I doubt not now in moulding this fi gure upon my self, I have been so often contrained to temper and compose my self in a right posture, that the copy is truly taken, and has in some sort formed itself; painting my self for others, I represent my self in a better colouring than my own natural complexion. I have no more made my book, than my book has made me: ’tis a book consubstantial with the author, of a peculiar design, a member of my life, and whose business is not designed for others, as that of all other books is. In giving my self so continual and so exact an account of my self, have I lost my time? For they who sometimes cursorily survey them selves only, do not so strictly examine them selves, nor penetrate so deep, as he who makes it his business, his study, and his employment, who intends a lasting record, with all his fi delity, and with all his force. The most delicious pleausure digested within, avoid leaving any trace of them selves, and avoid the sight not only of the people, but of any other person. How often has this work diverted me from troublesome thoughts Reader, and all that are frivolous should be reputed so.4 Nay, quote him down, thy saith? Thy tongue speaks. By troth what a mad-cap of words feed and be fat to maintain the word with thunderous swords to the books of heaven. Be calm good wind, blow not a word away to speak little of the fi ve senses: that sight is held to be most precious, and the best, and that by reason of his object, it sees the whole body at once. By it we learn, and discern all things, a sense most excellent for use.5 If perchance, when we discourse of the nature of gods, and the world’s original, we cannot do it as we desire, it will be no great wonder. For it is just you should remember that both I who speak, and you who are to judge, are men; so that if probable things are delivered, you should require and expect no more.6 Such chaps of steel holds mine building upon man’s concern, and it will creak at the joints; oil that, and ’twill crack wrinkles; smooth that, ’twill crumble with the touch of a fi nger. And thus, leaning on my elbow, this misty evening of the sweet seeds of May, I think good to deliver a stir for the sweet sleep of the swan betwixt the murky waters of Old Father Thames and old-faced banks: ’tis London, the head and metropolis of England: called by Tacitus, Londinium; by Ptolemy, Logidinium; by Ammianus Marcellinus, Lundinium; by foreigners Londra and Londres; it is the seat of the British Empire, and the Chamber of the

3 Persius: Sat., v. 19 4 Extract from Michel Eyquem de Montaigne’s Essays, 1580 5 Extract from Robert Burton’s The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1653 6 Cicero, from Timæus Lochithea 13

English Kings7 and through the arches of Adelphi and into York House stands the temple of my father, Sir Nicholas Bacon.8,9 The Grand Hall of York House consisteth of clear glass; decorated walls on National taste; phantasim shadows over Turkey tapestry; of whispers they echo on peculiar wall paintings, ’gainst candlelight from beyond an open oak wooden door. I can do little harm in entering the master chambers: thus excite your most considerable parts of grandeur, betwixt my heart that doth not tell either yes or no to follow this branching candlestick light, that revealeth Lady Anne Bacon, two and thirty years. Mother’s features protrude white skin in beautiful manner; a trifl e disconcerted, so peculiar to her self. She stands closest to a kingly four-poster with cherubim angels10 nearest the glows of a fi re, burning in a fi replace of stone: fi redogs hold up the crackling logs being obstinate companions to father’s footsteps that approacheth. His lethargic voice leaks with great difference betwixt the words that you and I say by candlelight: “My love to you is scattered wider than the sky and earth. I am spell-stopped, Madam.” Lovers speak all things by their eyes; nay, father hath words to speak; he hath hands to journey down a woman’s body like an infant, like a mariner tossed by raging seas upon the shore, naked on the earth, destitute at his very touch, of all supports of wit. And how great changes each little motion bringeth to mother’s eyebrows, to lips, to shoulders; there is not a motion that doth not speak, and in an intelligible language without discipline, the

7 Paul Hentzner & Sir Robert Naunton: Travels in England and Fragmenta Regalia, 1892 8 Sir. Nicolas Bacon was admitted to the bar in 1533, made attorney of the Court of Wards and Liveries in 1546. Despite his Protestant sympathies, he retained his offi ce during the reign of the Roman Catholic Queen Mary I (1553–58). Upon the accession of Elizabeth, Sir. Nicolas Bacon was made Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, in which capacity in January 1559 he began to exercise the full judicial authority of Lord Chancellor. In this position he worked with Elizabeth’s chief minister, Sir William Cecil (later Lord Burghley), to maintain the relatively moderate Protestantism of the Elizabethan church. At the same time, Sir. Nicholas Bacon advocated policies designed to undermine the power of Catholics in Europe. He was tempo- rarily dismissed from Court after a misunderstanding with the Queen in 1564, but he soon regained his former infl uence. Sir. Nicholas Bacon’s distrust of the Catholic Mary Stuart, who was imprisoned in England, led him in 1570 to oppose effectively a plan to reinstate her on the Scottish throne—Encyclopædia Britannica 9 Marguerite de Valois: Memoirs, 1899: “Thirty years of desolate civil strife are before us, and we must set it all down briefl y and dryly. The prelude to the troubles, played by the Huguenots, who in 1560, guided by La Renaudie, a Perigord gentleman, formed a plot to carry off the young King; for Francois II., had already treated them with considerable severity, and had dismissed from his Councils both the Princes of the blood royal and the Constable de Montmorency. The plot failed miserably and La Renaudie lost his life; it only secured more fi rmly the authority of the Guises. As a counterpoise to their infl uence, the Queen-Mother now conferred the vacant Chancellorship on one of the wisest men France has ever seen, her Lord Bacon, Michel de L’Hopital.” 10 Marshall: News Chronicle Everything Within, 1957: “Cherub: one of an order of angels, generally represented as winged spirits, sometimes with the fi gures of animal, sometimes those of birds. The prevalent conception of a cherub as a winged head of a child seems to be without foundation.” 14 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals alphabets upon the fi ngers, grammars in gesture, boldness and nobility, for father’s hands durst grasp at her gown that falleth to the fl oor with a whisper.11 I have ever thought there are gods above, but I do not conceive that they care what men do; and should an unborn hide his existence, then a man may very well reveal it to the world. But these mine eyes saw with a subtle fl ame through my veins; with ears tingled in deafness. I, Francis Bacon, who hath swayed over the navel of the earth, doubt now I shall live twice a day and beareth double witness of these two souls adhereth to their bodies, no more than eyes once torn from their sockets can ever after see anything; for, conceived by man, a child is born: Mr. Franciscus Bacon comes forth upon the same sheets where Lady Anne Bacon doth spread her thighs for Sir Nicholas Bacon’s heat that dwelleth into the aging years of one and fi fty years. See him now! See father announce to York House, nay, to all London, the birth of his second son by Lady Anne Bacon. He roars in the company of his steps that echoeth ’gainst fi rm wooden fl oorboards. His superior frame temps the shadows to fade, to bring forth bright sparks of light upon the newborn cradled in his arms. He knoweth how he shall need to win over the Fates’ noble commission. The gentle early days of newborns tug his thoughts: how many times hath he heard the death of a toddler? How many lengths could the Fates snap their golden-spindled thread? What, if they snipped it short, would become of his Franciscus? Should he widen his superstitions? Should he send his good men to summon the church bells and frighten away evil spirits? This very night, would the fairy steal his newborn and leave in its place a changeling? He mourns before death, for the living are embraced by the dead. “May the Lord give you strength to endure these fi rstly hours on this earth, my son; my honour, my structure, my second born.” Sit you down under hanging stars, father; twinkle in their spheres. Beseech yee Sir, be this aged night with saucy fears. Yonder, ten children in one grave! A dreadful sight. Could beauty, youth, or innocence their frail possessors, save from Death, sweet babe, a sure defence. Thoud’st had, and not been hurried hence into the silent grave. But mortal creatures, born to die, to nature must submit: when that commands, all must comply, no parts can shield from destiny, we then the stage must quit.12 My baptism at St Martin-in-the-Fields deserveth to be a little stood upon: Nicholas Bacon, labouring with profound thoughts, scribbles in the register: Baptizatus fuit Mr. Franciscus Bacon. Filius Dm Nicho: Bacon Magni Anglie Sigilli Custodis. His nod is of satisfaction and purpose; he taketh to Anthony, his three-year-old fi rst-born son with Lady Anne Bacon.

11 Derived from Lucretius, v. 223 and Michel Eyquem de Montaigne’s Essays, 1580. The British Museum holds a copy of Montaigne’s Essays with the name of Shakspeare jotted on it: “Sir Frederick Madden, one of the greatest authorities in autographs, has recognised Shakspeare’s autograph as genuine” on this copy—See Jacob Feis’ Shakspere And Montaigne 12 Aubrey’s Brief Lives Lochithea 15

The Epistle Dedicatorie To M. Anthony Bacon his dear Brother. Loving and Beloved Brother. I do now like some that have an Orchard ill neighboured, that gather their fruit before it is ripe, to prevent stealing. These fragments of my conceits were going to print; to labour the stay of them had been troublesome, and subject to interpretation; to let them pass had been to adventure the wrong they might receive by untrue copies, or by some garnishment, which it might please any that should set them forth to bestow upon them. Therefore I held it best discretion to publish them my self as they passed long ago from my pen, without any further disgrace, then the weakness of the Author. And as I did ever hold, there might be as great a vanity in retiring and withdrawing men’s conceits (expect they be of some nature) from the world, as in obtruding them: so in these particulars I have played my self the inquisitor, and fi nd nothing to my understanding in them contrary or infectious to the state of religion, or manners, but rather (as I suppose) medicinable. Only I disliked now to put them out because they will be like the late new half-pence, which though the silver were good, yet the pieces were small. But since they would not stay with their Master, but would needs travel abroad, I have preferred them to you that are next myself, dedicating them, such as they are, to our love, in the depth whereof (I assure you) I sometimes wish your infi rmities translated upon my self, that her Majesty might have the service of so active and able a mind, and I might be with excuse confi ned to these contemplations & studies for which I am fi ttest, so commend I you to the preservation of the Divine Majesty. From my Chamber at Gray’s Inn, this 30 of January. 1597. Your entire loving brother. Fra. Bacon.

It may well appear, out of respect to some privy obligation, I encounter those that attend my baptism, should I forget their signature upon me:

William Cecil: my uncle, whom later shall elevate to Lord Burghley on February 25, 1571. Queen Elizabeth I., shall honour him; the only of her Ministers who shall receive a peerage.13 Uncle Burghley, born in the country of Lincoln on September 13, 1520, in like manner is at the age of one and forty years at my baptism. He hath married my mother’s sister, Mildred, and to whose sperm he shall offer and bring forth my cousin, Robert Cecil in two years: a cousin, to wit, who I believe shall thoroughly busy himself nibbling about my fame. Uncle Burghley’s death in 1598 shall be full of years and honours, with Queen Elizabeth I’s genuine grief on receiving the news of his death.14

13 See Felix Pryor’s Elizabeth I: Her Life in Letters, 2003 14 W.G.C. Gundry: William Cecil, Lord Burghley—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) 16 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Edward Coke: only nine of age at my baptism. Born in 1552 at Norfolk, by Robert and Winifred Coke; heir to a barrister family, he shall be twice married with domestic life full of quarrels as extraordinary as his fan: its handle at least half a yard long, that shalt accompany his rides through the circuit. So much there is to become Coke’s junior to Counsel in a very turbulent trial that will arrive of the year 1601. And let it be noted fumos vendere, [to sell smoke,]15 I know no more of what to say about Edward Coke, the Huddler, than the man in the moon.16

Dr. John Dee:17 in the neat years of four and thirty, and of whom antitheta I may ﬁ ll my life works with his ideas and philosophies. He remaineth a close friend through my years at Trinity College, Cambridge, of where he studieth in 1547. At my golden age of three and twenty years, in 1584, he shall arrive with a manuscript that he obtained in Prague on his long journey there; a manuscript from the pen of Roger Bacon, the English monk. How my ears still shake from father’s taunts on Friar Bacon’s wise words: A man is crazy who writes a secret in any other way than on which will conceal it from the vulgar. May I say Reader, if Capsidee with his little ﬁ nger do but hold me up by the chin, I shalt swim on cyphers.

Master John White-gift:18 at one and thirty years and shall subsequently become the Archbishop of Canterbury. He looks now even more than when I studieth under him at Trinity College, as though he keeps no holidays. Should I have conceived a dislike of the academic curriculum under his wing, should be answerable to my youth and eagerness to explore nature; I love to doubt, as well as to know:19 a point well driven to Cousin Fulke Greville, whom in 1593 asketh advice in regards of his studies.

I may say, education, of these accidental causes of melancholy, may justly challenge the next place, for if a man escape a bad nurse, he may be undone by evil bringing up. Beza complains in like case of a rigorous schoolmaster in Paris, that made him by his continual thunder and threats once in a mind to drown himself, had he not met by the way with an uncle of his that vindicated him from that misery for the time, by taking him to his house. Many masters are hard-hearted, and bitter to their servants, and by that means do so deject, with terrible speeches and hard usage to crucify them, that they become desperate, and can never be recalled. Plutarch gives a most especial charge to all parents, and many

15 Erasmus 16 Extract from Isaac Disraeli’s Curiosities of Literature, vol. ii: “Among those thirty books which he had written with his own hand, most pleasing to himself was a manual which he called Vade Mecum, from whence, at one view, he took a prospect of his life past.” 17 John Dee (1527–1608) an English mathematician, natural philosopher, and student of the occult. “It is almost certain that William Shakespeare modelled the character of Prospero in The Tempest (1611) on the career of John Dee, the Elizabethan magus.”—See Encyclopædia Britannica for a detailed account. 18 Also written Whitgift (1530–1604) who founded a hospital and a school at Croydon, where he is buried. 19 Dante: Inferno, xi. 93 Lochithea 17 good cautions about bringing up of children, that they be not committed to indiscreet, passionate, bedlam tutors, light, giddy-headed, or covetous persons, and spare for no cost, that they may be well nurtured and taught, it being a matter of so great consequence. For such parents as do otherwise, Plutarch esteems of them that are more careful of their shoes than of their feet, that rate their wealth above their children. And he, saith Cardan, that leaves his son to a covetous schoolmaster to be informed, or to a close Abbey to fast and learn wisdom together, doth no other, than that he be a learned fool, or a sickly wise man.20 Let these words be rightly understood and to close education with writ from Holinshed’s Chronicles, 1577: “In my time there are three noble universities in England; to wit, one at Oxford, the second at Cambridge, and the third in London; of which the fi rst two are the most famous, I mean Cambridge and Oxford, for that in them the use of the tongues, philosophy, and the liberal sciences, besides the profound studies of the civil law, physic, and theology, are daily taught and had: whereas in the latter the laws of the realm are only read and learned by such as give their minds unto the knowledge of the same. In the fi rst there are not only divers goodly houses builded four square for the most part of hard freestone or brick, with great numbers of lodgings and chambers in the same for students, after a sumptuous sort, through the exceeding liberality of Kings, Queens, Bishops, Noblemen and Ladies of the land; but also large livings and great revenues bestowed upon them (the like whereof is not to be seen in any other region, as Peter Martyr did oft affi rm) to the maintenance only of such convenient numbers of poor men’s sons as the several stipends bestowed upon the said houses are able to support. Of these two, that of Oxford (which lieth west and by north from London) standeth most pleasantly, being environed in manner round about with woods on the hills aloft, and goodly rivers in the bottoms and valleys beneath, whose courses would breed no small commodity to that city and country about if such impediments were removed as greatly annoy the same and hinder the carriage which might be made thither also from London. That of Cambridge is distant from London about forty and six miles north and by east, and standeth very well, saving that it is somewhat near unto the fens, whereby the whole- someness of the air is not a little corrupted. It is excellently well served with all kinds of provisions, but especially of fresh water fi sh and wild fowl, by reason of the river that passeth thereby; and thereto the Isle of Ely, which is so near at hand. Only wood is the chief want to such as study there, wherefore this kind of provision is brought them either from Essex and other places thereabouts, as is also their coal, or otherwise the necessity thereof is supplied with gall (a bastard kind of mirtus as I take it) and seacoal, whereof they have great plenty led thither by the Grant. Moreover it hath not such store of meadow ground as may suffi ce for the ordinary expenses of the town and university, wherefore the inhabitants are enforced in like sort to provide their hay from other villages about, which minister the same unto them in very great abundance.

20 Extract from Robert Burton’s (1577–1640) The Anatomy of Melancholy printed in 1653. Burton was an English scholar, writer, and Anglican clergyman. The Anatomy, widely read in the 17th century, lapsed for a time into obscurity, but in the 18th century it was admired by Samuel Johnson; Laurence Sterne’s borrowings from it are notorious. In the 19th century the devotion of Charles Lamb helped to bring the Anatomy into favour with the Romantics. 18 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

In each of these universities also is likewise a church dedicated to the Virgin Mary, wherein once in the year, to wit, in July, the scholars are holden, and in which such as have been called to any degree in the year precedent do there receive the accomplishment of the same, in solemn and sumptuous manner. In Oxford this solemnity is called an Act, but in Cambridge they use the French word Commencement; and such resort is made yearly unto the same from all parts of the land by the friends of those who do proceed that all the town is hardly able to receive and lodge those guests. When and by whom the churches aforesaid were built I have elsewhere made relation. That of Oxford also was repaired in the time of Edward the Fourth and Henry the Seventh, when Doctor Fitz James, a great helper in that work, was warden of Merton College; but ere long, after it was fi nished, one tempest in a night so defaced the same that it left few pinnacles standing about the church and steeple, which since that time have never been repaired. There were sometime four and twenty parish churches in the town and suburbs; but now there are scarcely sixteen. There have been also 1200 burgesses, of which 400 dwelt in the suburbs; and so many students were there in the time of Henry the Third that he allowed them twenty miles compass about the town for their provision of victuals. The manner to live in these universities is not as in some other of foreign countries we see daily to happen, where the students are enforced for want of such houses to dwell in common inns, and taverns, without all order or discipline. But in these our colleges we live in such exact order, and under so precise rules of government, as that the famous learned man Erasmus of Rotterdam, being here among us fi fty years passed, did not let to compare the trades in living of students in these two places, even with the very rules and orders of the ancient monks, affi rming moreover, in fl at words, our orders to be such as not only came near unto, but rather far exceeded, all the monastical institutions that ever were devised. In most of our colleges there are also great numbers of students, of which many are found by the revenues of the houses and other by the purveyances and help of their rich friends, whereby in some one college you shall have two hundred scholars, in others an hundred and fi fty, in diverts a hundred and forty, and in the rest less numbers, as the capacity of the said houses is able to receive: so that at this present, of one sort and other, there are about three thousand students nourished in them both (as by a late survey it manifestly appeared). They were erected by their founders at the fi rst only for poor men’s sons, whose parents were not able to bring them up unto learning; but now they have the least benefi t of them, by reason the rich do so encroach upon them. And so far has this inconvenience spread itself that it is in my time a hard matter for a poor man’s child to come by a fellowship (though he be never so good a scholar and worthy of that room). Such packing also is used at elections that not he which best deserveth, but he that has most friends, though he be the worst scholar, is always surest to speed, which will turn in the end to the overthrow of learning. That some gentlemen also whose friends have been in times past benefactors to certain of those houses do intrude into the disposition of their estates without all respect of order or statutes devised by the founders, only thereby to place whom they think good (and not without some hope of gain), the case is too too evident: and their attempt would soon take place if their superiors did not provide to bridle their endeavours. In some grammar schools likewise which send scholars to these universities, it Lochithea 19 is lamentable to see what bribery is used; for, ere the scholar can be preferred, such bribage is made that poor men’s children are commonly shut out, and the richer sort received (who in time past thought it dishonour to live as it were upon alms), and yet, being placed, most of them study little other than histories, tables, dice, and trifl es, as men that make not the living by their study the end of their purposes, which is a lamentable hearing. Beside this, being for the most part either gentlemen or rich men’s sons, they often bring the universities into much slander. For, standing upon their reputation and liberty, they ruffl e and roist it out, exceeding in apparel, and banting riotous company which draweth them from their books unto another trade, and for excuse, when they are charged with breach of all good order, think it suffi cient to say that they be gentlemen, which grieveth many not a little. But to proceed with the rest. Every one of these colleges have in like manner their professors or readers of the tongues and several sciences, as they call them, which daily trade up the youth there abiding privately in their halls, to the end they may be able afterward (when their turn cometh about, which is after twelve terms) to shew themselves abroad, by going from thence into the common schools and public disputations (as it were in aream) there to try their skill, and declare how they have profi ted since their coming thither.” For the rest, Cousin Fulke neither sought for, nor obtained any great place or preferment in Court during all his time of attendance: neither did he need it, for he came thither backed with a plentiful fortune, which, as him self was wont to say, was then better held together by a single life, wherein he lived and died a constant Courtier of the ladies:21

Cousin Fulke. You tell me you are going to Cambridge, and that the ends of your going are, to get a scholar to your liking to live with you, and some two or three others to remain in the university, and gather for you; and you require my opinion, what instruction you shall give these gatherers. He that shall out of his own reading gather for the used of another, must (as I think) do it by epitome, or abridgment, or under heads and common places. Epitomes also may be of two sorts: of any one art, or part of knowledge out of many books; or of one book by itself. Of the ﬁ rst kind we have many patterns: as for Civil Law, Justinian; Littleton for our own; Ramus, logic; Valerius, physics; Lipsius, politics, and Machiavel’s Art of War. Some in every kind, and divers in some one. In matter of history I will not cite Carion, Functius, Melanchthon, nor the new French Bibliotheque Historien; because they are rather calendars to direct a man to histories than abridgments of history. But the read-

21 (a) Paul Hentzner & Sir Robert Naunton: Travels in England and Fragmenta Regalia, 1892 (b) Spedding: Life, ii, p. 21–26, 1862; Tenner MSS, vol. 76, fo. 82, “… is a letter of advice addressed to Fulke Greville (date unfortunately not known) all about books and studies: such a letter as Bacon would undoubtedly at this time have wished Essex to write and the Queen to know he had written. For the rest, I must leave it to speak for itself; for all I know is that I found it in the Bodleian Library, among the papers of Archbishop Sancroft: a manuscript in the hand of some person whom he seems to have employed; lying among copies (some in the same hand and some in the Archbishop’s own) of papers by or relating to the Earl of Essex, annexed to an account of his trial; but with nothing to indicate whence it came.” The letter Spedding offers is seven pages in length. 20 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals ing of the best of these and these to be the best we have will no more make a man a good civilian, common lawyer, logician, naturalist, politician, nor soldier, than the seeing of the names of London, Bristol, York, Lincoln, and some few other places of note in a Mercator’s general map will make a stranger understand the cosmography of England. Let him that never read Livy tell me what he is the wiser for Florus’s epitome; or he that never studied the mathematics, what he would learn of a title of Euclid’s deﬁ nitions and divisions, of (if you will) axioms also, without seeing the demonstrations which must lead himself to conceive them. I hold collections under heads and common places of far more proﬁ t and use; because they have in them a kind of observation, without the which neither long life breeds experience, nor great reading great knowledge. Cousin Fra. Bacon.

It may well be that cousin Fulke stood upon The Book of the Courtier writ by Sir Thomas Hoby in 1561 with Raleigh’s notes thus:

A Brief Rehearsal Of The Chief Conditions And Qualities In A Courtier • To be well borne and of a good stocke. • To be of a meane stature, rather with the least then to high, and well made to his proportion. • To be portly and amiable in countenance unto whoso beehouldeth him. • Not to be womanish in his sayinges or doinges. • Not to praise himself unshamefully and out of reason. • Not to crake and boast of his actes and good qualities. • To shon Affectation or curiosity above all thing in all things. • To do his feates with a slight, as though they were rather naturally in him, then learned with studye: and use a reckelesness to cover art, without minding greatly what he hath in hand, to a mans seeminge. • Not to carie about tales and triﬂ inge news. • Not to be overseene in speaking wordes otherwhile that may offende where he meant it not. • Not to be stubborne, wilful nor full of contention: nor to contrary and overthwart men after a spiteful sort. • Not to be a babbler, brauler, or chatter, nor lavish of his tunge. • Not to be given to vanitie and lightnesse, not to have a fantasticall head. • No lyer. • No fonde ﬂ atterer. • To be well spoken and faire languaged. • To be wise and well seene in discourses upon states. Lochithea 21

• To have a judgement to frame himself to the maners of the Countrey where ever he commeth. • To be able to alleage good, and probable reasons upon everie matter. • To be seen in tunges, and specially in Italian, French, and Spanish. • To direct all thinges to a goode ende. • To procure where ever he goeth that men may ﬁ rst conceive a good opinion of him before he commeth there. • To felowship him self for the most part with men of the best sort and of most estimation, and with his equalles, so he be also beloved of his inferiours. • To play for his pastime at Dice and Cardes, not wholye for monies sake, nor fume and chafe in his losse. • To be meanly seene in the play at Chestes, and not overcounninge. • To be pleasantlie disposed in commune matters and in good companie. • To speake and write the language that is most in use amonge the commune people, without inventing new woordes, inckhorn tearmes or straunge phrases, and such as be growen out of use by long time. • To be handesome and clenly in his apparaile. • To make his garmentes after the facion of the most, and those to be black, or of some darkish and sad colour, not garish. • To gete him an especiall and hartye friend to companye withall. • Not to be ill tunged, especiallie against his betters. • Not to use any fonde saucinesse or presumption. • To be no envious or malitious person. • To be an honest, a faire condicioned man, and of an upright conscience. • To have the vertues of the minde, as justice, manlinesse, wisdome, temperance, staide- nesse, noble courage, sober-moode, etc. • To be more then indifferentlye well seene in learninge, in the Latin and Greeke tunges. • Not to be rash, nor perswade hymselfe to knowe the thing that he knoweth not. • To confesse his ignorance, whan he seeth time and place therto, in suche qualities as he knoweth him selfe to have no maner skill in. • To be brought to show his feates and qualities at the desire and request of others, and not rashlye presse to it of himself. • To speake alwaies of matters likely, least he be counted a lyer in reporting of wonders and straunge miracles. • To have the feate of drawing and peincting. • To daunce well without over nimble footinges or to busie trickes. 22 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

• To singe well upon the booke. • To play upon the Lute, and singe to it with the ditty. • To play upon the Vyole, and all other instrumentes with freates. • To delite and refresh the hearers mindes in being pleasant, feat conceited, and a meerie talker, applyed to time and place. • Not to use sluttish and Ruffi anlike pranckes with anye man. • Not to beecome a jester of scoffer to put anye man out of countenance. • To consider whom he doth taunt and where: for he ought not to mocke poore seelie soules, nor men of authoritie, nor commune ribaldes and persons given to mischeef, which deserve punishment. • To be skilfull in all kynd of marciall feates both on horsbacke and a foote, and well practised in them: whiche is his cheef profession, though his understandinge be the lesse in all other thinges. • To play well at fense upon all kinde of weapons. • To be nimble and quicke at the play at tenise. • To hunt and hauke. • To ride and manege well his horse. • To be a good horsman for every saddle. • To swimme well. • To leape wel. • To renn well. • To vaute well. • To wrastle well. • To cast the stone well. • To cast the barr well. • To renn well at tilt, and at ring. • To tourney. • To fi ght at Barriers. • To kepe a passage or streict. • To play at Jogo di Canne. • To renn at Bull. • To fl ing a Speare or Dart. • Not to renn, wrastle, leape, nor cast the stone or barr with men of the Countrey, except he be sure to gete the victorie. • To sett out himself in feates of chivalrie in open showes well provided of horse and har- ness, well trapped, and armed, so that he may showe himselfe nymeble on horsbacke. Lochithea 23

• Never to be of the last that appeere in the listes at justes, or in any open showes. • To have in triumphes comelie armour, bases, scarfes, trappinges, liveries, and such other thinges of sightlie and meerie coulours, and rich to beehoulde, wyth wittie poesies and pleasant divises, to allure unto him cheffl ie the eyes of the people. • To disguise himself in maskerie eyther on horsbacke or a foote, and to take the shape upon hym that shall be contrarie to the feate that he mindeth to worke. • To undertake his bould feates and couragious enterprises in warr, out of companye and in the sight of the most noble personages in the campe, and (if it be possible) beefore his Princis eyes. • Not to hasarde himself in forraginge and spoiling or in enterprises of great daunger and small estimation, though he be sure to gaine by it. • Not to waite upon or serve a wycked and naughtye person. • Not to seeke to come up by any naughtie or subtill practise. • Not to commit any mischevous or wicked fact at the will and commaundesment of his Lord or Prince. • Not to folowe his own fansie, or alter the expresse wordes in any point of his commission from hys Prince or Lorde, onlesse he be assured that the profi t will be more, in case it have good successe, then the damage, if it succeade well. • To use evermore toward his Prince or L. the respect that beecommeth the servaunt toward his maister. • To endevour himself to love, please and obey his Prince in honestye. • Not to covett to presse into the Chambre or other secrete part where his Prince is withdrawen at any time. • Never to be sad, melancho[l]ie or solemn beefore hys Prince. • Sildome or never to sue to hys Lorde for anye thing for himself. • His suite to be honest and reasonable whan he suyth for others. • To reason of pleasaunt and meerie matters whan he is withdrawen with him into private and secrete places alwayes doinge him to understande the truth without dissimulation or fl atterie. • Not to love promotions so, that a man shoulde thinke he coulde not live without them, nor unshamefastlye to begg any offi ce. • Not to presse to his Prince where ever he be, to hould him with a vaine tale, that others should thinke him in favor with him. • To consyder well what it is that he doeth or speaketh, where in presence of whom, what time, why, his age, his profession, the ende, and the meanes. • The fi nal end of a Courtier, where to all his good condicions and honest qualities tende, is to beecome an Instructer and Teacher of his Prince or Lorde, inclininge him to vertuous practises: and to be francke and free with him, after he is once in favour in matters touching his honour and estimation, alwayes putting him in minde to 24 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

follow vertue and to fl ee vice, opening unto him the commodities of the one and inconveniences of the other: and to shut his eares against fl atterers, whiche are the fi rst beeginninge of self leekinge and all ignorance. His conversation with women to be alwayes gentle, sober, meeke, lowlie, modest, serviceable, comelie, merie, not bitinge or sclaundering with jestes, nippes, frumpes, or railinges, the honesty of any. • His love towarde women, not to be sensuall or fl eshlie, but honest and godly, and more ruled with reason, then appetyte: and to love better the beawtye of the minde, then of the bodie. • Not to withdrawe his maistresse good will from his felowlover with revilinge or railinge at him, but with vertuous deedes, and honest condicions, and with deserving more then he, at her handes for honest affections sake.

Indeed, all things are full of fables; Æsop, a supreme writer of fables, of allegorical stories on animals and things of two parts: the personifi cation itself, and its symbolical meaning; yet they be tales told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.22 And education be that which discloses to the wise and disguises from the foolish their lack of understanding. Alas! I must and will return to my tender years at York House, and blossom under mother. She busieth at markets, clutches her sons’ small fi ngers in protection of the sound of axels grazing ’gainst their hubs that give hardly any warning of the speeding carriages. On our return home, we are then settled in our beds ’gainst the warmth of her fables and the monotonous glow of a fi re burning in a fi replace. Many a time we escape the torture of early beddings to delight unto a visit from some travelling fair of gypsies, tumblers and jugglers at York House. The Lords and their Ladies arrive; entertained through the night upon dance, music and plays. I remember an instance of such a travelling fair: one of the jugglers had the better of two of my father’s servants, whom we shall call the Thrubwells (father and son.) In our company is uncle Burghley. The witty juggler held out a pair of cards then turned to young Thrubwell: “What card do I hold?” Old Thrubwell, of many years in the service of my father, interrupts “It is the ten of hearts, you hollow feast of a man.” The juggler fl ips the leaf in his palm and the ten of hearts is revealed. I jump out of my seat in jesty spirits only to be pulled back by Uncle Burghley’s comment, “this is a mistake to believe; it was not the knowledge of the man’s thought for that is proper to God, but it was the enforcing of a thought upon elder Thrubwell, and binding his imagination by a stronger, that he could think no other card. Young Master Bacon, do you remember whether the juggler told young Thrubwell the card he thought, himself, or bade his father tell it?” I fault not to reply. “He bade his father to tell it.” “So I thought! Himself could not have put on so strong an imagination; but by telling elder Thrubwell the card, who believed that the juggler was some strange man, and could do strange things, that you caught a strong imagination. Do you remember, whether he

22 Shakespeare’s Macbeth Lochithea 25 bade young Thrubwell to think the card fi rst, and afterwards told elder Thrubwell in his ear what he should think; or else that he did whisper fi rst in elder Thrubwell’s ear that should tell the card, telling that young Thrubwell should think such a card, and after bade him think a card?” Though it did somewhat sink with me, yet I made it lighter than I thought, and saith: “Methinks it was confederacy between the juggler and the two Thrubwells.” I had no reason to think this, for they were both my father’s servants, and the juggler had never played in the house before;23 methinks uncle Burghley did confuse me with the Thrubwells. “Ay,” uncle Burghley announces, “now the plot thickens very much upon us.” The rejection that I continually use, of experiment (though it appeareth not) is infi nite; but yet, if an experiment be probable in the work and of great use I receive it, but deliver it as doubtful. Nature is a labyrinth, in which the very haste you move with will make you lose your way.24

Francis Bacon Essay III. Of Ceremonies and Respects25 He that is only real had need have exceeding great parts of virtue, as the stone had need be rich that is set without foil. But commonly it is in praise as it is in gain. For as the proverb is true, that light gains make heavy purses: because they come thick, whereas great come but now and then, so it is as true that small matters win great commendation: because they are continually in use and in note, whereas the occasion of any great virtue commeth but on holy days. To attain good forms, it sufﬁ ceth not to despise them, nor so shall a man observe them in others, and let him trust himself with the rest: for if he care to express them he shall less their grace, which is to be natural and unaffected. Some men’s behaviour is like a verse wherein every syllable is measured. How can a man comprehend great matters that breaketh his mind too much to small observations? Not to use ceremonies at all, is to teach others not to use them again, and so diminish his respect; especially they be not to be omitted to strangers and strange natures. Among a man’s peers a man shall be sure of familiarity, and therefore it is a good title26 to keep state; amongst a man’s inferiors one shall be sure of reverence, and therefore it is good a little to be familiar. He that is too much in any thing, so that he give another occasion of satieties, maketh himself cheap. To apply ones self to others is good, so it be with demonstration that a man doth it upon regard, and not upon facility. It is a good precept generally in seconding another: yet to add somewhat of ones own; as if you will grant his opinion, let it be with some distinction,

23 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i, century x (946). An account is given in Aubrey’s Brief Lives how Sir Thomas More had two riders imagining a dragon had appeared in the sky. 24 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 25 According to Spedding, “among the innumerable editions of Bacon’s essays that have been published, there are only four which, as authorities for the text, have any original or independent value; namely those published by Bacon himself in 1597, in 1612, and in 1625; and the Latin version published by Dr. Rawley in 1638.” All essays inserted in these Journals have been quoted from Spedding’s Works, vol. xii 26 So in the original: a mistake for “it is good a little.”—James Spedding 26 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals if you will follow his motion, let it be with condition; if you allow his council, let it be with alleging further reason.

On a next morrow, father and his peers (summoned by the Realm) assemble at Westminster: laws are made on the relief of the poor, on matters of the navy, on maintenance and increase of tillage, on the punishing of vagabonds, forgers of evidences, clippers, washers, rounders, and ﬁ lers of money, phantasticall prophecies, conjurers or sorcerers, buggerers, and perjurers, for translating the Bible and divine service into the Welsh tongue. Meantime, I would not be understood to deny that I, for my part, am very little subject to these political passions; I am naturally of a stubborn apprehension, which also, by reasoning, I every day harden and fortify.

Law By G.J.27 Once Law was sitting on the bench, And Mercy knelt a-weeping. “Clear out!” he cried, “disordered wench! Nor come before me creeping. Upon your knees if you appear, ’Tis plain you have no standing here.”

O, so thinkst law will penetrate my wit? Allow me some clemency Reader, that I may continue: when all serene, mother retreats to her chambers and waits for father’s return. I should add that even though I could not fathom how a man satisfi es his loins, amongst the servants there would be releases of incontrollable giggles, as they say, whenever father’s moans were heard; only presuming he was expressing his releasements and fulfi lments in his ageing years being a possible reaction of mother nineteen years his younger with her passions at rise. These passions did have times of relinquishments; one of those nights did arrive but had no power to endure.28 One night, father goeth into the kitchen, served he some wine with a leaf of burrage being soaked in it, and took to the top fl oor entering the main chambers. He immediately slumps into a chair. Mother glances at the mug in his hand. “Should your diet allow this wine, dearest?” Nicholas motions her close: “Some sovereign drink for melancholy passions.” Mother settles on his lap as he continues: “Her Majesty disfavours me; dismisses me from Court this very morning.” “How could this be? You have been in full jurisdiction of Lord Chancellor since 1559.”

27 Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictionary, 1881 28 This event takes place in the year 1563–64: Shakspeare’s birth and where “Shakspeare is the only biographer of Shakspeare; and even he can tell nothing, except to the Shakspeare in us.”— See John Lord, LL.D: Beacon Lights of History, vol. xiii published in 1902 Lochithea 27

He reaches slightly forward and releases the laces from her ankle boots; he seems a weakling to her pretty ankles. “She holds me privy to a book of John Hales. He is a man most opiniative, but of much variety in learning, and has written a favourable account of Lady Catherine Grey to the throne in case her Majesty should die without issue, to the House of Suffolk.” “That cannot be, Nicholas, our Sacris conciliis alterum columen; did not thee defend thy self?” Observing his haughty and obstinate silence, and wont to say more, she knoweth that he hath defended his innocence and thoroughly believed he be returned to her Majesty’s favour. Why, I remembereth to have thus added in my Apophthegms, my father’s anecdote when Queen Elizabeth on the morrow of her coronation (it being the custom to release prisoners at the inauguration of a Prince) went to the Chapel; and in the great chamber one of her Courtiers, who was well known to her, either out of his own motion, or by the instigation of a wiser man, presented her with a petition, and before a great number of Courtiers besought her with a loud voice that now this good time there might be four or fi ve more principal prisoners released: these were the four evangelists, and the apostle St. Paul, who had been long shut up in an unknown tongue, as it were in prison; so as they could not converse with the common people. The Queen answered very gravely, that it was best fi rst to inquire of themselves whether they would be released or not. Mother feels the reporter to the heart; love sets all on fi re. She kissed, and believed that she is kissed again; she thinks her limbs yield to the pressure of his fi ngers, and fears lest they should become black and blue with his ardour: Yea, they do!29 Away with this night, for a sharp frost covers Old Father Thames unlike the burning words from Queen Elizabeth that penetrate further into town from Parliament: “Princes’ words do enter more deeply into men’s ears and minds, take these things from our mouth. I that am a lover of the simple truth have ever thought you likewise to be ingenuous lovers of the same. But I have been deceived. For I have found that in this Parliament dissimulation hath walked up and down, masked under the wizard of Liberty and Succession. Of your number some there are which have thought that liberty to dispute of the succession, and to establish the same, is forthwith either to be granted or denied. If we had granted it, these men had had their desire, and had triumphed over us. And if we had denied it, they thought to have moved the hatred of our people against us, which our mortallest enemies could never yet do. But their wisdom was unseasonable, and their counsels over-hasty, neither did they foresee the event. Yet hereby we have easily perceived who incline towards us, and who are adverse unto us. And we see that your whole House may be divided into four sorts. For some have been plotters and authors, some actors, which with smooth words have persuaded, some which have consented being seduced with smooth words, and some which have been silent, admiring such boldness; and these certainly are the more excusable. Do ye think that we neglect your safety and security by the succession? Or that we have a will to infringe your liberty? Be it far from us. We never thought it. But indeed we thought good to call you back when ye were running into the pit. Every thing hath its fi t season. Ye may peradventure after us have a wiser Prince; but a more loving towards you, ye shall never have. For our part, whether we may see such a Parliament again, we know not. But for you, take heed, lest ye provoke your Princes’ patience. Nevertheless, of this be

29 Ovid, Met., iii. 424 28 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals assured, that we think very well of most of you, and do embrace every one of you with our former kindness, even from our heart.”30 My private tutoring begins at the age of fi ve under the wing of Master John Walsall. My father is destined to have me take into a society where speech is the only benefi t man hath to express his Excellency of mind above other creatures; it is the instrument of society.31 On the sweetest of morns at six, my fair fl ight to pictures and books, that hardly enthrals me to repeat titles, creep into my face by my tutors. On the hour of seven, the chimes of some miniature mechanical clock veils my parents’ thrusty awakening and is discreetly dismissed by the tutors with a wave of their hand ’gainst their high noses. By the hour of nine of the clock, my father pecks a kiss on my forehead: “Your Uncle, Sir Thomas Hoby, hath translated his work The Courtier into English.” Father briefl y adds to my education with a quotation from the Scriptures, fi rmly rests his noble attire around his belly, then exits the room for London’s streets and the Justice Courts, where he spends his entire day amongst the three classes legally allowed: of those employed; of suitors; of servants or Courtiers. He is the Lord Keeper of the Great Seal: an appointed position since 1558 by Elizabeth I., when she made him a Great Offi cer of the State and entitled him to like place, pre-eminence, jurisdiction, execution of laws, and all other customs, commodities and advantages as Lord Chancellor. It be on Saturdays, with the approval of mother, that he should take to relaxation and visit his great project: the building of Gorhambury House; a project that begun in 1563 and would not be completed till 1568.32 On his return, he fair to deliver his honours at Benet’s College, Cambridge, of where he is member and benefactor.33 In my father’s absence, mother makes her soldier steps around the house, attends to the household, addresses the servants in preparation for dinner and accepts an occasional visit from a relative. It would be the healthy hour of the middle day, when all is mastered from educational torment and I am at liberty to escape to nature and not to dramatic poesy; which has the theatre for its world, would be of excellent use if well directed. For the stage is capable of no small infl uence both of discipline and of corruption. Now of corruptions in this kind we have enough; but the discipline has in our times been plainly neglected. And though in modern States play-acting is esteemed but as a toy, except when it is too satiri- cal and biting; yet among the ancients it was used as a means of educating men’s minds to virtue. Nay, it has been regarded by learned men and great philosophers as a kind of

30 William Camden: Annals 31 Ben Jonson: Timber, or Discoveries, 1640 32 Delia Bacon: The Philosophy of the Play of Shakspere Unfolded, 1857: “When Sir Nicholas Bacon, the Lord Keeper, lived, every room in Gorhambury was served with a pipe of water from the pond distant about a mile off. In the lifetime of Mr. Anthony Bacon the water ceased, and his Lordship coming to the inheritance could not recover the water without inﬁ nite charge. When he was Lord Chancellor, he built Verulam House close by the pond yard, for a place of privacy when he was called upon to dispatch any urgent business. And being asked why he built there, his Lordship answered that, seeing he could not carry the water to his house, he would carry his house to the water.” 33 Spedding: Works, vol i Lochithea 29 musician’s bow by which men’s minds may be played upon. So much for Dramatic Poesy; to Nature I goeth!34

Francis Bacon Essay XLVI. Of Gardens God Almighty ﬁ rst planted a Garden. And indeed it is the purest of human pleasures. It is the greatest refreshment of the spirits of man; without which buildings and palaces are but gross handy-works: and a man shall ever see that when ages grow to civility and elegancy, men come to build stately sooner than to garden ﬁ nely; as if gardening were the greater perfection. I do hold it, in the royal ordering of gardens, there ought to be gardens for all the months in the year; in which severally things of beauty may be then in season.35

34 Francis Bacon: Aphorisms xiii. Spedding, in his Works, vol. ii, p. 223: “It is a curious fact that these remarks on the character of the modern drama were probably written, and were certainly fi rst published, in the same year which saw the fi rst collection of Shakespeare’s play; of which, though they had been fi lling the theatre for the last thirty years, I very much doubt whether Bacon had ever heard. How little notice they attracted in those days as works of literary pretension, may be inferred from the extreme diffi culty which modern editors have found in ascertaining the dates, or even the order of their production. Though numbers of contemporary news-letters, fi lled with literary and fashionable intelligence, have been preserved, it is only in the Stationer’s register and the accounts kept by the Master of the Revels that we fi nd any notices of the publication or acting of Shakespeare’s plays. In the long series of letters from John Chamberlain to Dudley Carleton, scattered over the whole period from 1598 to 1623, letters full of the news of the month; news of the court, the city, the pulpit, and the booksellers; shop; in which court, masques are described in minute details, author, actors, plot, performance, reception and all; we look in vain for the name of Shakepeare or of any one of his plays. And yet during that period Hamlet, Twelfth Night, Othello, Measure for Measure, the Merchant of Venice, Macbeth, Lear, the Tempest, the Winter’s Tale, Coriolanus, and several more, must have appeared as novelties. And indeed that very letter without which we should hardly know that Shakespeare was personally known to any one in the great world as a distinguished dramatic writer, I mean Lord Southampton’s letter in furtherance of a petition from him and Burbage to the Lord Chancellor Ellesmere, proves at the same time, if it be not a forgery, as it is now said to be, how little was known about him by people of that quality. “This other” (he writes, after describing him as his especial friend and the writer of some of our best English plays,) hath to name William Shakespeare … both are right famous in their qualities, though it longeth not of your lordship’s gravity and wisdom to resort unto the places where they were wont to delight the public ear.” This was in 1608; and yet only six years before, when Ellesmere received Elizabeth at Harewood, Othello had been acted there for her entertainment. Even now a writer otherwise unknown hardly becomes known as the author of a successful play. “At present” said Mr. Rogers, “new plays seem hardly to be regarded as literature; people may go to see them acted, but no one thinks of reading them. During the run of Paul Pry, I happened to be at a dinner-party, where everbody was talking about it, that is, about Liston’s performance of the hero. I asked fi rst one person, then another, and then another, who was the author of it? Not a man or woman in the company knew that it was written by Poole!”—Recollections of the Table- talk of Samuel Rogers, p. 253.” 35 “The scene in Winter’s Tale, where Perdita presents the guests with fl owers suited to their ages, has some expressions which, if this Essay had been contained in the earlier edition, would have made me suspect that Shakespeare had been reading it.”—Spedding: Works, vol. xii. p. 235 30 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

For December, and January, and the latter part of November, you must take such things as are green all winter:36 holly; ivy; bays; juniper;37 cypress-trees;38 yew; pine-apple-trees; fi r-trees;39 rosemary; lavender; periwinkle, the white, the purple, and the blue; germander; fl ags; orange-trees; lemon-trees; and myrtles,40 if they be stoved; and sweet marjoram, warm set. There followeth, for the latter part of January and February, the mezereon-tree, which then blossoms; crocus vernus, both the yellow and the grey; primroses; anemo- nes; the early tulippa; hyacinthus orientalis; chamæris; fritellaria. For March, there come violets, especially the single blue, which are the earliest; the yellow daffodil; the daisy; the almond-tree41 in blossom; the peach-tree in blossom; the cornelian-tree in blossom; sweet-briar. In April follow, the double white violet; the wall-fl ower; the stock-gillifl ower; the cowslip; fl ower-de-lices, and lilies of all natures;42 rosemary-fl owers; the tulippa; the double piony; the pale daffodil; the French honeysuckle; the cherry-tree in blossom; the dammasin and plum-trees in blossom; the white thorn43 in leaf; the lilac-tree. In May and June come pinks of all sorts, specially the blush-pink; roses44 of all kinds, except the musk, which comes later; honeysuckles; strawberries; bugloss; columbine; the French marigold; fl os Africanus; cherry-tree in fruit; ribes; fi gs in fruit; rasps; vine-fl owers; lavender in

36 From Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale: Reverend Sirs, For you there’s Rosemary and Rue; these keep Seeming and savour all the winter long. Grace and Remembrance be to you both, And welcome to our shearing. Pol. Shepherdess, (A fair one are you) well you fi t our ages With fl owers of winter Spedding: Works, vol. xii. p. 235–236 37 A desert shrub of which its charcoal, obtained from, is valued 38 Used in a verse of the Bible Is. 44.14 where it is the material used for making a heathen idol 39 Its timber was used in building Temples, rafters of ships, decks, and for musical instruments, especially harps 40 Its dried fl owers and berries are used as a perfume. 41 The almond blossoms before the leaves come out, hence its Hebrew name sháked “hasten” or “watch.” The fruit was the model of the ornaments of the candlestick in the tabernacle. 42 In blossom; the peach-tree in blossom; the cornelian-tree in blossom; sweet-briar. In April follow, the double white violet; the wall-fl ower; the stock-gillifl ower; the cowslip; fl ower-de-lices, and lilies of all natures 43 The white-thorn is characteristic of arid and desert regions, a sharp toothed threshing instrument, or a plant used as such 44 After seeding, the leaves drop off and the branches turn inwards forming a wickerwork-like ball; but when put in water, it expands, as if alive again; hence called Anastatica (resurrection fl ower) Lochithea 31

fl owers; the sweet satyrian, with the white fl owers; herba muscaria; lilium convalium; the apple-tree45 in blossom. In July come gillifl owers of all varieties;46 musk roses; the lime- tree in blossom; early pears and plums in fruit; genitings, quadlins. In August come plums of all sorts in fruit; pears; apricocks; berberries; fi lberds; musk-melons;47 monks-hoods, of all colours. In September come grapes; apples; poppies of all colours; peaches; melocotones; nectarines; cornelians; wardens; quinces. In October and the beginning of November come services; medlars; bullaces; roses cut or removed to come late; holly-oaks; and such like. These particulars are for the climate of London; but my meaning is perceived, that you may have ver perpetuum, as the place affords. And because the breath of fl owers is far sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes like the warbling of music) than in the hand, therefore nothing is more fi t for that delight, than to know what be the fl owers and plants that do best perfume the air. Roses, damask and red, are fast fl owers of their smells; so that you may walk by a whole row of them, and fi nd nothing of their sweetness; yea though it be in a morning’s dew. Bays like wise yield no smell as they grow. Rosemary little; nor sweet marjoram. That which above all others yields the sweetest smell in the air, is the violet, specially the white double violet, which comes twice a year; about the middle of April, and about Batholomew-tide.48 Next to that is the musk-rose. Then the strawberry-leaves dying, with a most excellent cordial smell. Then the fl ower of the vines; it is a little dust, like the dust of a bent, which grows upon the cluster in the fi rst coming forth. Then sweet-briar. Then wall-fl owers, which are very delightful to be set under a parlour or lower chamber window. Then pinks and gillifl owers, specially the matted pink and clove gillifl ower. Then the fl owers of the lime-tree. Then the honeysuckles, so they be somewhat afar off. Of bean-fl owers I speak not, because they are fi eld fl owers. But those which perfume the air most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being trodden upon and crushed, are three; that is, burnet, wild-thyme, and

45 The Apple-Tree is used as an illustration in the Proverbs: The tree afforded a grateful shade; its fruit was sweet, fragrant, and golden, hanging among silvery leaves 46 From Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale: Sir, the year growing ancient, Not yet on Summer’s death, nor on the birth Of trembling Winter, the fairest fl owers o’ the season Are our Carnations and streaked Gilly-vors (Which some call Nature’s bastards) … Here’s fl owers for you: Hot Lavender, Mints, Savory, Marjoram, The Mary-gold, that goes to bed wi’ the Sun, And with him rises, weeping: These are fl owers Of middle Summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age Spedding: Works, vol. xii. p. 237 47 There is a succession of crops from May to November 48 St. Bartholomew’s Day: August 24 32 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals watermints. Therefore you are to set whole alleys of them, to have the pleasure when you walk or tread. For gardens (speaking of those which are indeed prince-like, as we have done of buildings), the contents ought not well to be under thirty acres of ground; and to be divided into three parts; a green in the entrance; a heath or desert in the going forth; and the main garden in the midst; besides alleys on both sides. And I like well that four acres of ground be assigned to the green; six to the heath; four and four to either side; and twelve to the main garden. The green hath two pleasures: the one, because nothing is more pleasant to the eye than green grass kept fi nely shorn; the other, because it will give you a fair alley in the midst, by which you may go in front upon a stately hedge, which is to enclose the garden. But because the alley will be long, and, in great heat of the year or day, you ought not to buy the shade in the garden by going in the sun through the green, therefore you are, of either side the green, a plant a covert alley, upon carpenter’s work, about twelve foot in height, by which you may go in shade into the garden. As for the making of knots or fi gures with divers coloured earths, that they may lie under the windows of the house on that side which the garden stands, they be but toys: you may see as good sights many times in tarts. The garden is best to be square, encompassed on all the four sides with a stately arched hedge. The arches to be upon pillars of carpenter’s work, of some ten foot high, and six foot broad; and the spaces between of the same dimension with the breadth of the arch. Over the arches let there be an entire hedge of some four foot high, frames also upon carpenter’s work; and upon the upper hedge, over every arch, a little turret, with a belly, enough to receive a cage of birds: and over every space between the arches some other little fi gure, with broad plates of round coloured glass gilt, for the sun to play upon. But this hedge I intend to be raised upon a bank, not steep, but gently slope, of some six foot, set all with fl owers. Also I understand, that this square of the garden should not be the whole breadth of the ground, but to leave on either side ground enough for diversity of side alleys; unto which the two covert alleys of the green may deliver you. But there must be no alleys with hedges at either end of this great enclosure; not at the hither end, for letting your prospect upon this fair hedge from the green; nor at the further end, for letting your prospect from the hedge through the arches upon the heath. For the ordering of the ground within the great hedge, I leave it to variety of device; advising nevertheless that whatsoever form you cast it into, fi rst, it be not too busy, or full of work. Wherein I, for my part, do not like images cut out in juniper or other garden stuff; they be for children. Little low hedges, round, like welts, with some pretty pyramids, I like well; and in some places, fair columns upon frames of carpenter’s work. I would also have the alleys spacious and fair. You may have closer alleys upon the side grounds, but none in the main garden. I wish also, in the very middle, a fair mount, with three ascents, and alleys, enough for four to walk abreast; which I would have to be perfect circles, without any bulwarks or embossments; and the whole mount to be thirty foot high; and some fi ne banqueting-house, with some chimneys neatly cast, and without too much glass. For fountains, they are a great beauty and refreshment; but pools mar all, and make the garden unwholesome, and full of fl ies and frogs. Fountains I intend to be of two natures: the one that sprinkleth or spouteth water; the other a fair receipt of water, of Lochithea 33 some thirty or forty foot square, but without fi sh, or slime, or mud. For the fi rst, the ornaments of images gilt, or of marble, which are in use, do well: but the main matter is so to convey the water, as it never stay, either in the bowls or in the cistern; that the water be never by rest discoloured, green or red or the like; or gather any mossiness or putrefaction. Besides that, it is to be cleansed every day by the hand. Also some steps up to it, and some fi ne pavement about it, doth well. As for the other kind of fountain, which we may call a bathing pool, it may admit much curiosity and beauty; wherewith we will not trouble ourselves: as, that the bottom be fi nely paved, and with images; the sides likewise; and withal embellished with coloured glass, and such things of lustre; encompassed also with fi ne rails of low statua’s. But the main point is the same which we mentioned in the former kind of fountain which is, that the water be in perpetual motion, fed by a water higher than the pool, and delivered into it by fair spouts, and then discharged away under ground, by some equality of bores, that it stay little. And for fi ne devices, of arching water without spilling, and making it rise in several forms (of feathers, drinking glasses, canopies, and the like), they be pretty things to look on, but nothing to health and sweetness. For the heath, which was the third part of our plot, I wish it to be framed, as much as may be, to a natural wildness. Trees I would have none in it, but some thickets made only of sweet-briar and honeysuckle, and some wild vine amongst; and the ground set with violets, strawberries, and primroses. For these are sweet, and prosper in the shade. And these to be in the heath, here and there, not in any order. I like also little heaps, in the nature of mole-hills (such as are in wild heaths), to be set, some with wild thyme; some with pinks; some with germander, that gives a good fl ower to the eye; some with periwinkle; some with violets; some with strawberries; some with cowslips; some with daisies; some with red roses; some with lilium convallium; some with sweet-williams red; some with bear’s- foot; and the like low fl owers, being withal sweet and sightly. Part of which heaps are to be with standards of little bushes pricked upon their top, and part without. The standards to be roses; juniper; holly; berberries; (but here and there, because of the smell of their blossom;) red currants; gooseberry; rosemary; bays; sweet-briar; and such like. But these standards to be kept with cutting, that they grow not out of course. For the side grounds, you are to fi ll them with variety of alleys, private, to give a full shade, some of them, wheresoever the sun be. You are to frame some of them likewise for shelter, that when the wind blows sharp, you may walk as in a gallery. And those alleys must be likewise hedged at both ends, to keep out the wind; and these closer alleys must be ever fi nely gravelled, and no grass, because of going wet. In many of these alleys likewise, you are to set fruit-trees of all sorts; as well upon the walls as in ranges. And this would be generally observed, that the borders wherein you plant your fruit-trees be fair and large, and low, and not steep; and set with fi ne fl owers, but thin and sparingly, lest they deceive the trees. At the end of both the side grounds, I would have a mount of some pretty height, leaving the wall of the enclosure breast high, to look abroad into the fi elds. For the main garden, I do not deny but there should be some fair alleys ranged on both sides, with fruit-trees; and some pretty tufts of fruit-trees, and arbours with seats, set in some decent order; but these to be by no means set too thick; but to leave the main garden so as it be not close, but the air open and free. For as for shade, I would have you rest upon 34 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals the alleys of the side grounds, there to walk, if you be disposed, in the heat of the year or day; but to make account that the main garden is for the more temperate parts of the year; and in the heat of summer, of the morning and the evening, or overcast days. For aviaries, I like them not, except they be of that largeness as they may be turfed, and have living plants and bushes set in them; that the birds may have more scope, and natural nestling, and that no foulness appear in the fl oor of the aviary. So I have made a platform of a princely garden, partly by precept, partly by drawing, not a model, but some general lines of it; and in this I have spared for no cost. But it is nothing for great Princes, that for the most part taking advice with workmen, with no less cost set their things together; and sometimes add statua’s, and such things, for state and magnifi cence, but nothing to the true pleasure of a garden.

Alarum! Markets are prohibited on the selling of fruit; a deadly disease is feared. ’Tis no matter, father calmeth me: “Fear not disease. Fear pirates!” Pirates? Her Majesty understandeth, that although by her former commandments notifi ed by proclamation to all her subjects, and namely to her offi cers in her ports, for the staying, ceasing, and suppressing of all occasions of piracies: yet some numbers of vessels armed with certain disordered persons mixed of sundry nations, do still haunt the narrow seas, and resort secretly into small creeks and obscure places of this realm for relief of vitals, and such like: and for their better defence to escape apprehension, do colourably pretend that they be licensed to serve on the seas, and are not to be accompted culpable as pirates. For remedy whereof, and to the intent no manner of pretext shall serve either such persons to commit piracies, or any other that shall relieve them for private gain or favour by fayned colours or pretence of ignorance: her Majesty straightly chargeth and commandeth all manner offi cers and Ministers, having rule and charge within any port town, or having authority to make deputies under them in any creek or landing place wheresoever the same be, that from henceforth no manner of person coming from the sea, be suffered to have any vital, munition, or any other relief for him self, his company, or vessel, except it be such as are notoriously known to appertain to merchants ships, passengers, or fi shermen, having need thereof. Neither that any person do by or receive any wares or goods of any person directly or indirectly coming from the seas, until the same wares or goods be brought and landed openly. A Proclamation ’gainst the maintenance of pirates according to the Laws of the Realm in places accustomed, with consent of the offi cers of the customs, and that all duties be fi rst paid for the same, according to the usage of merchants, upon pain that whosoever shall do the contrary, or be consenting thereto, shall be upon due information committed to prison, there to remain without bale, until inquisition be made (according to the Laws of this Realm) of them and their facts, as in cases of piracies, and to be adjudged and executed as pirates, as by law shall be ordered. And whosoever shall give information hereof against any offi cer of the customs, or any their deputies, and shall be able to prove the same, if any wise the informer be meet to exercise the same offi ce, they shall enjoy the same, or otherwise shall be duly and liberally recompensed according to their demerits. Her Majesty’s proclamation on piracy endeth thus: furthermore her Majesty willeth and commandeth all manner her offi cers, and specially wardens of ports, constables, or Lochithea 35 captains of castles upon the seas, and all other having any offi ce in port towns or places of landing, that they shall forth with, as they will answer at their uttermost peril, to do their uttermost in their jurisdictions to enquire, lay wait, and thereby apprehend all manner of persons that do haunt the seas with any kind of vessels armed, being not an apparent merchant, and utterly to stay all others making preparation thereto, and their vessels, other then such only as shall be openly known to be ordinary merchants, passengers, or usual fi shermen: and not from henceforth to allow or admit any allegation of license to sail upon the seas with any vessel armed, but such as are notoriously belonging to her Majesty, and may be sent to the seas for keeping the same free from pirates. And if any manner of person shall herein be found culpable, or manifestly negligent: her Majesty letteth them certainly to understand, that their punishment shall be pursued against them with such severity, as the example thereof shall hereafter remain for others to beware how in such cases to offend. Given At Otelande The Third Day Of August, 1569, In The Eleventh Year Of Her Majesty’s Reign.

More roundeth about: Queen Elizabeth offers the vulgar a verse in her stopping of the Virginia ﬂ eet:49 “The daughter of debate, that discord still doth sow, shall reap no gain where former rule hath taught still peace to grow. No foreign banish’d wight shall anker in this port our Realm it brooks no stranger’s force; let them elsewhere resort.” With purpose, father, amongst his assembled Lords at York House, announces that the Bull of Excommunication hath been published and set up on the gates of the Bishop of London’s Palace:50

Against Elizabeth Pretensed Queen of England And the heretikes adhering to her. Wherein also all her subjects are declared absolved from the Oath of Allegiance, and every other thing due unto her whatsoever; and those, which from henceforth obey her, are innovated with the anathema pius Bishop, servant to God’s servants, for a future memorall of the matter. He that reigneth on high, to whom is given all power in heaven and on earth, committed one, holy, Catholic and Apostolike Church, out of which there is no salvation, to one alone upon earth, namely to Peter the chief of the Apostles, and to Peter’s successor the Bishop of Rome, to be governed in fullness of power. Him alone he made Prince over all people, and all Kingdoms, to pluck up, destroy, scatter, consume, plant and build, that he may contain the faithful that are knit together with the band of charity, in the unity of the spirit, and present them spotless and unblameable to their Saviour. In discharge of which function, we which are by God’s goodness called to the government of the aforesaid Church, do spare no pains, labouring with all the earnestness that Unity and the Catholic Religion (which the Author thereof hath for the trial of his children’s faith, and for our amendment, suffered to be punished with so great afﬂ ictions)

49 Charles Kingsley: Westward Ho! Published in 1855 50 See Goadby’s England 36 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals might be preserved uncorrupt. But the number of the ungodly hath gotten such power that there is now no place left in the whole world which they have not assayed to corrupt with their most wicked Doctrines; amongst others, Elizabeth the pretensed Queen of England, the servant of wickedness, lending thereunto her helping hand, with whom as in a sanctuary the most pernicious of all have found a refuge. This very woman having seized on the Kingdom, and monstrously usurping the place of supreme head of the Church in all England, and the chief authority and jurisdiction thereof, hath again brought back the said Kingdom into miserable destruction, which was then newly reduced to the Catholic Faith and good fruits. For having by strong hand inhibited the exercise of the true Religion, which Mary the lawful Queen of famous memory, had by the help of this see restored after it had been formerly overthrown by Henry the Eighth, a revolter there from; and following and embracing the errors of Heretics, she hath removed the Royal Council consisting of the English Nobility, and fi lled it with obscure men being Heretics, suppressed the embraces of the Catholic Faith, placed dishonest Preachers, and Ministers of impieties, abolished the sacrifi ce of the mass, prayers, fasting, choice of meats, unmarried life, and the Catholic rites and ceremonies, commanded books to be read in the whole Realm containing manifest heresy; and impious mysteries and institutions by her self entertained and observed according to the prescript of Calvin, to be likewise observed by her subjects; presumed to throw Bishops, Parsons of Churches, and other Catholic Priests, out of their Churches and benefi ces, and bestow them and other Church-livings upon Heretics, and to determine of Church causes, prohibited the Prelates, Clergy and people to acknowledge the Church of Rome, or obey the precepts and Canonical sanctions thereof; compelled most of them to condescend to her wicked Laws, and to abjure the authority and obedience of the Bishop Rome, and to acknowledge her to be sole Lady in Temporal and Spiritual matters, and this by oath; imposed penalties and punishments upon those which obeyed not, and exacted them of those which persevered in the Unity of the Faith and their obedience aforesaid, cast the Catholic Prelates and Rectors of Churches in prison, where many therein being spent with long languishing and sorrow, miserably ended their lives. All which things, seeing they are manifest and notorious to all nations, and by the gravest testimony of very many so substantially proved that there is no place at all left for excuse, defence or evasion. We seeing that impieties and wicked actions are multiplied one upon another, and moreover that the persecution of the faithful, and affl iction for Religion, groweth every day heavier and heavier through the instigation and means of the said Elizabeth; because we understand her mind to be so hardened and indurate that she hath not only contemned the godly requests and admonitions of Catholic Princes concerning her healing and conversion, but also hath not so much as permitted the Nuncios of this sea to cross the seas into England, are constrained of necessity to betake our selves to the weapons of Justice against her, not being able to mitigate our sorrow that we are drawn to take punishment upon one, to whose ancestors the whole State of all Christendom hath been so much bounden. Being therefore supported with His authority, whose pleasure it was to place us (though unable for so great a burthen) in this supreme throne of Justice, we do out of the fullness of our Apostolike power declare the aforesaid Elizabeth being an Heretic, and a favourer Lochithea 37 of Heretics, and her adherents in the matters aforesaid, to have incurred the sentence of Anathema, and to be cut off from the unity of the body of Christ. And moreover we do declare her to be deprived of her pretended title to the Kingdom aforesaid, and of all dominion, dignity, and privilege whatsoever; and also the nobility, subjects, and people of the said Kingdom, and all others which have in any sort sworn unto her, to be for ever absolved from any such oath, and all manner of duty of dominion, allegiance, and obedience. As we also do by authority of these presents absolve them, and do deprive the same Elizabeth of her pretended title to the Kingdom, and all other things above said. And we do command and interdict all and every the Noblemen, Subjects, People, and others aforesaid that they presume not to obey her, or her monitions, Mandates, and Laws; and those which shall do the contrary, we do innovate with the like sentence of Anathema. And because it were a matter of too much diffi culty, to convey these presents to all places wheresoever it shall be needful, our will is that the copies thereof under a public Notaries hand, and sealed with the seal of an Ecclesiastical Prelate, or of his Court, shall carry altogether the same credit, with all people, judicially and extrajudically, as these present should do, if they were exhibited or shewed. Given at Rome at Saint Peter’s in the year of the incarnation of our Lord. One thousand fi ve hundreth sixty nine, the fi fth of the Calends of March, and of our Popedom the fi fty year. Caesar Glorierus.

I revealeth that mine future scholars of Trinity College o’ershoot themselves this passing year with 2.250 barrels of beer; ’tis a good time thither my prayers are many, of one of which I have much use:

The Student’s Prayer51 by Sir Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulam, and Viscount of St Alban To God the Father, God the Word, God the Spirit, we pour forth most humble and hearty supplications; that He, remembering the calamities of mankind, and the pilgrimage of this our life, in which we wear out days few and evil; would please to open to us new refresh- ments out of the fountains of his goodness, for the alleviating of our miseries. This also, we humbly and earnestly beg, that human things, may not prejudice such as are divine; neither that from the unlocking of the Gates of Sense, and the kindling of a greater natural light, anything of incredulity, or intellectual night, may arise in our minds towards divine mysteries. But rather that by our mind, thoroughly cleansed and purged from fancy and vanities; and yet subject and perfectly given up to the Divine Oracles, there may be given unto Faith, the things that are Faith’s. Amen.

51 Francis Bacon: Theological Remains, 1679 38 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Of Scottish matters ’tis heard come noblemen of Scotland invited by her Majesty to a King’s party, set forth at York House. Though ten of the age, my memory stills the passing of time: queenly pleasures ﬂ ow from hall to gallery; from chamber to livery; from garden to river. Preparations for the party fainted mother’s self away through a month of domesticity. And ’tis of wit that William Camden hath observed a new star, or if you will, a phenomenon: was seen in the constellation of Cassiopeia, which (as he him self observes) in brightness excelled Jupiter in the Perigee or nearest point of the Eccentric and Epicycle; and in the same place it continued full sixteen months, being carried about with the daily motion of the heaven. One Thomas Digsey and one John Dey, gentlemen and mathematicians amongst us, have learnedly proved by Paralactic Doctrine that it was in the celestial, not the Elementary Region; and they are of opinion that it vanished by little and little in ascending. Certainly after the eighth month all men perceived it to grow less and less. Theodor Beza wittily applied it to that star which shone at the birth of Christ, and to the murdering of the infants under Herod, and warned Charles the Ninth, King of France, who had confessed him self to be the author of the Massacre of Paris, to beware, in this verse: Tu vero Herodis sanguinolente, time. And look thou bloody Herod to thy self; and certainly he was not altogether deceived in his belief, for the ﬁ fth month after the vanishing of this star, the said Charles, after long and grievous pains, died of excessive bleeding. Her Majesty arrives under Royal State into London for the completion of the Burse; built by Sir Thomas Gresham Knight, Citizen of London, and the Queen’s Merchant, for the use of merchants. By great cheers trumpets, she names it the Royal Exchange.52 Alarum!!! Thunder-claps against mine ears: mother shutteth me in. “Cancel that peculiar expression from your mucky face. The face drawer arriveth.” And for the remaining of this day, I hear the cheers and trumpets from afar; though my image of twelve years shall be captured forever,53 as also that I have no purpose to conceal that William Cecil is bestowed in honours of Baron robes; his long service and faithful duties are observed by her Majesty: “And also for his circumspection, stoutness, wisdom, dexterity, integrity of life, providence, care, and faithfulness, we have of our special grace and favour, and of our certain knowledge and mere motion, raised, created, and advanced him to the State, degree, dignity, and honour of Baron of Burghley, and have imposed, given, and bestowed

52 William Camden: Diaries 53 There is a frontispiece portrait of Lord Bacon (Spedding: Works, vol. xi) that Spedding comments upon. I consider it appropriate only to add the comment and not the engraving; I have noticed this same portrait surﬁ ng the internet: it is unknown if it has been copied with or without permission: “The engraving which stands as frontispiece is a very correct representation of a bust belonging to the Earl of Verulam, to whose kindness I am indebted for permission to have a drawing made of it for this purpose, as well as for the facilities given to the artist. It is a coloured bust in terra-cotta, and is one of a set of three, done in the same style and material, and apparently by the same hand; said to be portraits of Sir Nicholas Bacon, Anne, his second wife, and their son Francis, when twelve years old. I regret that I could not learn anything more about them. They must have been done about the year 1572, by an artist of no ordinary skill, and have probably been at Gorhambury ever since. They show, among other things, that Bacon’s likeness was to his mother; a fact, I believe, not otherwise known.” Lochithea 39 upon him the name, style, and title of Baron of Burghley, to have and to hold to him and his heirs male issuing from his body for ever.”54 London heareth that Catherine de Médicis is wed to Henry of Navarre; though a Protestant and Catherine of a Catholic, she arranges the marriage in welding the two houses; but actually it seems to have been a snare to lure him to Paris, for it was at this precise time that the bloody Massacre of St. Bartholomew’s day is ordered. Henry himself escapes, through the protection of Marguerite, his bride, but his adherents in the Protestant party are slain by the thousands. Here follows two letters by the hand of Marguerite de Valois on this account:

Memoirs of Marguerite de Valois55 Some short time after this a marriage was projected betwixt the Prince of Navarre, now our renowned King Henri IV., and me. The Queen my mother, as she sat at table, discoursed for a long time upon the subject with M. de Meru, the House of Montmorency having ﬁ rst proposed the match. After the Queen had risen from table, he told me she had commanded him to mention it to me. I replied that it was quite unnecessary, as I had no will but her own; however, I should wish she would be pleased to remember that I was a Catholic, and that I should dislike to marry any one of a contrary persuasion. Soon after this the Queen sent for me to attend her in her closet. She there informed me that the Montmorencys had proposed this match to her, and that she was desirous to learn my sentiments upon it. I answered that my choice was governed by her pleasure, and that I only begged her not to forget that I was a good Catholic. This treaty was in negotiation for some time after this conversation, and was not ﬁ nally settled until the arrival of the Queen of Navarre, his mother, at Court, where she died soon after. Whilst the Queen of Navarre lay on her deathbed, a circumstance happened of so whimsi- cal a nature that, though not of consequence to merit a place in the history, it may very well deserve to be related by me to you. Madame de Nevers, whose oddities you well know, attended the Cardinal de Bourbon, Madame de Guise, the Princesse de Conde, her sisters, and myself to the late Queen of Navarre’s apartments, whither we all went to pay those last duties which her rank and our nearness of blood demanded of us. We found the Queen in bed with her curtains undrawn, the chamber not disposed with the pomp and ceremonies of our religion, but after the simple manner of the Huguenots; that is to say, there were no priests, no cross, nor any holy water. We kept ourselves at some distance from the bed, but Madame de Nevers, whom you know the Queen hated more than any woman besides, and which she had shown both in speech and by actions, “Madame de Nevers,” I say, approached the bedside, and, to the great astonishment of all present, who well knew

54 Queen Elizabeth I’s honorary speech of William Cecil’s appointment 55 Marguerite de Valois’ (1553–1615) Memoirs printed in 1899. The daughter of Henry II., of France and Catherine de Médicis, she played a secondary part in the wars of religion (1562– 1598) from the moment she took her place at Court in 1569. Her relations with her brothers Charles IX., and the duc d’Anjou, the future Henry III., were often strained, and she had an early liaison with Henri, duc de Guise, the leader of the extremist Catholic party 40 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals the enmity subsisting betwixt them, took the Queen’s hand, with many low curtseys, and kissed it; after which, making another curtsey to the very ground, she retired and rejoined us. A few months after the Queen’s death, the Prince of Navarre, or rather, as he was then styled, the King, came to Paris in deep mourning, attended by eight hundred gentlemen, all in mourning habits. He was received with every honour by King Charles and the whole Court, and, in a few days after his arrival, our marriage was solemnised with all possible magnifi cence; the King of Navarre and his retinue putting off their mourning and dressing themselves in the most costly manner. The whole Court, too, was richly attired; all which you can better conceive than I am able to express. For my own part, I was set out in a most royal manner; I wore a crown on my head with the “coet”, or regal close gown of ermine, and I blazed in diamonds. My blue-coloured robe had a train to it of four ells in length, which was supported by three princesses. A platform had been raised, some height from the ground, which led from the Bishop’s palace to the Church of Nôtre Dame. It was hung with cloth of gold; and below it stood the people in throngs to view the procession, stifl ing with heat. We were received at the church door by the Cardinal de Bourbon, who offi ciated for that day, and pronounced the nuptial benediction. After this we proceeded on the same platform to the tribune which separates the nave from the choir, where was a double staircase, one leading into the choir, the other through the nave to the church door. The King of Navarre passed by the latter and went out of church. But fortune, which is ever changing, did not fail soon to disturb the felicity of this union. This was occasioned by the wound received by the Admiral, which had wrought the Huguenots up to a degree of desperation. The Queen, my mother, was reproached on that account in such terms by the elder Pardaillan and some other principal Huguenots, that she began to apprehend some evil design. M. de Guise and my brother the King of Poland, since Henri III., of France, gave it as their advice to be beforehand with the Huguenots. King Charles was of a contrary opinion. He had a great esteem for M. de La Rochefoucauld, Teligny, La Noue, and some other leading men of the same religion; and, as I have since heard him say, it was with the greatest diffi culty he could be prevailed upon to give his consent, and not before he had been made to understand that his own life aid the safety of his Kingdom depended upon it. The King having learned that Maurevel had made an attempt upon the Admiral’s life, by fi ring a pistol at him through a window, in which attempt he failed, having wounded the Admiral only in the shoulder, and supposing that Maurevel had done this at the instance of M. de Guise, to revenge the death of his father, whom the Admiral had caused to be killed in the same manner by Poltrot, he was so much incensed against M. de Guise that he declared with an oath that he would make an example of him; and, indeed, the King would have put M. de Guise under an arrest, if he had not kept out of his sight the whole day. Lochithea 41

The Queen, my mother, used every argument to convince King Charles that what had been done was for the good of the State; and this because, as I observed before, the King had so great a regard for the Admiral, La Noue, and Teligny, on account of their bravery, being himself a Prince of a gallant and noble spirit, and esteeming others in whom he found a similar disposition. Moreover, these designing men had insinuated themselves into the King’s favour by proposing an expedition to Flanders, with a view of extending his dominions and aggrandising his power, knew would secure to themselves an infl uence over his royal and generous mind. Upon this occasion, the Queen, my mother, represented to the King that the attempt of M. de Guise upon the Admiral’s life was excusable in a son who, being denied justice, had no other means of avenging his father’s death. Moreover, the Admiral, she said, had deprived her by assassination, during his minority and her regency, of a faithful servant in the person of Charri, commander of the King’s bodyguard, which rendered him deserving of the like treatment. Notwithstanding that the Queen my mother spoke thus to the King, discovering by her expressions and in her looks all the grief which she inwardly felt on the recollection of the loss of persons who had been useful to her; yet, so much was King Charles inclined to save those who, as he thought, would one day be serviceable to him, that he still persisted in his determination to punish M. de Guise, for whom he ordered strict search to be made. At length Pardaillan, disclosing by his menaces, during the supper of the Queen my mother, the evil intentions of the Huguenots, she plainly perceived that things were brought to so near a crisis, that, unless steps were taken that very night to prevent it, the King and herself were in danger of being assassinated. She, therefore, came to the resolution of declaring to King Charles his real situation. For this purpose she thought of the Marechal de Rais as the most proper person to break the matter to the King, the Marshal being greatly in his favour and confi dence. Accordingly, the Marshal went to the King in his closet, between the hours of nine and ten, and told him he was come as a faithful servant to discharge his duty, and lay before him the danger in which he stood, if he persisted in his resolution of punishing M. de Guise, as he ought now to be informed that the attempt made upon the Admiral’s life was not set on foot by him alone, but that his (the King’s) brother the King of Poland, and the Queen his mother, had their shares in it; that he must be sensible how much the Queen lamented Charri’s assassination, for which she had great reason, having very few servants about her upon whom she could rely, and as it happened during the King’s minority, at the time, moreover, when France was divided between the Catholics and the Huguenots, M. de Guise being at the head of the former, and the Prince de Conde of the latter, both alike striving to deprive him of his crown; that through Providence, both his Crown and Kingdom had been preserved by the prudence and good conduct of the Queen Regent, who in this extremity found herself powerfully aided by the said Charri, for which reason she had vowed to avenge his death; that, as to the Admiral, he must be ever considered as dangerous to the State, and whatever show he might make of affection for his Majesty’s 42 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals person, and zeal for his service in Flanders, they must be considered as mere pretences, which he used to cover his real design of reducing the Kingdom to a state of confusion. The Marshal concluded with observing that the original intention had been to make away with the Admiral only, as the most obnoxious man in the Kingdom; but Maurevel having been so unfortunate as to fail in his attempt, and the Huguenots becoming desperate enough to resolve to take up arms, with design to attack, not only M. de Guise, but the Queen his mother, and his brother the King of Poland, supposing them, as well as his Majesty, to have commanded Maurevel to make his attempt, he saw nothing but cause of alarm for his Majesty’s safety, as well on the part of the Catholics, if he persisted in his resolution to punish M. de Guise, as of the Huguenots, for the reasons which he had just laid before him. King Charles, a Prince of great prudence, always paying a particular deference to his mother, and being much attached to the Catholic religion, now convinced of the intentions of the Huguenots, adopted a sudden resolution of following his mother’s counsel, and putting himself under the safeguard of the Catholics. It was not, however, without extreme regret that he found he had it not in his power to save Teligny, La Noue, and M. de La Rochefoucauld. He went to the apartments of the Queen his mother, and sending for M. de Guise and all the Princes and Catholic offi cers, the “Massacre of St. Bartholomew” was that night resolved upon. Immediately every hand was at work; chains were drawn across the streets, the alarm-bells were sounded, and every man repaired to his post, according to the orders he had received, whether it was to attack the Admiral’s quarters, or those of the other Huguenots. M. de Guise hastened to the Admiral’s, and Besme, a gentleman in the service of the former, a German by birth, forced into his chamber, and having slain him with a dagger, threw his body out of a window to his master. I was perfectly ignorant of what was going forward. I observed every one to be in motion: the Huguenots, driven to despair by the attack upon the Admiral’s life, and the Guises, fearing they should not have justice done them, whispering all they met in the ear. The Huguenots were suspicious of me because I was a Catholic, and the Catholics because I was married to the King of Navarre, who was a Huguenot. This being the case, no one spoke a syllable of the matter to me. At night, when I went into the bedchamber of the Queen, my mother, I placed myself on a coffer, next my sister Lorraine, who, I could not but remark, appeared greatly cast down. The Queen, my mother, was in conversation with some one, but, as soon as she espied me, she bade me go to bed. As I was taking leave, my sister seized me by the hand and stopped me, at the same time shedding a fl ood of tears: “For the love of God,” cried she, “do not stir out of this chamber!” I was greatly alarmed at this exclamation; perceiving which, the Queen, my mother, called my sister to her, and chid her very severely. My sister replied it was sending me away to be sacrifi ced; for, if any discovery should be made, I should be the Lochithea 43

fi rst victim of their revenge. The Queen, my mother, made answer that, if it pleased God, I should receive no hurt, but it was necessary I should go, to prevent the suspicion that might arise from my staying. I perceived there was something on foot which I was not to know, but what it was I could not make out from anything they said. The Queen again bade me go to bed in a peremptory tone. My sister wished me a good night, her tears fl owing apace, but she did not dare to say a word more; and I left the bedchamber more dead than alive. As soon as I reached my own closet, I threw myself upon my knees and prayed to God to take me into his protection and save me; but from whom or what, I was ignorant. Hereupon the King my husband, who was already in bed, sent for me. I went to him, and found the bed surrounded by thirty or forty Huguenots, who were entirely unknown to me; for I had been then but a very short time married. Their whole discourse, during the night, was upon what had happened to the Admiral, and they all came to a resolution of the next day demanding justice of the King against M. de Guise; and, if it was refused, to take it themselves. For my part, I was unable to sleep a wink the whole night, for thinking of my sister’s tears and distress, which had greatly alarmed me, although I had not the least knowledge of the real cause. As soon as day broke, the King my husband said he would rise and play at tennis until King Charles was risen, when he would go to him immediately and demand justice. He left the bedchamber, and all his gentlemen followed. As soon as I beheld it was broad day, I apprehended all the danger my sister had spoken of was over; and being inclined to sleep, I bade my nurse make the door fast, and I applied myself to take some repose. In about an hour I was awakened by a violent noise at the door, made with both hands and feet, and a voice calling out, “Navarre! Navarre!” My nurse, supposing the King my husband to be at the door, hastened to open it, when a gentleman, named M. de Teian, ran in, and threw himself immediately upon my bed. He had received a wound in his arm from a sword, and another by a pike, and was then pursued by four archers, who followed him into the bedchamber. Perceiving these last, I jumped out of bed, and the poor gentleman after me, holding me fast by the waist. I did not then know him; neither was I sure that he came to do me no harm, or whether the archers were in pursuit of him or me. In this situation I screamed aloud, and he cried out likewise, for our fright was mutual. At length, by God’s providence, M. de Nangay, Captain of the Guard, came into the bedchamber, and, seeing me thus surrounded, though he could not help pitying me, he was scarcely able to refrain from laughter. However, he reprimanded the archers very severely for their indiscretion, and drove them out of the chamber. At my request he granted the poor gentleman his life, and I had him put to bed in my closet, caused his wounds to be dressed, and did not suffer him to quit my apartment until he was perfectly cured. I changed my shift, because it was stained with the blood of this man, and, whilst I was doing so, De Nangay gave me an account of the transactions of the foregoing night, assuring me that the King my husband was safe, and actually at that moment in 44 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals the King’s bedchamber. He made me muffl e myself up in a cloak, and conducted me to the apartment of my sister, Madame de Lorraine, whither I arrived more than half dead. As we passed through the antechamber, all the doors of which were wide open, a gentleman of the name of Bourse, pursued by archers, was run through the body with a pike, and fell dead at my feet. As if I had been killed by the same stroke, I fell, and was caught by M. de Nangay before I reached the ground. As soon as I recovered from this fainting-fi t, I went into my sister’s bedchamber, and was immediately followed by M. de Miofl ano, fi rst gentleman to the King my husband, and Armagnac, his fi rst valet de chambre, who both came to beg me to save their lives. I went and threw myself on my knees before the King and the Queen, my mother, and obtained the lives of both of them. Five or six days afterwards, those who were engaged in this plot, considering that it was incomplete whilst the King my husband and the Prince de Conde remained alive, as their design was not only to dispose of the Huguenots, but of the Princes of the blood likewise; and knowing that no attempt could be made on my husband whilst I continued to be his wife, devised a scheme which they suggested to the Queen, my mother, for divorcing me from him. Accordingly, one holiday, when I waited upon her to chapel, she charged me to declare to her, upon my oath, whether I believed my husband to be like other men. “Because,” said she, “if he is not, I can easily procure you a divorce from him.” I begged her to believe that I was not suffi ciently competent to answer such a question, and could only reply, as the Roman Lady did to her husband, when he chid her for not informing him of his stinking breath, that, never having approached any other man near enough to know a difference, she thought all men had been alike in that respect. “But,” said I, “Madame, since you have put the question to me, I can only declare I am content to remain as I am;” and this I said because I suspected the design of separating me from my husband was in order to work some mischief against him. Finis.

The news of the massacre arrives to Sir Francis Drake whilst on his journey to the Virginia land by a French Captain of Newhaven;56 a man that stood upon war as Sir Francis Drake; he notes worthily at their fi rst acquaintance and of the news from France: “The French Captain cast abroad his hands, and prayed our Captain to help him to some water, for that he had nothing but wine and cider aboard him, which had brought his men into great sickness. He had sought us ever since he fi rst heard of our being upon the coast, about this fi ve weeks. Our Captain sent one aboard him with some relief for the present, willing him to follow us to the next port, where he should have both water and victuals. At our coming to anchor, he sent our Captain a case of pistols, and a fair gift scimitar (which had been the late King’s of France, whom Monsieur Montgomery hurt in the eye, and was given him by Monsieur Strozze. Our Captain requited him with a chain of gold, and a tablet which he wore. This Captain reported unto us the fi rst news of the Massacre of Paris, at the King of Navarre’s marriage on Saint Bartholomew’s Day last; of the Admiral of France slain in his chamber, and divers other murders: so that he thought

56 See Philip Nichols: Sir Francis Drake Revived, 1910 Lochithea 45 those Frenchmen the happiest which were farthest from France, now no longer France but Frensy, even as if all Gaul were turned into wormwood and gall: Italian practices having over-mastered the French simplicity. He showed what famous and often reports he had heard of our great riches. He desired to know of our Captain which way he might compass his voyage also. Though we had seen him in some jealousy and distrust, for all his pretence; because we considered more the strength he had than the good-will he might bear us: yet upon consultation among ourselves, whether it were ﬁ t to receive him or not we resolved to take him and twenty of his men, to serve with our Captain for halves. In such sort as we needed not doubt of their forces, being but twenty; nor be hurt by their portions, being no greater than ours: and yet gratify them in their earnest suit, and serve our own purpose, which without more help we could very hardly have achieved. Indeed, he had seventy men, and we now but thirty one; his ship was above eighty tons, and our frigate not twenty, or pinnace nothing near ten tons. Yet our Captain thought this proportionable, in consideration that not numbers of men, but quality of their judgements and knowledge, were to be the principal actors herein: and the French ship could do not service, or stand in any stead to this enterprise which we intended, and had agreed upon before, both touching the time when it should take beginning, and the place where we should meet, namely, at Rio Francisco. Having thus agreed with the French Captain, we sent for the Cimaroons as before was decreed. Two of them were brought aboard our ships, to give the French assurance of this agreement.” The breath of ﬂ owers of double white violet follow my twelve years; I leave behind the cherry tree in blossom and walk under the damascene and plum tree arches of Trinity College, Cambridge; the same arches that Coke had departed through two years earlier in 1571. Master White-Gift, now three and forty years, receiveth me in his gowns and amorous persuasions. He is now in middle stature, strong and well shaped, of a grave countenance and brown complexion, black hair and eyes, his beard neither long nor thick:57 “You will not question, you will answer. I have been relieved of my duties this day to accompany you and help you settle in your quarters. Be there questions to ask your father?” Would Master White-Gift, who has been described as narrow-minded, mean, a tyrannical priest, who gained power by servility and adulation, and employed it in persecuting both those who agreed with Calvin about Church Government, and those who differed from Calvin touching the doctrine of Reprobation,58 allow me to release the river of questions I had? I cannot say, for not a trickle escapes my lips, except: “Nay, Master White-Gift. I only wish my father a safe return home.”

57 Description by Sir George Paule, biographer of Whitgift 58 This is the description of Whitgift given by Lord Macaulay (1800–1859) in his famous article on Lord Bacon in 1837, which is well known and talked about though “deﬁ cient in spiritual insight.”—See John Lord, LL.D: Beacon Lights of History, vol. xiii published in 1902. Lord Macaulay was an English Whig [members of two opposing political parties or factions in England, particularly during the 18th century] politician, essayist, poet, and historian best known for his History of England, 5 vol. (1849–61); this work, which covers the period 1688– 1702, secured his place as one of the founders of what has been called the Whig interpretation of history. He was raised to the peerage in 1857 46 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Master White-Gift addresses father: “Your son doth well to obey, Lord Bacon. Not long before did we see you in these establishments, your Grace.” “That, Master White-Gift, allows memory to thrive on the year when I be eighteen; could I have only been so young?” “All men have one gleam of light, your Grace.” Father’s retreat is veiled under an April shower to his entry unto a stormy arrival at York House: there comes forth from the English rebels and fugitives a scandalous book entitled A Treatise of Treason, wherein they accuse father and uncle Burghley, of treason ’gainst their country, to work them into hatred with the Prince and people, who by their wisdom and industry, had prevented or broken their enterprises and lured hope. And so far was the Queen from giving credit to these accusations, that by public proclamation she declareth them to be improbable, false, and mere slanders, and maliciously forged by the professed enemies to the true religion and their country, to no other intent then by bad and secret practises to deprive the Realm of her most faithful Councillors. Wherefore, she warns all men to give no credit to the said libels, but to neglect them and burn them, unless they would undergo the penalty to be infl icted upon favourers of sedition. Nevertheless, these books (through the natural curiosity of men) because they are prohibited are often red, until (as many times commeth to pass), being contemned they grow out of request.59 Lodged as the lowest and most inferior subject, I enter a College room where four boys are in shrewishness over their occupancy. No heart to interfere on who should taketh high beds or who should taketh truckle beds, I depart to fi nd the library. And again, if a man turn from the workshop to the library, and wonder at the immense variety of books he sees there, let him but examine and diligently inspect their matter and contents, and his wonder will assuredly be turned the other way; for after observing their endless repetitions, and how men are ever saying and doing what has been said and done before, he will pass from admiration of the variety to astonishment at the poverty and scantiness of the subjects which till now have occupied and possessed minds of men.60 Even the slightest loss of time should be accounted precious: I take to the gardens; what humour, tragedy, sublimity, pathos, that I fi nd such a peculiar circumstance of the communication of sounds: as in bellies of lutes, empty vessels, &c., hath been touched obiter, [literally] in the majoration of sounds; but it is fi t also to make a title of it apart. The experiment for greatest demonstration of communication of sounds, is the chiming of bells; where, if you strike with a hammer upon the upper part, and then upon the midst, and then upon the lower, you shall fi nd the sound to be more treble and more base, according unto the concave on the inside, though the percussion be only on the outside. When the sound is created between the blast of the mouth and the air of the pipe, it hath nevertheless some communication with the matter of the sides of the pipe, and the spirits in them contained; for in a pipe, or trumpet, of wood and brass, the sound will be diverse; so if the pipe be covered with cloth or silk, it will give a diverse sound from that it would do of itself; so if the pipe be a little wet on the inside, it will make a differing sound from

59 William Camden: Diaries 60 Francis Bacon: Novum Organum, 1620 Lochithea 47 the same pipe dry. That sound made within water doth communicate better with a hard body through water, than made in air it doth with air.61 Back to the main building, on entering an upper chamber of Trinity College, which being thought weak in the roof of it, was supported by a pillar of iron of the bigness of one’s arm, in the midst of the chamber; which if you had struck, it would make a little ﬂ at noise in the room where it was struck, but it would make a great bomb in the chamber beneath.62 I confess to spend an entire morning where unto this matter, Master White-Gift searcheth me. Should he have wondered I hath been sucked down such pipes and vanished, I cannot say. If only I could delve upon some experiment for these warts, but the effect of these warts are of my habit in counting the falling stars, as they are called, for they are commonly supposed to consist rather of some bright and lighted viscous substance, than to be of any strong ﬁ ery nature. But on this point let further inquiry be made63 as Porta hath done in his Natural Magick: “The Ancients used the greater spurge whose juice, anointed on with salt takes warts away; and therefore they called it Warts Herb. There is also a kind of succory called Verrucaria from the effect, for if one eats it but once in sallets all the warts will be gone from any part of the body; or if you swallow one drachm of the seeds.”64

Be it so of Magick; let us go on with this journal, for this is in our power.

61 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century ii. (166, 167, 168) 62 “Mr. Edleston, fellow and steward of the College, who is probably as conversant with its history as any member of the present society, informs me that nothing is known of this chamber, and that he is therefore disposed to believe that it formed part of the buildings removed in the fi rst years of the 17th century, in order to make room for what is now the Old Court.”—James Spedding 63 Spedding: Works, vol. viii. p. 185 64 There is in the same book two recipes for wrinkles that I feel should be given to the modern Reader: “When eggs are boiled hard in water, cut them in the middle, fi ll the holes where the yolks were, with powder of myrrh (an aromatic, bitter gum resin obtained principally from a small thorny tree, Commiphora myrrha (family Burseraceae), native to Anatolia and northeast Africa, myrrh was highly prized in the ancient and medieval world as an ingredient of perfume, incense, cosmetics, and medicines. The Egyptians used it in embalming, fi lling body cavities with powdered myrrh; and, along with Frankencens and gold, it was a gift of the Magi to the infant Jesus. The production and value of myrrh have sharply declined in the modern world, the resin fi nding limited medicinal use in tonics, dentifrices, stomach remedies, and as an emollient for sore gums and mouth. An essential oil obtained from myrrh is an ingredient of perfume), then cover one with the other half, and bind them with a thread, that they come not asunder. Then take a glazed earthen vessel, with a broad mouth, and lay sticks across it, that the eggs may lie upon them hanging near the bottom. Let the cleft of the eggs hang toward the bottom; put the earthen vessel into a chest of osiers, and set it in a well. Let it hang one foot from the water. By the moisture whereof, the myrrh will dissolve into oil of water. Anoint your face with it. Another is to use the juice of the green canes of the Pine tree, but is weaker then the distilled water, being applied to the face, with a linen cloth wet therein, will take away all wrinkles from the face excellently well.” 48 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

College rules: we begin at six; our awakening at half the hour of four in the deathly morning of the clock; for surely I am up before the Lark. Dress, bathe, and attend in the Grand Hall: prayers at six upon the chime (how those sounds torment me.) Nine of the clock, breakfast taken, and much time spendeth in studies of sloth: to us then too much for ornament, is affectation; to make judgment only by their rules, is the humour of a scholar; and some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested65 for College Latin curriculum entailed: trivium [grammar,] rhetoric and dialectic; quadrivium [mathematics,] geometry, astronomy and music; the three philosophies on moral, natural and metaphysical.66 Of the manner I choose all. I taste some books to cast them back into dusty corners; I swallow many to allow my belly to blow instead of my brains; I chew on the Scriptures; on the Ancient Greeks and digest them till memory not permit. Aristotle in effect, is the Pope in Philosophy.67 The lectures are of general expositions upon Aristotle’s text. And every opinion, wrote by him as his own, is esteemed as authentic, as if it has been given under the Seal of the Fisher. I must and will walk beside Petrus Ramus.68 You are a philosopher; I have tried too in my time to be a philosopher; but, I do not know how, cheerfulness is always breaking in. I do suppress at once my speaking with panting and labour of breath and voice. Not to fall upon the main too sudden, but to induce and intermingle speech of good fashion. To use at once, upon entrance given, of speech, though abrupt, to compose and draw in my self. In all kinds of speech, either pleasant, grave, severe, or ordinary, it is convenient to speak leisurely, and rather drawlingly, than hastily; because hasty speech confounds the memory, and oftentimes, besides unseemliness, drives a man either to a nonplus or unseemly stammering, harping upon that which should follow; whereas a slow speech conﬁ rmeth the memory, addeth a

65 Extract from Francis Bacon’s Essay Of Studies 66 See Markku Peltonen: The Cambridge Companion to Bacon, 1996 67 Aristotle was born in 384 BC, Stagira, Chalcidice, Greece and died in 322, Chalcis, Euboea. He determined the orientation and the content of Western intellectual history. He was the author of a philosophical and scientifi c system that through the centuries became the support and vehicle for both medieval Christian and Islāmic scholastic thought: until the end of the 17th century, Western culture was Aristotelian. Even after the intellectual revolutions of centuries to follow, Aristotelian concepts and ideas remained embedded in Western thinking—Encyclopædia Britannica 68 Pierre De La Ramée (1515–1572) a French philosopher, logician, and rhetorician identifying logic with dialectic, neglected the traditional role that logic played as a method of inquiry and emphasised instead the equally traditional view that logic is the method of disputation, its two parts being invention, the process of discovering proofs in support of the thesis, and disposition, which taught how the materials of invention should be arranged. Of another with “dead faith in Arsitotle” was Thomas Campanella, an Italian, “who suffered for his ardour in the cause of science.” He was born in Calabria in 1568, and died in 1639. He entered the Dominican order when a boy, but had a free and eager appetite for knowledge. He urged, like Bacon, that Nature should be studied through her own works, not through books; he attacked, like Bacon, the dead faith in Aristotle, that instead of following his energetic spirit of research, lapsed into blind idolatry—See Ideal Commonwealths by various authors published in 1890 and Encyclopædia Britannica Lochithea 49 conceit of wisdom to the hearer, besides a seemliness of speech and countenance. A long continued speech, without a good speech of interlocution, sheweth slowness: and a good reply, without a good set speech, sheweth shallowness and weakness. My method of speech did alter from bashfulness, for it is a great hindrance to a man, both of uttering his conceit, and understanding what is propounded unto him; wherefore it is good to press himself forward with discretion, both in speech and company of the better sort.69 By the clock of after the noon, I delve into sports, perilous sports: a complete gallant in all points, cap à pied, witness his horsemanship and the wearing of his weapons.70 Saved by the blunt tips of the weapons, I survive into the eve of the day that is totally devoted to studies and more studies. Night falls without a hint. Though my hours be tedious, I cannot give to closing my eyes, for a rendezvous awaits me with mine Muse71 under the blanket of night. It is a way tedious, yet useful and honourable, like that way of the snail, which shineth though it is slow. My Muse Athena: Greek goddess of wisdom; of household arts and crafts; of spinning and weaving; of tex- tiles. Inventor of the fl ute, the plough and the ox-yoke, the horse bridle and the chariot. Athena: goddess of war; guardian of Athens, the city named for her; defender of heroes; champion of justice and civil law. The Muses are seen in the train of passion; there being scarce any passion which has not some branch of learning to fl atter it. For herein the majesty of the Muses suffers immensely from the license and wantonness of men’s wits, turning those that should be the guides and standard-bearers of man’s life into mere followers in the train and ministers to the pleasures of the passions. How could sleep trick me into closing my eyes and lose sight of this Muse? I must and will not allow sleep but embrace her with a lover’s arm.72

To My Muse73 Away and leave me, thou thing most abhorred That hast betrayed me to a worthless Lord; Made me commit most ﬁ erce idolatry To a great image through thy luxury. Be thy next master’s more unlucky muse, And, as thou hast mine, his hours, and youth abuse. Get him the time’s long grudge, the court’s ill will; And, reconciled, keep him suspected still. Make him lose all his friends; and, which is worse,

69 Francis Bacon: Short notes for Civil Conversation; Remains, 1648 70 Sir T. Overbury: Characters, 1614 71 The Nine Muses: in Greek myth, were the daughters of Memory, and presided over various arts and sciences. They were Clio, the Muse of History; Eyterpe, Lyric Poetry; Thalia, Comedy; Melpomene, Tragedy; Terpsichore, Dancing; Erato, Love Poetry; Polyhymnia, Psalmody; Urania, Astronomy and Calliope, Epic Poetry 72 Francis Bacon: Aphorisms xiii 73 Ben Jonson (1572–1637) LXV Poem: To My Muse, 1640 50 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Almost all ways, to any better course. With me thou leav’st an happier muse than thee, And which thou brought’st me, welcome poverty. She shall instruct my after-thoughts to write Things manly, and not smelling parasite. But I repent me: stay. Whoe’er is raised, For worth he has not, he is taxed, not praised. Ben Jonson

Of my friendly good pens I shall wed into these pages only a few when time shall opportune. Endure them with patience Reader, and allow me to name my man John, [Ben Jonson] whom once severed my limbs on the report of his imprisonment for acting in and part-writing to a lost play, The Isle of Dogs. But for that story, we shall soon come. Many a time, in the company of our dear friend William Drummond of Hawthornden, did Ben Jonson retell his tail of almost in loss of his life: “In my service in the Low Countries I had, in the face of both the camps, killed an enemy, and taken opima spolia [spoils from the enemy] wherein since my coming to England, being appealed to the fi elds, I had killed my adversary74 (a notorious fi re-eater who had shortly before killed one James Feeke in a similar squabble) which had hurt me in the arm and whose sword was ten inches longer than mine. I was duly arraigned, tried, and convicted; sent to Newgate prison and such goods and chattels as I had were forfeited. That I could read and write saved my life; and I received only a brand of the letter “T,” for Tyburn, on my left thumb. Prison walls turned me into a Roman Catholic; but returned to the faith of the Church of England soon after.”75 Not averse to talking of himself and his doings is my man John; in like manner he blows a trumpet that the Earl of Pembroke sends him £20 every fi rst day of the new year to buy new books. He lighteth well; blow till thou burst thy wind Ben Jonson, what a mad-cap art thou!

Francis Bacon Essay L. Of Studies. Studies serve for pastimes, for ornaments and for abilities. Their chief use for pastime is in privateness and retiring; for ornament is in discourse, and for ability is in judgement. For expert men can execute, but learned men are ﬁ ttest to judge or censure.

74 It is noted in Aubrey’s Brief Lives that the adversary was no other than “a Mr. Marlow, the poet, on Bunhill when coming from the Green-Curtain Play House.” In Linklater’s Ben Jonson and King James the adversary is Gabriel Spenser who joined the Admiral’s Company upon his release; he had been charged with piercing his sword through James Feeke’s right eye and killing him; a deadly scenario that will be imitated upon Kit Marlowe 75 (a) Ben Jonson: The Poetaster, 1892 (b) Francis Bacon: The Use of the Law.: “If one man kill another upon a sudden quarrel, this is manslaughter; for which the offender must die, except he can read; and if he can read, yet must he lose his goods and be burnt in the hand, but lose no lands.” Lochithea 51

To spend too much time in them is sloth, to use them too much for ornament is affectation: to make judgement wholly by their rules, is the humour of a Scholar. They perfect Nature, and are perfected by experience. Crafty men continue them, simple men admire them, wise men use them: for they teach not their own use, but that is a wisdom without them: and about them won by observation. Read not to contradict, nor to believe, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested: That is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read, but cursorily, and some few to be read wholly and with diligence and attention. Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man. And therefore if a man write little, he had need have a great memory, if he confer little, he had need have a present wit, and if he read little, he had need have much cunning, to seem to know that he doth not. Histories make men wise, Poets witty: the mathematics subtle, natural philosophy deep: moral grave, logic and rhetoric able to contend.

Let us not wander in generalities: with Titus Livius, Demosthenes, Homer and Caesar in my baggings and Cicero’s ﬂ oods of tears, that I cannot endure it,76 a long break from College arrives, as doth the plague.77 To home it is; father hath arranged a suit for Anthony whose enthusiasm is meagre; whose answer is of denial and whose manner is distressful: how may father arrange this suit! As Anthony and father beguiled their wits, I had great thoughts of adding an Aviary in this house where every meal shall be according to seasons; my table strewed with sweet herbs and ﬂ owers, which do refresh my spirits and memory.78 I remain shut up in the cells of my inventions which causeth to be represented to me, by wires, the motion of some planets, in fact as it is, without theories of orbs, &c. and it seems a strange and extravagant motion. One while, they move in spires forwards; another while they do unwind themselves in spires backwards: one while they make large circles, and lower: one while they move to the north, in their spires, another while to the south. Of

76 Marcus Tullius Cicero: Letters of Cicero 77 Daniel Defoe: History of the Plague in London, 1894.: “I lived about midway between Aldgate Church and Whitechapel Bars, on the left hand, or north side, of the street; and as the distem- per had not reached to that side of the city, our neighbourhood continued very easy. But at the other end of the town their consternation was very great; and the richer sort of people, especially the nobility and gentry from the west part of the city, thronged out of town, with their families and servants, in an unusual manner. And this was more particularly seen in Whitechapel; that is to say, the Broad Street where I lived. Indeed, nothing was to be seen but wagons and carts, with goods, women, servants, children, etc.; coaches fi lled with people of the better sort, and horsemen attending them, and all hurrying away; then empty wagons and carts appeared, and spare horses with servants, who it was apparent were returning, or sent from the country to fetch more people; besides innumerable numbers of men on horseback, some alone, others with servants, and, generally speaking, all loaded with baggage, and fi tted out for travelling, as any one might perceive by their appearance. This was a very terrible and melancholy thing to see, and as it was a sight which I could not but look on from morning to night (for indeed there was nothing else of moment to be seen), it fi lled me with very serious thoughts of the misery that was coming upon the city, and the unhappy condition of those that would be left in it.” 78 Aubrey’s Brief Lives 52 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals another, a secret curiosity of nature, whereby to know the season of every hour of the year, by a philosophical glass, placed (with a small proportion of water) in a chamber.79 On one of mine exits from York House, I stroll into the gardens with views of Old Father Thames and fi shermen drawing the river. I come thither by chance in the afternoon sun, and offer to buy their draught: they are willing. I ask them what they would take? They ask thirty shillings. I offer them ten. They refuse. “Why then,” I say, “I will be only a looker on.” They drew, and catch nothing. I then say: “Are not you mad fellows now, that might have had an angel in your purse, to have made merry withal, and to have warmed you thoroughly, and now you must go home with nothing.” The fi shermen turn to me and say: “Ay, but we had hope then to make a better gain of it.” I stir to a sound from the river: the wind rushing against the sides of sails, as children’s toys are set in motion and turned by the fi nger. I remembereth making several trials and experiments for increasing this motion, both as a token that the cause has been well discovered, and for present use; contriving imitations of the motion by means of paper sails and the wind from a pair of bellows. Accordingly, to the lower side of the sail I fastened an additional fold, turned away from the wind, that the wind being now directed from the side might have a larger surface to strike against but this did no good; for the extra fold did not so much assist the percussion of the wind, as it impeded the cutting of the air by the sails. At some distance behind the sails, and the whole breadth of their diameter, I placed obstacles that the wind being more compressed might strike with greater force; but this did more harm than good, as the repercussion deadened the primary motion. Again I made the sails double their former width, to compress the wind more, and make the lateral percussion stronger. This at last was completely successful, for the sails were turned with a much gentler blast, and revolved much faster.80,81 But to return to the fi shermen, I step closer to them: “Well, my masters, then I’ll tell you, hope is a good breakfast, but it is a bad supper.” In fi nal, holidays passeth and I return to College: Drowsy days pass till the festivities of the College surround us all. They begin to teach us to live when we have almost done living. A hundred students have got the pox before they have come to read Aristotle’s lecture on temperance. Cicero saith, that though he should live two men’s ages, he should never fi nd leisure to study the lyric poets; the boy we would breed has a great deal less time to spare; he owes but the fi rst fi fteen or sixteen years of his life to education; the remainder is due to action. Let us, therefore, employ that short time in necessary instruction away with the thorny subtleties of dialectics, they are abuses, things by which our lives can never be amended: take the plain philosophical discourses, learn how rightly to choose, and then rightly to apply them; they are more easy to be understood than one of Boccaccio’s novels; a child from nurse is much more capable of them, than of learning to read or to write. College: ’tis a real house of correction of imprisoned youth. They are made debauched, by being punished before they are so. Do but come in when they are about their lesson, and you shall hear nothing but the outcries of boys under execution, with the

79 Baconiana, 1679 80 Resuscitatio, 1661 81 Francis Bacon: The History of the Winds Lochithea 53 thundering noise of their pedagogues drunk with fury. A very pretty way this, to tempt these tender and timorous souls to love their book with a furious countenance, and a rod in hand! Philosophy has discourses proper for childhood, as well as for the decrepit age of men. Young men and old men derive hence a certain end to the mind, and stores for miserable grey hairs.82 Even good Homer sometimes nods.83 On a wintry day, at the age of fourteen, I drink the air before me, take my belongings, offer my bleak glance back at the Tower clock, and leave College without graduating; the words of Aurelius Augustine (354–430) belongeth here: “But why did I so much hate the Greek which I was taught as a boy? I do not yet fully know. For the Latin I loved; not what my fi rst masters, but what the grammarians taught me. For those fi rst lessons: reading, writing, and mathematics; I thought as great a burden and as vexatious as any Greek. But in the other lessons I learned the wanderings of Æneas, forgetful of my own, and wept for the dead Dido because she killed herself for love; while, with dry eyes, I endured my miserable self, die among these things, far from Thee, my God, my Life.”84 Why, then, did I hate the Greek classics, full of like fi ctions to those in Virgil? For Homer also curiously wove similar stories, and is most pleasant, yet was disagreeable to my boyish taste. In truth, the diffi culty of a foreign tongue dashed as with gall all the sweetness of the Greek fable. For not one word of it did I understand, and to make me learn I was urged vehemently with cruel threats and stripes. Yet I learned with delight the fi ctions in Latin concerning the wicked doings of Jove and Juno, and for this I was pronounced a helpful boy, being applauded above many of my own age and class. Upon the whole I conclude with this: a dog we know is better company than a man whose language we do not understand. I did fall into the dislike of the philosophy of Aristotle, not for the worthlessness of the author, to whom I would ever ascribe all high attributes, but for the unfruitfulness of the way, being a philosophy, only strong for disputations and contentions, but barren of the production of works for the benefi t of the life of man; who corrupted natural philosophy by his logic: fashioning the world out of categories assigning to the human soul, the noblest of substances, a genius from words of the second intention; doing the business of density and rarity (which is to make bodies of greater or less dimensions, that is, occupy greater or less spaces), by the frigid distinction of act and power; asserting that single bodies have each a single and proper motion, and that if they participate in any other, then his results from an external cause; and imposing countless other arbitrary restrictions on the nature of things; being always more solicitous to provide an answer to the question and affi rm something positive in words, than about the inner truth of things; a failing best shown when his philosophy is compared with other systems of note among the Greeks, in which my mind continueth to hold to this day.85 Again, if the insipidity of Aristotle be any proof of philosophical insight, it is no more than is experienced by every “freshman” at Oxford on his fi rst introduction to the

82 Derived from Michel Eyquem de Montaigne’s Essay Of the Education of Children, 1580 83 Horace Ars Poetica 359 84 The World’s Greatest Books, vol. ix 85 (a) William Rawley, D.D: The Life of Lord Bacon, 1657 (b) Francis Bacon’s Aphorisms lxiii 54 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

miserable Latin abstracts dignifi ed by the name of Aristotle; and with such only could I have been acquainted at that age.86 Time bringeth Christmas. Father, merely in disappointment; mother, methinks, frames particulars with father on the matter of Grandfather, Sir Anthony Cooke, who shall entertain her Majesty at his estates in Warwickshire, I hear. We are all to go; whereof a wedding shall be performed in honour of the Queen. On my knee, I give heaven thanks for Arden Forest of where I shall dissolve within philomantic87 paths beyond the banks of Avon.88 Every palace, every city almost hath its peculiar walks, cloisters, terraces, groves, theatres, pageants, games, and several recreations; every country, some professed gymnics to exhilarate their minds, and exercise their bodies. The Greeks had their Olympian, Pythian, Isthmian, Nemean games, in honour of Neptune, Jupiter, Apollo; Athens hers: some for honour, garlands, crowns; for beauty, dancing, running, leaping, like our silver games. The Romans had their feasts, as the Athenians, and Lacedaemonians held their public banquets, in Pritanaeo, Panathenaeis, Thesperiis, Phiditiis, plays, naumachies, places for sea-fi ghts, theatres, amphitheatres able to contain seventy thousand men, wherein they had several delightsome shows to exhilarate the people; gladiators, combats of men with themselves, with wild beasts, and wild beasts one with another, like our bull-baitings, or bear-baitings (in which many countrymen and citizens amongst us so much delight and so frequently use), dancers on ropes. Jugglers, wrestlers, comedies, tragedies, publicly exhibited at the emperor’s and city’s charge, and that with incredible cost and magnifi cence. In Italy they have solemn declamations of certain select young gentlemen in Florence (like those reciters in old Rome), and public theatres in most of their cities, for stage- players and others, to exercise and recreate themselves. All seasons almost, all places, have their several pastimes; some in summer, some in winter; some abroad, some within: some of the body, some of the mind: and diverse men have diverse recreations and exercises. Domitian, the Emperor, was much delighted with catching fl ies; Augustus to play with nuts amongst children; Alexander Severus was often pleased to play with whelps and young pigs. Adrian was so wholly enamoured with dogs and horses, that he bestowed monuments and tombs of them, and buried them in graves. In foul weather, or when they can use no other convenient sports, by reason of the time, as we do cock-fi ghting, to avoid idleness, methinks, (though some be more seriously taken with it, spend much time, cost and charges, and are too solicitous about it.) Severus used partridges and quails, as many Frenchmen do still, and to keep birds in cages, with which he was much pleased, when at any time he had leisure from public cares and businesses. He had tame pheasants, ducks, partridges, peacocks, and some twenty thousand ring-doves and pigeons. Busbequius, the

86 (a) William Rawley, D.D: The Life of Lord Bacon with notes, 1679 (b) George Otto Trevelyan: Life and Letters of Lord Macaulay, 1876: “There are men here who are mere mathematical blocks; who plod on their eight hours a day to the honours of the Senate House; who leave the groves which witnessed the musings of Milton, of Bacon, and of Gray, without one liberal idea or elegant image, and carry with them into the world minds contracted by unmingled attention to one part of science, and memories stored only with technicalities.” 87 Coined from philomancy: a divination from the rustling of leaves 88 Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) Lochithea 55

Emperor’s orator, when he lay in Constantinople, and could not stir much abroad, kept for his recreation, busying himself to see them fed, almost all manner of strange birds and beasts; this was something, though not to exercise his body, yet to refresh his mind. Conradus Gesner, at Zurich in Switzerland, kept so likewise for his pleasure, a great company of wild beasts; and took great delight to see them eat their meat. Turkey gentlewomen, that are perpetual prisoners, still mewed up according to the custom of the place, have little else beside their household business, or to play with their children to drive away time, but to dally with their cats, which they have in delitiis, as many of our ladies and gentlewomen use monkeys and little dogs. The ordinary recreations which we have in winter, and in most solitary times busy our minds with, are cards, tables and dice, shovelboard, chess-play, the philosopher’s game, small trunks, shuttlecock, billiards, music, masks, singing, dancing, Yule-games, frolics, jests, riddles, catches, purposes, questions and commands, merry tales of errant knights, queens, lovers, lords, ladies, giants, dwarfs, thieves, cheaters, witches, fairies, goblins, friars, &c., such as the old woman told Psyche in Apuleius, Boccace novels, and the rest, which some delight to hear, some to tell; all are well pleased with. Amaranthus, the philosopher, met Hermocles, Diophantus and Philolaus, his companions, one day busily discoursing about Epicurus and Democritus’ tenets, very solicitous which was most probable and came nearest to truth: to put them out of that surly controversy, and to refresh their spirits, he told them a pleasant tale of Stratocles the physician’s wedding, and of all the particulars, the company, the cheer, the music, &c., for he was new come from it; with which relation they were so much delighted, that Philolaus wished a blessing to his heart, and many a good wedding, many such merry meetings might he be at, to please himself with sight, and others with the narration of it.89 Fabulations! I am a citizen, not of Athens or Greece, but of the world, so said Socrates; or, a citizen of a British Empire, so saith Dr. Dee. I am fi fteen: the fl avour of freedom drips from my ruffs; the city of London awaits: I attend performances at an abandoned monastery in the Black-Friars locale where a children’s company performs around a pit that is roofed for protection. Upstream of Old Father Thames, to the market, and my bowels devour handfuls of fruit. “Lack ye?” Our shopkeeper hails. “Mine fruit best in England!” Further on, my nostrils settle on aromas of bread; a small bakery, seven ovens and each oven baketh a different kind of tasteful one-penny loaf. Addicted so and so, my belly protrudes like a camel’s hump by the hour of my midday meal on passing the gates; Wiffl ers, as of clearing the way for a procession, make my way through. But, wit, whither wilt thou? On my return to York House, mother fusses: “Your cap, Franciscus; remove it! Cancel that peculiar expression from your mucky face. We have a visitor.” “Who?” “Sir Amias Paulet arriveth this afternoon with the company of your father and Sir Walsingham.” She lowers her voice. “Sir Paulet I need not remind you is the Queen’s Ambassador to France and Sir Walsingham …” mother hesitates, “I wish you keep distance from Sir Walsingham.” “Why? He is only England’s spymaster!”

89 Robert Burton: The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1653 56 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

If you desire dear Reader, follow me in the private offi ces of my father’s study: we encounter this trickle of a man, Sir Amias Paulet, pale skin, netted with teeny wrinkles around his small black eyes. He seems almost too bony for the dead. I see France, Italy, or Spain, have not taken into use beer or ale; which, perhaps, if they did, would better both their healths and their complexions. “Ah!” He doth exclaim on my sight, “’tis the secret wonder of Lord Bacon.” His voice vaults on delightful tunes; I am immediately smitten by his speech in French that drips over his tongue; his Latin seals on its antediluvian roots; his Greek pierces souls by cherubim’s arrows. Tempt I go on, you would need go shake your ears, for this man’s tongue is attractive. He is attractive; I cannot say how, but I be seduced! I knew, from that moment on, that I would one day fl ow notes to man’s ear as this man so now does: “Lord Bacon sees fi t to frame and mould you for the Arts of State, young Mr. Bacon.” Father fi dgets with discomfort. “Indeed. Come June, he shall be admitted de societate magistrorum at Gray’s Inn.90 My set of chambers at the Inn shall do well.” Sir Paulet trickles down a laugh. “Ye Gray’s, or if you better like the name of old Purpulii Britains;91 your son shall be appointed by her Majesty to sail upon the Dread- nought captained by George Bristowe92 toward France. I shall accompany him and we shall spend some years in the Court of Henri Trois.” Sir Paulet speculates me a devious glance. “Do you wisely claim this continuance, young Mr. Bacon?” Do I wisely claim this continuance? I am ecstatic in so much ecstaticism that I bring up wind; the fruit and loaf of bread, from oven seven, are rising to what is sealed for my future. But what lights come yonder? The Dread-nought Argo, cuts the foaming surge, through dangers great, to get the golden prize, so when our sleves, necessity doth urge, we should avoid ignoble cowardize, and undertake with pleasure, any pain, whereby we might our wealth, or honour gain. For all in vain, our parts we keep within, unless we act, or put the same in err: or hope hereafter, Fame our friend to win, if can no labour, constantly endure: which from above, is with abundane blest, when slothfull weighes, by nature we detest. In actione consistit. Sir Walsingham hath remained silent during this time: he turns to me with authority. “What could the belly answer? You should take with you on this journey one object only. A burning-glass.”93 All silent in the generalities that he would continue with reason; he doth not.

90 (a) Lord Campbell: The Life of Lord Bacon, 1853 (b) Lyon and Block’s Edward Coke Oracle of the Law, 1929: The Inns of Court being four London law Colleges were, Gray’s Inn, the Middle Temple, the Inner Temple, and Lincoln’s Inn; Barnard’s Inn and Staple Inn were connected with Gray’s 91 (a) Francis Davison: Poetical Rhapsody, 1602; (b) Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 authorises that “Purpulii alias Portpoole is the name of the manor in which Gray’s Inn was situated. This manor belonged to the family of the Gray’s from Edward I., until the reign of Henry VII.”—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) 92 As given in the Acts of Privy Council, 1676 93 William Godwin: Exercise of Magical Power, 1834: “Roger Bacon was profound in the science of optics. He explained the nature of burning-glasses, and of glasses, which magnify and diminish, the microscope and the telescope. He discovered the composition of gunpowder. He ascertained Lochithea 57

My father chuckles. “Well, there are more earthly objects to take on a journey over the seas, Sir Walsingham.” Sir Walsingham peers over his white riffs: “I once hindered a conspiracy to kill Queen Mary, sister to Elizabeth, by a burning-glass when she walked in St. James’s park, from the leads of the house.” Mother stares at him in astonishment as he continues: “Burning- glasses are able to burn a navy, the percussion of the air alone, by such a burning-glass, would make no noise; no more than is found in coruscations and lightnings without thunders.”94 He empties his wine glass. “Pirates would also be hindered.” Sir Walsingham leaves considerable worry on mother regarding this journey yet it cannot be misplaced of Benvenuto’s95 account in the French Court that I giveth thus: “The French King received me graciously, and I presented him with a cup and basin which I had executed for his Majesty, who declared that neither the ancients nor the greatest masters of Italy had ever worked in so exquisite a taste. His Majesty ordered me to make him twelve silver statues. They were to be fi gures of six gods and six goddesses, made exactly to his own height, which was very little less than three cubits. I began zealously to make a model of Jupiter. Next day I showed him in his palace the model of my great saltcellar, which he called a noble production, and commissioned me to make it in gold, commanding that I should be given directly a thousand old gold crowns, good weight. As a mark of distinction, the King granted me letters of naturalisation and a patent of Lordship of the Castle of Nesle. Later, I submitted to the King models of the new palace gates and the great fountain for Fontainebleau, which appeared to him to be exceedingly beautiful. Unluckily for me, his favourite, Madame d’Estampes, conceived a deep resentment at my neglect for not taking notice of her in any of my designs. When the silver statue of Jupiter was fi nished and set up in the corridor of Fontainebleau, alongside reproductions in bronze of all the fi rst rate antiques recently discovered in Rome, the King cried out: “This is one of the fi nest productions of art that was ever beheld; I could never have conceived a piece of work the hundredth part so beautiful. From a comparison with these admirable antique fi gures, it is evident that this statue of Jupiter is vastly superior to them.” Madame d’Estampes was more highly incensed than ever, but the King said I was one of the ablest men the world had ever produced. The King ordered me a thousand crowns, partly as a recompense for my labours, and partly in payment of some disbursed by myself. I afterwards set about fi nishing my colossal statue of Mars, which was to occupy the centre of the fountain at Fontainebleau, and represented the King. Madame d’Estampes continuing her spiteful artifi ces, I requested the Cardinal of Ferrara to procure leave for me to make a tour to Italy, promising to return whenever the King should think proper to signify his pleasure. I departed in an unlucky hour, leaving under the care of my journeymen my castle and all my effects; but all the way I could not refrain from sighing and weeping. At this time Cosmo, Duke of Florence, resided at Poggio Cajano, a place ten miles from

the true length of the solar year; and his theory was afterwards brought into general use, but upon a narrow scale, by Pope Gregory XIII., nearly three hundred years after his death.” 94 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century ii. (121) 95 Benvenuto Cellini (1500–1569) a great craftsman during the height of the Renaissance period 58 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Florence. I there waited upon him to pay my respects, and he and his Duchess received me with the greatest kindness. At the Duke’s request I undertook to make a great statue of Perseus delivering Andromeda from the Medusa. A site was found for me to erect a house in which I might set up my furnaces, and carry on a variety of works both of clay and bronze, and of gold and silver separately. While making progress with my great statue of Perseus, I executed my golden vases, girdles, and other jewels for the Duchess of Florence, and also a likeness of the Duke larger than life. For a time I discontinued working upon marble statues and went on with Perseus, and eventually I triumphed over all the diffi culties of casting it in bronze, although the shop took fi re at the critical moment, and the sky poured in so much rain and wind that my furnace was cooled. I was so highly pleased that my work had succeeded so well that I went to Pisa to pay my respects to the Duke, who received me in the most gracious manner, while the Duchess vied with him in kindness to me.”96 Sir Walsingham leaveth me with the taste for honey. After his third glass of wine, he turns to Sir Paulet: “Is it true, Sir, that in France, the nouâr l’eguillette is performed?” Mother stands; her gesture knocks the chair from behind her. She grabs at my arm and hurls me from the room. Upon the whole I conclude that Sir Walsingham was wont to say, “Madam, stay a while, that we may make an end the sooner.” Sir Paulet was wont to say as much when he saw too much hast made in any matter. It was not till my travel and visit to Gascony, that I discover the reason for mother’s action: the nouâr l’eguillette is performed in Zant and Gascony and is very ordinary to make men impotent to accompany with their wives. It is practised always upon the wedding-day. And in Zant the mothers themselves do it, by way of prevention; because thereby they hinder other charms, and can undo their own. It is a thing the Civil Law takes knowledge of; and therefore is of no light regard.97 Methinks, wherefore mother did cloak the matter from me being thus: Grandfather, Sir Anthony Cooke, Knight, a man of seventy years of age, of grave severity, and manifold learning, having been School-Master to King Edward VI., in his childhood; a man happy in his daughters, whom having brought in learning of Greek and Latin above their sex, and married to men of great note, hath passed away. To the Law Monster: I settle into Gray’s Inn: a quadrangle area situated near the hall of the Inn, where my lodgings be set. First fl oor library, lecture rooms, galleries and discipline dressing of hats and gowns: no weapons allowed.98 Of the same time, I will boldly publish that her Majesty, for the rectory of Walkington in the diocese of York, hath chosen Robert Greene and invests in him as rector with aforesaid will and rights and privileges.99 As little by such toys, it is a strange thing, that in sea-voyages, where there is nothing to be seen but sky and sea, men should make diaries; but in land-travel, wherein so much is to be observed, for the most part they omit it: as if chance were fi tter to be registered than observation. Let diaries therefore be brought in use. The things to be seen and observed are: the Courts of Princes, especially when they give audience to Ambassadors: the Courts of

96 The World’s Greatest Books, vol ix 97 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, century ix. (888) 98 Daphne du Maurier: Golden Lads, 1975 99 Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) Lochithea 59

Justice, while they sit and hear causes: and so of consistories ecclesiastic: the churches and monasteries, with the monuments which are therein extant: the walls and fortifi cations of cities and towns, and so the havens and harbours: antiquities and ruins; libraries, colleges, disputations, and lectures, where any are; shipping and navies: houses, and gardens of state and pleasure near great cities; armouries, arsenals, magazines, exchanges, burses, ware- houses; exercises of horsemanship, fencing, training of soldiers and the like; comedies, such whereunto the better sort of persons do resort; treasuries of jewels and robes, cabinets and rarities: and to conclude, whatsoever is memorable in the place where they go. As for triumphs, masks, feasts, weddings, funerals, capital executions, and such shews, men need not so be put in mind of them; yet they are not to be neglected.100 As for the journey at sea, I have seen all the battles of the winds meet together in the air.101 Our ship had four and sometimes fi ve masts; all standing erect one behind the other in a straight line drawn through the centre of the vessel. These masts were rigged with ten sails, and when the mizenmast is double, with twelve. All sails swollen by the wind become arched at the bottom, so that much of the wind must necessarily miss them. All wind in the sails somewhat weighs down and sinks the ship; and this the more, as the wind comes more from above. And this is the reason why in heavy storms they fi rst lower the yards, and furl the topsails; and then, it is necessary they take down all the rest, cut down the masts themselves, and throw overboard their cargo, guns, &c., to lighten the ship, that she may fl oat and follow the motion of the waves.102 Honey France: different from Frenchmen, who wont be as stinging bees; or of the humming of bees, an unequal buzzing, and is conceived by some of the ancients not to come forth at their mouth, but to be an inward sound; but (it may be) it is neither; but from the motion of their wings: for it is not heard by when they stir;103 or that they are like the ant; they only collect and use: like reasoners who resemble spiders, who make cobwebs out of their own substance. But the bee takes a middle course; it gathers its material from the fl owers of the garden and of the fi eld, but transforms and digests it by a power of its own.104 Not unlike this doeth Bernard Palissy’s lectures attract on many subjects of which interest to me is mineralogy,105 and of a strange Frenchman, Guillaume Postel who liveth nearly 120 years; the top of his moustache being still black, and not at all grey; a man of

100 Francis Bacon’s Essay xviii Of Travel 101 Virgil 102 Francis Bacon: History of the Winds 103 “That the humming sound emitted by many insects is not due to the motion of their wings, appears according to Burmeister’s experiments to be certain, as it continues after the wings are cut off, though with a change of note. His theory is that is caused merely by breathing through the thoracic air-holes as the insect does when on the wing-the breathing going on silently while it is at rest through the abdominal air-holes. V. Taylor, Scientiﬁ c Memoirs, i. 377.”—James Spedding 104 Francis Bacon: Aphorisms xcv 105 Bernard Palissy (1510–1589) a distinguished French potter who discovered, through experi- mentalism, white enamel; he set up a porcelain factory in Paris which was patronised by Royalty—See Markku Peltonen: The Cambridge Companion to Bacon, 1996 60 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals disordered brain and unsound mind, a great traveller and mathematician, and somewhat tainted with heresy.106 All I did see, all I did digest and all I did enjoy; love festivities at Nérac, with Catherine de Medici and Marguerite de Navarre’s entourage upon St. Luke’s feast day; a day that gives birth to my dearest Tobie Matthew:107

To St. Luke By Tobias Matthew108 When thou by glorious death didst ﬁ rst begin to make thy soul, shake of her shirt of clay mine was infused,109 and on the self same day Bound prentice to the bankrout trade of sin Thou seest the sick estate that it lies in as foul as rust, as angry as a pray as idle as the gout, and given to play with cheaters, who procure my rest to win Although a Saint thou a physician art I wish thee but to keep thy hand in err in heaven there is no practise of thy art but if thou wilt vouchsafe my soul to cure though I am poor, yet he that died for me is able, and I know will pay thy fee

The delight of these festivities are carefully chaperoned by the Royal Court, for over indulging organisers lay the laws of nature at its peril. Though I can do little to claim the beauty of Nérac and ﬂ atter you Reader, I can tell you of the passionate escapades to gratify curiosities; or possibly of the cool moonlight strolls that end betwixt maiden thighs or

106 (a) Francis Bacon: The History of Life and death (b) Spedding: Works, vol iii p. 323: “Bacon’s description of Postellus seems to show that while he was in France he had met with that singular and unhappy man. What is said of this great age rests probably on no better authority than his own: there seems no good reason to believe that he was much more than seventy when he died, though Bacon afﬁ rms that he was nearly a hundred and twenty. It would be quite in accordance with what we know of Postellus to suppose that he made himself much older than he really was in order to increase the wonder with which he was regarded. This kind of deception is not unfrequent, and it will, generally speaking, be more or less successful. The love of marvels and the sweetness of life incline men to believe in stories of extreme longevity, and when a man has grown old he meets but few who know when he was born.” 107 Tobie Matthew (1577–1655) diplomat, priest, man of letters, art connoisseur and dear friend to Lord Bacon and George Cage who was born in 1582, and to whom Tobie had introduced Lord Bacon and held each other in esteem 108 Anthony G. Petti: Unknown Sonnets by Sir Toby Matthew, vol. ii. ff. 88–95 published in 1659 109 Baptised Lochithea 61

’gainst a Gentleman’s bosomy hill; and though I do not desire you drink to taste, I do desire you read to see. Engaged in thus capacity and manner, I become acquainted with Thomas Hobbes, who confesses he see as my amanuensis Herbert of Cherbury and my man John.110 It may well appear, within the month, my brief return to England is of need. A letter from Sir Amias Paulet arriveth two days after my arrival at York House. My father reads me his letter in his study: “I rejoice much to see that your son, my companion, hath by the grace of God passed the brunt and peril of his journey; whereof I am the more glad because in the beginning of these last troubles it pleased your Lordship to refer his continuance with me to my consideration. I thank God these dangers are past, and your son is safe, sound, and in good health, and worthy or your fatherly favour.” Father folds the letter. “You are much favoured in French eyes, Franciscus. Hard thoughts on your return.” The matter halts, and the only sparks I seeth are from the Dread- nought once more upon the like manner Sea Lung and salt water that sparkle by night as struck violently by oars.111 It is strange how men, like owls, see sharply in the darkness of their own notions, but in the daylight of experience wink and are blinded. The stars wink against mine stolen winds; free winds bloweth none violently; extreme cold I observeth, and ask an intelligent merchant who had carried out a colony to Newfoundland and passed the winter there why that country was reputed so extremely cold where the latitude was suffi ciently mild. “It is not quite so bad as is reported, but that the reasons are two: the one, that icebergs are bought down by the current of the Arctic Sea close beside those shores; the other” (which he considered the more important), “that the west wind blows there for a much greater part of the year than the east; which is like wise the case (said he) in England; but then in Newfoundland it blows cold from the continent, here it comes warm from the sea. Now if,” he continued, “the east wind blew as long and as frequently in England as the west wind blows in Newfoundland, the cold here would be far more intense, and equal to what it is there.” With my arrival to France, I begin an experiment of wind in a round tower that is completely shut up on every side. A chafi ng dish of coals thoroughly ignited so that there might be no smoke is placed in the middle of the room. At one side of this, but at some distance from it, I suspend a thread, with a cross of feathers fastened to it to make it more susceptible of motion. After a short time therefore, when the heat had increased and the air dilated, the cross of feathers with its thread began to wave about, fi rst to one side and then to the other. And further, when a hole was made in the window of the tower, a warm gust of air passed out, not continuous, but intermittent, and in undulating currents.112 On return to my chambers, the candlelight blinks over a temple of books; an enormous number of parcels and bundles of manuscripts range along walls up to the ceiling. The spiral wooden staircase gives access to an upper level of bookshelves and bookcases where a chime strikes the hour. The area is narrow spaced and deserted. I approach the banister,

110 J.W. Cousins: A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature, 1910 111 (a) Lord Campbell: The Life of Lord Bacon, 1853 (b) Francis Bacon: Aphorisms x 112 Francis Bacon: The History of the Winds 62 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals peek over, quickly pull back glancing over my shoulder at the bookshelves. In front of the bookshelves my ﬁ nger roams along the leather-bounded book spines. A title, A Complete System of Cryptography writ by Gustavus Selenus; I drink and become intoxicated by the preface:

A Complete System of Cryptography By Gustavus Selenus113 I herewith put before you, kind reader, my System of Cryptography, complete, so far as I have been able to make it so, and, as I hope, perfect in all its parts. Quite beyond my expectations is it that the matter has been brought to this point, for in the beginning I had no other thought than to make an elucidation of the Steganographia, which was published, under the cloak of magic, by Johannes Trithemius, Abbot, fi rst of Spanheim. This work, certainly a long and suffi ciently involved composition, and one also which is wrapped from beginning to end in a perfect cloud of uncertainty, I still present to the reader in the Third Book, in an Elucidation which is short, clear, and unclouded by obscurities. With regard to this subject, as being the most important part of Cryptography, or the fi rst object of my enquiry, I shall make a few introductory remarks, requesting that you consider, what I shall say on this matter, is also for the most part said with reference to the whole art. Now when I fi rst turned my attention in this direction, this Elucidation cost me the most severe and persistent mental application through a number of years, as also no small expenditure of strength. For I found myself in need of guidance in a veritable labyrinth of Daedalus, or of the Minotaur, that is, of imaginary spirits, and this fact, more than the enigmatic incantations, caused me inextricable trouble. But all this I gladly went through, for the public behoof and the reader’s good. For I saw that, by this work of mine, other men’s thoughts on this subject,—thoughts, most ingenious, which this generation, which is fatally bent on producing all subjects, even the most abstruse, has presented to the public in writing,—were also, either illustrated, or at least enriched by no slight accession. And the reader also may now, without loss of time, which before he had to expend with practically no result, learn by him self, with only a slight amount of labour, the principle of writing hiddenly, or the method of investigating, learning, or interpreting documents so written by adversaries or enemies. But beware of trying to fi nd in the Steganographia of our Abbot, or of thinking that you must therein look for, more mystery, on the basis of the enigmatic signs, than is here set forth. For I promise, by the strength of my feeble intellect, and other agencies whereby I have arrived at a thorough understanding of the inner secrets of this matter, that you will spend your labour and your oil in vain. If you observe this caution, you will not only rightly enjoy the fruit of my toil, but you will also desist from suspecting things uncanny, that is, magical, of our Abbot. For the rest, let no one impose upon you with the statement that,—a charge which may possibly be brought against me,—I in this Elucidation approach a subject that is quite illicit; because, in the fi rst place, it is with design that this art is so hidden, obscure, and involved, and

113 Gustavus Selenus: Complete System of Cryptography translated from Latin by Dr. John W. H. Walden—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) Lochithea 63 because, secondly, our Abbot furthermore so severely forbade anyone, who should chance by Divine favour to receive enlightenment on the subject, to betray and disclose those Eleusimian rites; enforcing his commands most strenuously with curses,—on the chance that his orders might perhaps not prove valid after his death or might themselves cease to exist,—and even endeavouring, by a dire and unholy imprecation, to deter any soul from revealing secrets of this kind. For, granting that this was the design of our author in concealing; granting that it was the design of Heraclitus, who is said always to have had on his tongue the words Κόπσων, Κόπσων: [involve in shadow, make obscure]: granting that it was the design of Plato, Aristotle, and other philosophers, earlier and later; granting that it was the design of the ancient jurisconsults; granting, I say, that this was their design, to prevent the contents of their writings from becoming generally known; still, it did not the less rebound to the glory of Cneus Flavius, the scribe of Appius Claudius, that he made known to the Roman people the actions at Law, which Appius had reduced to form and kept under the seal of the most inviolable secrecy; Pomponius, in l.2, de Orig. Jur. Again, the Emperor Justinian determined absolutely to do away with the sigla and bigla, wherewith the jurisconsults endeavoured to render their study of Law a secret to all but themselves. Who does not owe a debt of gratitude to Flaxinius and the other commentators for having remarked on the cryptology or study of secrecy, noticed in the Acroamatica of the Philosopher, and also for having lifted the cloud there from and pointed out to us the light? And no one, I think, bears aught of spite toward Neldelius because he has disclosed the Aristotelian process, and has shown not only the fact, but also the method whereby, Aristotle has, beneath the apodeictic syllogism, most artfully concealed, for every department of learning, the didascalic syllogisms. If some one could skilfully remove for us from Plato’s Republic, which is enwrapped in the mysteries of numbers, the outer covering, and lay the work plainly before us, no one, I suppose, would fi nd fault with what was done, as though it were done illicitly. Now, as regards our author, you may be more than fully convinced that he is not carrying on a serious piece of business. Take as a proof the plan of the whole treatise, which, it is certain, is composed, from beginning to end, of one long intellectual jest, which, however, is artfully hidden and, as will appear very clearly from the explanation which I have prefi xed, in Bk. III.c.1, to the Steganographia, enveloped in matter that offers a pretence of seriousness. More than this, the author even him self constructed keys, as they are called, whereby to unlock the secret of this matter, and then communicated the same, thus constructed, to the Kloster fi rst of all; and afterwards they were communicated to others, and were by these, before being explained to me, made, though in a slovenly fashion, generally known. With such assistance, it would not have been so very laborious a task for a skilful person to discover and understand both the Modes themselves and the principles of the Modes, if the author had only at all times been consistent with him self, and had not, as was the case, often a second time obscured in a cloud of digressions and transpositions what he had once made clear; or if the copies themselves, both manuscript and printed, had, as is not the case, agreed with the autograph. All these diffi culties, however, I have, as I have just now intimated, surmounted in the reader’s interest. Now, further, there is no argument of any weight whereby I should be forbidden to disclose these matters. For, if, notwithstanding the fact that there was reason to fear that Hariadenus Abenobarbus or some other pirate and freebooter captain would 64 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals make use of this or that stratagem of war, still Vegetius, Sextus Frontimus, Johann Jacobi von Wallhausen, and others were permitted to collect from all sources stratagems of war, and publicly set forth the same, for others to imitate, why should it be turned to my discredit that, to provide for an indispensable want, I publish, for the use of good men, things of like nature,—for there is something in common between this matter and the war-like inventions to which I have referred;—although some evilly-engaged persons may at some time turn the same to their own account. Thus, as we have it in Boccacio’s Tales, Guiscarde and Ghismonda, both very clever in this direction, were able to compose love letters in hidden wise, and thereby bring to fruition their illicit love. On this subject we have the verses of Filippe Beroalde: What thoughts does not Love have? A woman invents the way of deception, and herself composed the secret signs. The letter is hidden by stealth in a reed out open, and this the fair one gives to her lover’s own hand. Shrewd, the lover believes the reed not given for naught, and fi nds and scans the signs there hidden. O’erjoyed is he, and praises the way that a woman shows, awaiting the rapture of love’s promised fruition. Writings tell the time or place when stealthy Love can join the lovers fond in love’s embrace. Who would for this reason begrudge to some faithful Achates this art, whereby he might warn his friend of a threatening danger, or, if the latter were confi ned in prison or in any other way embarrassed, suggest to him, unbeknown to all others, some secret piece of advice? As, even though he broke the oath whereby he had promised silence, Demetrius Polierestes, making use of some writing of this kind, or at least of a writing not entirely unlike this, conducted himself toward Mithridates; Plutarch, In Demet. Pol. Abuse certainly ought not to raise any prejudice against correct use. This much being clear, I also do not wish, kind reader, to abuse your leisure,—provided I shall have impressed upon you, to some slight extent, the value of this art. For though to some this whole subject may seem the invention of an idle man and even childish trifl ing, contributing neither to private nor to public utility, still, let one be as sensible in his own person as he may, if he will not or cannot understand the importance that there is, especially in war times and at other times of stress, in this safe method of conveying a secret, he will, in his sagacity, judge that there is little sense in the art, and to himself absolutely no need thereof. Hereof I with reason refrain from making further words, since the matter is of itself suffi ciently clear. Now there will be no reason to fear this: that, namely, by the present Elucidation, I shall my self quite destroy this value belonging to the art, or render the practice of the art useless, for the reason that, if the principle of concealment here given should come to the knowledge of my enemy or of the one from whom I wish my secrets to remain hidden, the secret could, to such person, if he were thoroughly to read this present work of mine, no longer be anything but perfectly evident. For, granting that such may sometimes be the result, I nevertheless answer: This was not my aim, nor could it be,—to record and bring to light all the Modes of hidden writing, without exception; but I was engaged with the general classes only, according to the method and plan of our author; not with the idea that students of this art should stop there, but that they might, after gaining a thorough insight and understanding of these, advance, and learn to vary these general Modes by wondrous other Modes, and from those to construct at will new ones known to themselves alone. And not only is this not a diffi cult thing to do, but it might easily be the case that even Trithemius him self, if he were alive, would be unable in any way to gather, from such a new and, so to speak, conventional, or arbitrarily selected Mode of secret writing, any sense at all; Lochithea 65 and thus it would happen that the artist would be quite put to shame by his own pupil, in his own art. But, on the other hand, I have not allowed this Elucidation to go forth in fragmentary form, like a limb, which, though most elegantly clothed, is nevertheless rent from the body. For I have at the same time produced the whole body, and have shown the links whereby Steganography is skilfully joined to the other links of Cryptomenytics and Cryptography; and, taking advantage of the opening here offered, I have made my way into this citadel and inner sanctuary of the whole art of signifying a thing hiddenly to another,—whether with good auspices, I leave, reader, to your judgment, on condition, however, that if your judgment prove unfavourable, I shall not be kept from defending my cause. Certainly, if I do not meet with gratitude elsewhere, I shall nevertheless meet with it at your hands, because from the more elegant authors, whose works either have not been printed at all or, if they have been, either no longer exist in printed copies or are diffi cult to obtain, I have taken all the more subtle devices, which wondrously set off this art, and, introducing them throughout my work, have also enlarged their number by methods of my own. Now, then, farewell, and look to have from my library at an early day things, God helping, of better kind.114

Through the following hours my eyes drink from the printed words; my brain forms with cryptic systems, like an ancient Egyptian pyramid with its thorny bookshelves under a low-pitched roof. Through the glass, a purple coloured sky crackles with lightning. Crinkled shadows over my willowy frame, and I slump deeper into the chair. A sudden breeze fl ips the pages through the open book on my lap. Thunderclaps. I look up to see the ceiling; it cracks from side to side; I see the walls of my father’s country house in Gorhambury, near St Albans, plastered over with black mortar;115,116 and then, a thick volume shoots down from a bookshelf. I vault from my seat, my heart races, my eyes swell with tears: I had been in a dream. O touch me not for my father is deceased. Come, Gaveston, and share the Kingdom with thy dearest friend. Ah, words that make me surfeit with delight! What greater bliss can hap to Gaveston than live and be the favourite of a King! Sweet Prince, I come! These, thy amorous lines might have enforced me to have swum from France, and, like Leander, gasped upon the sand, so thou wouldst smile, and take me in thine arms. The sight of London to my exiled eyes is as Elysium to a new-come soul: not that I love the city or the men, but that it harbours him I hold so dear, the King, upon whose bosom let me lie, and with the world be still at enmity. What need the arctic people love starlight, to whom the sun shines both by day and night? Farewell base stooping to the lordly peers! My knee shall bow to none but to the King. As for the multitude, that are but sparks, raked up in embers of their poverty, I’ll fawn fi rst on the wind that glanceth at my lips, and fl ieth away.117

114 From the Hitsacker Museum, in the year of our restored Salvation, 1624, 27 February 115 Alfred Dodd: Francis Bacon’s Personal Life Story, 1946 116 Ben Jonson had a similar premonition of his son’s death in 1603 while staying at Sir Robert Cotton’s house in Huntingdonshire—See Eric Linklater’s Ben Jonson and King James, 1972 117 Christopher Marlowe: Edward II. 66 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

At York House, white snowy ﬂ akes execute doom into father’s chambers; the barber beside him trembles from freezed wind; an eclipse is not seen and is hidden behind the clouds.118 “Your Grace, I shall be marbled; my ﬁ ngers refuse to rub and comb thy hair.” “’Tis hot, man! What would you do?” “Weak mercy, thy Grace; I departeth!” Upon the barber’s return, he sees that the old Lord Keeper has fallen asleep, and awakens him, all distempered and in great sweat. “Why did you let me sleep?” “Why, my Lord, I durst not wake your Lordship.” “Why then, you have killed me with kindness. By heaven! You have killed me, my friends, and not saved me; my delights and pleasing error by my returning sense are taken from me.”119

Francis Bacon Essay VII. Of Parents and Children. The joys of parents are secret; and so are their griefs and fears. They cannot utter the one; nor they will not utter the other. Children sweeten labours; but they make misfortunes more bitter. They increase the cares of life; but they mitigate the remembrance of death. The perpetuity by generation is common to beasts; but memory, merit, and noble works, are proper to men. And surely a man shall see the noblest works and foundations have proceeded from childless men; which have sought to express the images of their minds, where those of their bodies have failed. So the care of posterity is most in them that have no posterity. They that are the ﬁ rst raisers of their houses are most indulgent towards their children; beholding them as the continuance not only of their kind but of their work; and so both children and creatures. The difference in affection of parents towards their several children is many times unequal; and sometimes unworthy; especially in the mother; as Salomon saith, A wise son rejoiceth the father, but an ungracious son shames the mother.120 A man shall see, where there is a house full of children, one or two of the eldest respected, and the youngest made wantons; but in the midst some that are as it were forgotten, who may times nevertheless prove the best. The illiberality of parents in allowance towards their children is an harmful error;

118 See Stowe’s Chronicle and Fenton’s Diaries of John Dee, of the foul weather in London during this period; I allow the reader to draw conclusions of the weather conditions, since Lord Bacon has noted to us in his Apophthegms that it was very warm weather when this unfortunate incident occurred 119 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 120 Prov. x. 1.: A wise son makes a glad father, but a foolish son is the heaviness of his mother. In Francis Bacon’s De Augmentis, book viii p. 243–244: “Here are distinguished the domestic comforts and tribulations of a father and mother respectively, touching their children. For a wise and prudent son is of most comfort to the father, who knows the value of virtue better than the mother, and accordingly has more joy in the virtuous inclination of his son; he may feel a satisfaction also in the course he has pursued, whereby he has brought up his son so well and implanted sound morality in him by precept and example. But the mother has most sorrow and discomfort at the ill fortune of her son, both because the affection of a mother is more gentle and tender, and because she is conscious perhaps that she has spoiled and corrupted him by her indulgence.” Lochithea 67 makes them base; acquaints them with shifts; makes them sort with mean company; and makes them surfeit more when they come to plenty. And therefore the proof is best, when men keep their authority towards their children, but not their purse. Men have a foolish manner (both parents and schoolmasters and servants) in creating and breeding an emulation between brothers during childhood, which many times sorteth to discord when they are men, and disturbeth families. The Italians make little difference between children and nephews, or near kinsfolks; but so they be of the lump, they care not though they pass not through their own body. And, to say truth, in nature it is much a like matter; insomuch that we see a nephew sometimes resembleth an uncle or a kinsman more than his own parent; as the blood happens. Let parents choose betimes the vocations and courses they mean their children should take; for then they are most ﬂ exible; and let them not too much apply themselves to the disposition of their children, as thinking they will take best to that which they have most mind to. It is true, that if the affection or aptness of the children be extraordinary, then it is good not to cross it; but generally the precept is good, optimum elige, suave et facile illud faciet consuetudo: [choose the best—custom will make it pleasant and easy.] Younger brothers are commonly fortunate, but seldom or never where the elder are disinherited.121

The seasons pass with divine pleasure at Blois and Tours; I am spell-stopped at Benvenuto Cellini’s Nymph of Fontainebleau; I roundeth about Chenonceaux and Poictiers; to my honour and rejoice, the French Queen and King accompany me.122 I remain with great interest as an helluo librorum [a bookworm] in the study of writing in ciphers, and invent a method ingenious to deserve a place in my future work De Augmentis.123 Lady Paulet, who is a woman far from superstition, tells me, on one of our long walks: “I shall help you away with your warts.” Fabulations! She acquires a piece of lard, with the skin on, and rubs the warts all over with the fat side; and amongst the rest, that wart which I had had from my childhood: then she nails the piece of lard, with the fat towards the sun, upon a post of her chamber window, which was to the south. The success was, that within ﬁ ve weeks’ space all the warts went quite away: and that wart which I had so long endured, for company. But at the rest I did little marvel, because they came in a short time, and might go away in a short time again: but the going away of that which had stayed so long, does yet stick with me.124

121 In the 1894 edition Lord Bacon’s Essay G.T.B. there is a note in the margins, “Bacon a little wrong” by the owner of the book, N.J.H.G., presiding at the School for the Daughters of Gentlemen, Kingsley (Christmas of 1895) 122 Lord Campbell: The Life of Lord Bacon, 1853 123 According to a BBC article written by Chris Summers in 2006, an American gang called the Aryan Brotherhood was convicted by a jury after being charged with murder and racketeering. Whilst there stay in prison, it was claimed that they employed a 400-year-old binary code system devised by Sir Francis Bacon, with notes being smuggled out by guards, hidden in mop handles or under rocks in the recreation yards 124 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century x. (997) 68 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

From the British galleons crossing to France, news that Coke, now of the aging matter of six and twenty years is called to the Bar by appointed Benchers of the Inner Temple.125 The news keepeth me from any emotion than that fl owing from the face drawer before me: “Monsieur Bacon, remain still! Does it please? Bear it. Not please? Go out, how thou wilt. Does grief prick thee? Nay, if it stab thee too: if thou art weaponless, present thy throat: if covered with the arms of Vulcan, that is fortitude, resist it.” Nicholas Hilliard gives the fi nal strokes to my miniature portrait: Si tabula daretur digna, animum mallem. [If one could but paint his mind.] By troth to the book I steel to glimpse upon my lap, Pierre de la Primaudave Esceuyer’s The French Academy, and of its unusual opening sentence that cruelly cages my eyes: “Fireworks were not known to antiquity. It is certainly a modern invention. If ever the ancients employed fi res at their festivals, it was only for religious purposes;”126 though the remaining essay doth conclude to describe how ancients used and believed in fi re! It may well appear, the pen is of a dry light; the little mind caught up with little things. And of little mannerism be my consideration of a young man from Poictiers that I am very intimate with, a young Frenchman of great wit, but somewhat talkative, who afterwards turneth out a very eminent man. He useth to inveigh against the manners of old men, and say that if their minds could be seen as well as their bodies, they would appear no less deformed; and further indulging his fancy, he argueth that the defects of their minds had some parallel and correspondence with those of the boy. To dryness of the skin he opposeth impudence; to hardness of the bowels, hardness of the heart; to blear eyes, envy, and the evil eye; to sunken eyes and bowing of the body to the ground, atheism (for they no longer, he saith, look up to heaven); to the trembling of the limbs, vacillation of purpose and inconstancy; to the bending and clutching of the fi ngers, rapacity and avarice; to the tottering of the knees, timidity; to wrinkles, cunning and crooked ways; and other parallels which do not now occur to me,127 except that at my unwise and inexperienced age of eighteen I do assist the storm and receiveth news from York House that father is dead! Threnos. Would I give a ladder of sails for an acre of barren ground till I dock my hollow vessel into port, and race to York House, knowing I have missed my father’s funeral? Why should I lead you on through the endless series of great men and pick out the unhappy ones, as though it were not more diffi cult to fi nd happy ones? For how few households have remained possest of all their members to the end? What one is there that has not suffered some loss? I wear my tears and speculate if father had given any dying thought; I inclined to fulfi l my sorrow with the thought that he spoke upon such words as of how he should not be earnest to see the evening of his age; that extremity of itself being a disease, and a mere return into infancy: so that if perpetuity of life might be given him, he should think what the Greek poet said, Such an age is a mortal evil. And since he must needs be dead, he require it may not be done before his enemies that he be not stript before he be cold; but before his friends. The night was even now; but that name is lost; it is not now late, but

125 Lyon and Block’s Edward Coke Oracle of the Law, 1929 126 Isaac Disraeli: Curiosities of Literature, vol. ii 127 Francis Bacon: The History of Life and Death Lochithea 69 early. His eyes begin now to discharge their watch, and compound with this fl eshly weakness for a time of perpetual rest; and he shall presently be as happy for a few hours, as he had died the fi rst hour he was born.128 Mother pictures father’s funeral and mourners; her account, I fathom, infl uenced by her translation of John Jewel’s Apology into Greek; in the preface, a letter of dedication thus: To the right honourable learned and vertuous Ladie, A. B. Matthew Cantuar, Matthew Parker, Archbishop of Canterbury wisheth from God grace, honour, and felicity.129 I remain silent beside the polished table in the Grand Hall where the memorandum and letters tower unread, by mother’s tearful eyes, and only hear, a most excellent outward sense, by which we learn and get knowledge. My object now is sound, or that which is heard; the medium, air; organ, the ear. To the sound, which is a collision of the air, three things are required; a body to strike, as the hand of a musician; the body struck, which must be solid and able to resist; as a bell, lute-string, not wool, or sponge; the medium, the air; which is inward, or outward; the outward being struck or collided by a solid body, still strikes the next air, until it come to that inward natural air, which as an exquisite organ is contained in a little skin formed like a drum-head, and struck upon by certain small instruments like drum-sticks, conveys the sound by a pair of nerves, appropriated to that use, to common sense, as to a judge of sounds. There is great variety and much delight in them; for the knowledge of which, consult with Boethius and other musicians.130 Mother’s voice not of music: “Your father collected a considerable sum of money, which he had separated with intention to have made a competent purchase of land for the livelihood of you, his youngest son. But the said purchase being unaccomplished at your father’s death, there came no greater share to you than your single part and portion of the money dividable amongst fi ve brethren; by which means you shall now live in some straits and necessities in your young years.”131 Methinks her continuance doth little good: “Death hath snatched my husband from mine arms, and plucked two crutches from my feeble hands.” Her tale, Reader, would cure deafness. I only blink in synchronization to a lament chime of a clock that would soon be muffl ed and packed into a box, as would my feelings of actuality; that my father did not provide for me. And so my wit trained my cheeks delayed blushes; my boast hath beheld man to subscribe in silence; my tongue durst turn into poison; Lordly crowns eclipse life on either knee to pibble-babble Death’s coronation and vanquish upon these mine hands, writ from perfume, blood, pale and dead Courts; so plain for those occasions of growing up and of much wagging tongues: Sir Nicholas Bacon interred on the south side of the choir in St. Paul’s Cathedral; a noble monument there erected to his memory:132

128 Francis Bacon: Essay On Death 129 The Latin book of John Jewel’s (1522–1571) Apologia Ecclesiæ Anglicanæ written when he was forty, in Latin for addressing not only England. First publication in 1562, translated into English by Anne Bacon, whose edition appeared in 1564 130 Robert Burton: The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1653 131 William Rawley, D.D: The Life of Lord Bacon, 1657 132 The earliest epitaphs in English churches are usually a simple statement of name and rank, with the phrase hic jacet [here lies]. The earliest surviving epitaphs are those of the ancient Egyptians, 70 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

THINK NOT THAT THIS SHRINE CONTAINS THAT NICHOLAS BACON, WHO WAS SO LONG THE SECOND PILLAR OF GREAT BRITAIN; THE SCOURGE OF THE VICIOUS, AND THE SANCTUARY OF THE GOOD: WHOM BLIND FORTUNE DID NOT EXALT TO THAT HEIGHT OF HONOUR; BUT HIS EQUITY, FIDELITY, LEARNING, PIETY, SINGULAR PRUDENCE. NEITHER BELIEVE HIM TO BE BY CHANCE SNATCHED AWAY, WHO, BY ONE SHORT LIFE, PURCHASED TO IN LIFE ETERNAL. HE LIVES HIS SECOND LIFE AMONGST THE HEAVENLY SPIRITS. HIS FAME FILLETH THE WORLD, WHICH IS HIS THIRD LIFE. IN THIS ALTAR IS REPOSED HIS BODY, SOMETIME THE HOUSE OF HIS SOUL; AND ALTAR DEDICATED TO HIS PERPETUAL MEMORY.

The care of funerals, the place of sepulture, the pomps of obsequies, are rather consolations to the living than any benefi t to the dead.133 Father’s death calleth tributes to his memory: a free grammar school at Redgrave is founded. His three sons and three daughters from his fi rst marriage with Jane Ferneley, attend the funeral. It be of these six children that mother had saith on, and to whom my father hath provided for upon his death. On my departure from father’s burial place, I divert route into St. James’ fi elds. My melancholy passions take me to a conduit of brick, unto which joineth with a low vault; and at the end of that a round house of stone; and in the brick conduit there is a window; and in the round house a slit or rift of some little breadth: I cry out in the rift; my cry cometh back as a fearful roar that is heard at the window.134 I let out all that has embodied inside me; the waking snore whose life is little better than death; though living and awake.135 I throw my name ’gainst bruising stones, my poor wounded name. Stand fast dark Lament to my babble; make the words of my destiny their path, for their own doth little advantage. Mother leaves for Gorhambury; Anthony sails to France then Italy and to Navarre, coming the languages and manners, the politics and events, of these famous lands.136

written on the sarcophagi and cofﬁ ns, usually in elegiac verse, though many of the later epitaphs are in prose 133 St. Augustine: City of God, i. 12 134 (a) Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century ii. (140) (b) Mr Timbs’ Curiosities of London (c) Spedding: Evenings with a Reviewer, vol. i. p. 8, 1881: “There was a brick conduit with a window in it, leading to a round-house of stone in which was a rift; and the phenomenon was, that if you cried out into the rift it made a fearful roaring at the window. It may be probable (though it is not stated) that he [Bacon] made acquaintance with this fact when he was a child; but it must have been in the company of at least one of his playfellow. For there must clearly have been two,—one to cry at the rift and the other to listen at the window.” [I have averted from adding a playfellow in the scene so as the reader may look upon Lord Bacon’s lamentations with a veil over his face.] 135 Lucretius, iii. 1048, 1046 136 (a) Extract from J.W. Cousins’ A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature, 1910 (b) W. H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861.: William Hepworth Dixon (1821–1879), historian and traveller, born near Manchester, went to London in 1846, and became connected with The Daily News, for which he wrote articles on social and prison reform. Lochithea 71

Francis Bacon? I would not be understood to deny that there have been many instances of men who have been left for dead, laid out, and carried forth to burial; nay, of some who have been actually buried; that have yet come to life again. In the case of those who have been buried, this has been ascertained, on opening the grave, from the wounded and bruised state of the head, by reason of the body striving and tossing in the coffi n. The most recent and memorable instance thereof was the subtle schoolman Duns Scotus,137 who having been buried in the absence of his servant (who appears to have known the symptoms of these fi ts), was by him afterwards disinterred and found in this state. And a similar thing happened in our time to an actor buried at Cambridge. I remember to have heard of a gentleman who, being curious to know what the sensation of hanging was, hung himself by mounting on a stool and then dropping himself off, thinking of course that he would be able to regain the stool as soon as he like; but this he was unable to do, and he was only released by a friend who was present. On being asked what he had suffered, dear Reader, he said that he felt no pain, but that at fi rst he saw round about him the appearance of fi re burning, which was succeeded by an intense blackness or darkness, and then by a kind of pale blue or sea-green colour, such as is often seen also by fainting persons. It hath also been thither told to me from a physician still alive, that by the use of frictions and warm baths he had recovered a man who had hung himself and been suspended for half an hour, and he made no doubt of being able to restore to life any one who had been suspended for the same time, provided his neck had not been broken by the shock of the fi rst drop.

In 1850 he published John Howard and the Prison World of Europe, which had a wide circulation, and about the same time he wrote a Life of Peace (1851), in answer to Macaulay’s onslaught. Lives of Admiral Blake and Lord Bacon followed, which received somewhat severe criticisms at the hands of competent authorities. Dixon was editor of The Athenæum, 1853–69, and wrote many books of travel, including The Holy Land (1865), New America (1867), and Free Russia (1870). His later historical works include Her Majesty’s Tower, and The History of Two Queens (Catherine of Arragon and Anne Boleyn). Though a diligent student of original authorities, and sometimes successful in throwing fresh light on his subjects, Dixon was not always accurate, and thus laid himself open to criticism; and his book, Spiritual Wives, treating of Mormonism, was so adversely criticised as to lead to an action. He wrote, however, in a fresh and interesting style. He was one of the founders of the Palestine Exploration Fund, and was a member of the fi rst School Board for London (1870). He was called to the Bar in 1854, but never practised— Encyclopædia Britannica 137 Duns Scotus (c. 1266–1308). As the historian Ernest Renan noted, there is perhaps no other great medieval thinker whose life is as little known as that of Duns Scotus. Yet patient research during the 20th century has unearthed a number of facts. Early 14th—century manuscripts, for instance, state explicitly that John Duns was a Scot, from Duns, who belonged to the English province of Friars Minor (the order founded by Francis of Assisi), that “he fl ourished at Cambridge, Oxford, and Paris and died in Cologne.” Scotus opposed the rationalists’ contention that philosophy is self-suffi cient and adequate to satisfy man’s desire for knowledge. In fact, he claimed, a pure philosopher, such as Aristotle, could not truly understand the human condition because he was ignorant of the fall of man and his need for grace and redemption—Encyclopædia Britannica 72 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

O! Where shalt thou darkeneth thy presence, dear physician, from mine death bed?138 Another sweet sacrifi ce to Death: Sir Thomas Gresham, Knight, Citizen of London, the Queen’s Merchant, son of Sir Richard Gresham, Knight; who for an ornament to his country and use of merchants, built a very goodly walking place at London, named by Queen Elizabeth, The Royal Exchange, and dedicated a very fair house he had in the city, to the profession of learning, constituting therein lectures of divinity, civil law, physic, astronomy, geometry, and rhetoric.139 I think good to deliver there be a faulty fault indeed: Edmund Spenser bringeth news in concern with a proclamation that entitled the Areopagos to infl ict a ceasing and silence of bald Rhymers, and also of the very best: instead whereof, they have, by authority of their whole senate, prescribed certain laws and rules of quantities of English syllable for English Verse.140 Spenser repairs me with his account of acquaintance to Sir Walter Raleigh, after his arrival in Ireland. It was of importance to him: in need of her Majesty’s permission, Spenser read to Raleigh the fi rst books of his poem. Raleigh pleased, persuaded Spenser to accompany him to London. On arrival, he was presented to her Majesty; his reading to her of The Three Legends of Holiness, Temperance, and Chastity, was to her liking and an annual allowance was established of £50 together with her permission to print the Faerie Queene with a dedication to her. The poem receives unprecedented applause by the Court and all England.141

Faerie Queene To thee that art the summers Nightingale, Thy sovereign Goddesses most dear delight, Why do I send this rustic Madrigal, That may thy tuneful ear unseason quite? Thou only ﬁ t this argument to write In whose high thoughts Pleasure hath built her bower, And dainty Love learned sweetly to endite. My rimes I know unsavoury and sour, To taste the streams, that, like a golden shower, Flow from thy fruitful head, of thy Loves praise; Fitter perhaps to thunder martial stowre, When so thee list thy lofty Muse to raise: Yet, till that thou thy poem wilt make known, Let thy faire Cynthia’s praises be thus rudely shown. Edmund Spenser

138 Francis Bacon: The History of Life and Death 139 William Camden: Diaries 140 Edmund Spenser (1552–1599) Complete Works in Verse and Prose, 1882 141 George Armstrong Wauchope’s introduction in Spenser’s The Faerie Queene, Book i, published in 1921 Lochithea 73

Of another framed particular: her Majesty hath requested Dr. Dee to collect varieties on newly discovered countries; with these discoveries I must mention the strange trembling of the earth that cameth: at evening, the air being clear and calm, England is in a moment trembled in such sort that in some places stones fall down from buildings, the Bells in steeples strike ’gainst the clappers, and the very sea, being then most calm, is vehemently shaken up and down. The next night following, it is heard that the earth in Kent trembled once, and again the second time in the dead time of the night. Whether this happened by force of winds gotten into the hollow places of the earth, or of waters ﬂ owing under the earth, or from any other cause, let the natural philosophers look whereunto there is reward for work.142 I, fall to my terms at Gray’s Inn Square, Chambers number one, and youth clap my letter to hence away to France:

Mr. Doylie.143 This very afternoon, giving date to these letters of mine, I received yours by the hands of Mr. Winibank. To the which I thought convenient not only to make answer, but also therein to make speed; lest upon supposition that the two letters enclosed were according to their direction delivered, you should commit any error, either in withholding your letters so much the longer where peradventure they mought [might] he looked for, or in not withholding to make mention of these former letters in any others of a latter dispatch. The considerations that moved me to stay the letters from receipt, whether they be in respect that I take this course to be needless, or insufﬁ cient, or likely to breed to more inconvenience otherwise than to do good as it is meant, in sum, such they are that they prevail with my simple discretion, which you have put in trust in ordering the matter, to persuade me to do as I have done. My trust and desire likewise is, that you will repose and satisfy your self upon that which seemeth good to me herein, being most privy to the circumstances of the matter, and tendering my brother’s credit as I ought, and not being misaffected to you neither. By those at whom you glance, if I know whom you mean, I know likewise that you mean amiss; for I am able upon knowledge to acquit them from being towards this matter. For mine own part, truly Mr. Doylie I never took it but that your joining in company and travel with my brother proceeded not only of goodwill in you, but also of his motion, and that your mind was always rather by desert than pretence of friendship to earn thanks than to win them; neither would I say thus much to you if I would stick to say it in any place where the contrary were enforced; and in that I certiﬁ ed my brother of this matter being delivered unto me for truth, I had this consideration, that between friends

142 William Camden: Diaries 143 “The copies of some of the letters lately published by Mr. Hepworth Dixon (Personal History of Francis Bacon. Murray, 1861) differ, I observe, very much from mine; most of them in the word and sense, more or less; and some in the name of the person writing, or the person written to, or both. But as mine are more intelligible, and were made with care and at leisure and when my eyes were better than they are now, I do not suspect any material error in them, and have not thought it worth while to apply for leave to compare them again with the originals.”—James Spedding. [Mr. Dixon gives the name of the receiver to be Mr. Wylie.] 74 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals more advertisements are proﬁ table than true. My request unto you is that you will proceed in your good mind towards my brother’s well-doing, and although he him self can best both judge and consider of it, yet I dare say withal that his friends will not be unthankful to misconstrue it, but ready to acknowledge it upon his liking; and as for this matter, if you take no knowledge at all of it, I will undertake it upon my knowledge that it shall be the better choice. Thus betake I you to the Lord. Your very friend. Fra. Bacon.144

The signiﬁ cance of my above letter shalt not be graced; it is the quality of my writing that need be noted, being one of the earliest known pieces of letter writing from my hand. How grave, how cold this message.145

144 Mr. Dixon’s entry of the letter: “This very afternoon, giving date to these letters of mine. I received yours by the hands of Mr. Wimbanke, and to the which I thought convenient not only to make answer, but also therein to make speed, lest, upon supposition that the two letters enclosed, were according to their directions, delivered, you should commit any error, wither in withholding your letters so much the longer when peradventure they mought be looked for, or in not withholding to make mention of these former letters in any other of a latter despatch. The considerations that moved me to stay the letters from receipt, whether they be in respect that I take this course to be needless or insuffi cient or likely to lead to more inconvenience other wise than to do good, as it is meant in some such, they are that they prevail with my simple discretion, which you have put in trust in ordering the matter to persuade me to do as I have done. My trust and desire likewise is that you will report and satisfy yourself upon that which seemeth good to me herein, being most privy to the circumstances of the matter, and tendering my brother’s orders as I ought, and not being misaffected to you neither, by those at whom you glance, while I know whom you mean. I know likewise that you mean amiss; for I am able, upon knowledge. To acquit them from being toward in this matter. For mine own part, truly, Mr. Wylie, I never took it that your joining in company and travel with my brother proceeded not only of good will in you, but also of his motion, and that your mind was always rather by desert than pretence of friendship to earn thanks than to win them. Neither would I say this much to you, if I would shrink to say it in any place where the contrary was inferred: and in that I rectifi ed my brother of this matter being delivered unto me for truth. I had this consideration that among friends more advertisements are profi table than true. My request to you is, that you will continue and proceed in your good mind toward any brother’s well-dong; and although he himself can best but judge and consider of it, yet dare say withal that his friends will not be unthankful to misconstrue it, but ready to acknowledge it upon his liking. And as for this matter, as you take no knowledge at all of it, I will undertake it upon my knowledge that it shall be the better choice. Thus betake I you to the Lords. Your very friend.” 145 James Spedding (1808–1881) editor of Bacon’s Works, s. of a Cumberland squire, and ed. at Bury St. Edmunds and Camb., was for some years in the Colonial Offi ce. He devoted himself to the editions of Bacon’s works, and the endeavour to clear his character ’gainst the aspersions of Macaulay and others. The former was done in conjunction with Ellis and Heath, his own being much the largest share in their great editions (1861–74); and the latter, so far as possible, in The Life and Letters, entirely his own. In 1878 he brought out an abridged Life and Times of Francis Bacon. He strongly combated the theory that Bacon was the author of Shakespeare’s plays. His death was caused by his being run over by a cab. He enjoyed the friendship of many of his Lochithea 75

Roundeth about is William Camden’s well observation that Drake him self having now cast with one ship alone to the 55th degree of the south latitude, having with much ado gotten up the latitude of the straight, coasted along the shore, and found those coasts to give back with a great returning into the east, otherwise then they are set down in the maps. Drake comes to Mouch, an island near the shore, where one or two of his sailors whom he had sent for fresh water are intercepted one after another by the people of the country. Setting sail fro hence, he lighted upon a Barbarian fi shing in a small boat who, supposing our men to be Spaniards, gave them notice that there rode a great Spanish ship at anchor laden at Villa Parizo, and directed them thither. The Spanish mariners seeing the Englishmen coming, and supposing them to be their own countrymen, rung a bell, drew wine of Chily, and drunk to them full cups. But they, clapping the ship aboard, thrust the Spaniards presently under hatches, sacked the town of Saint Iago hard by together with the Chappell, the booty whereof fell to Fletcher minister of the word in the Fleet. The Spaniards being set on land (which were not above eight with two negroes), he carried away with him the master being by nation a Grecian, and the ships wherein was four hundred pound weight of gold of Baldivium, so called of the place, which was most fi ne and pure. Then went he on land to Taurapasa, where he found a Spaniard sleeping securely upon the shore, and by him thirteen bars and wedges of silver to the value of four hundredth thousand Duckets; which he commanded to be carried away, not so much as once waking the man. Afterwards entering into the haven of Africa, he found there three ships without sailors, and in them, besides other merchandiser, fi fty seven wedges of silver, whereof every one was of twenty pound weight. From hence he sailed to Lima, where he found twelve ships riding at anchor, their muntion being drawn up on land, and in them good store of silks, and a chest full of money ready stamped, but not so much as a boy aboard, so great security was there in that coast that they stood in no fear at all of pirates by reason of the most remoteness of the places and the unknown sea. And certainly, after Magellan, never any man before Drake had navigated that sea save only the Spaniards, who built there all the ships they had in that coast. Having committed these ships to the ocean, he chased with all the sails he could make the Cacofoga a most rich ship, which he understood had set sail from thence towards Panama. By the way he met a small Brigantine unarmed, out of which he took fourscore pound weight of gold, a golden crucifi x, some emeralds of a fi ngers length, and some munition. He overtook the Cacofoga and having shot down the foremast with the shot of a great piece of ordnance, he set upon her and soon took her, and in her besides pearls and precious stones, fourscore pound weight of gold, thirteen chests full of silver stamped, and so great a quantity of silver as would suffi ce to ballast a ship. Which when he had laden into his own ship, he let the Cacofoga go. The master whereof is reported to have bidden him thus merrily farewell, saying: “We resign the name of your ship to yours. Yours now may be the Cacafoga, that is, Ignicaca, and ours Cacoplata, that is Argenticaca.” After this time he met with no rich bootie. His China dishes with an eagle of gold and a faire negresse, given unto him for a present by a Spaniard whose ship he had spared, and the sacking of Aquatulco a small town, I purposely omit.

greatest contemporaries, including Carlyle, Tennyson, and Fitzgerald—J.W. Cousins: A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature, 1910 76 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

In praise of Drake these verses, amongst others, are set up the same day upon the main mast, written by the Scholars of Winchester School:146

In Praise of Drake On Hercules Pillars, Drake, thou maist Plus ultra write full well, And say, “I will in greatness that Great Hercules excel.” Sir Drake, whom well the worlds end knows Which thou didst compass round, And whom both Poles of Heaven once saw, Which North and South do bound, The Stars above will make thee known Of men here silent were. The Sun himself cannot forget His Fellow-traveller. Amongst the radiant Stars to stand Thy Ship well worthy were; Well worthy on the highest top Of Heaven a place to bear.

The earth shakes again, of six in the afternoon in London and throughout England. The clock bell at Westminster strikes of itself; from the Temples, gentlemen in fear, run from their tables; the sea foams; ships totter.147 Our very worthy Common Council announces the eating of meats to be feared of infection; hence, the selling of pork now prohibited.148 Meantime, I could do no more than I usually could do at the age of twenty, but into law sink and humbly request from Lady and Lord Burghley to take me under their wing as my patrons.149

My Singular Good Lady. I was as ready to show myself mindful of my duty by waiting on your Ladyship at your being in town as now by writing, had I not feared lest your Ladyship’s short stay and quick return mought well spare one that came of no earnest errand. I am not yet greatly perfect in ceremonies of Court, whereof I know your Ladyship knoweth both the right use and

146 William Camden: Diaries 147 John Dee: Diaries 148 See F.P. Wilson: The Plague in Shakespeare’s London, 1963 149 “The proposition, whatever it was, having been explained to Burghley in conversation, is only alluded to in these letters. It seems to have been so far out of the common way as to require an apology, and the terms of the apology imply that it was for some employment as a lawyer. And this is all the light I can throw upon it.”—James Spedding Lochithea 77 true value. My thankful and serviceable mind shall be always like itself, howsoever it vary from the common disguising. Your Ladyship is wise and of good nature to discern from what mind every action proceedeth, and to esteem of it accordingly. This is all the message which my letter hath at this time to deliver, unless it please your Ladyship further to give me leave to make this request unto you, that it would please your good Ladyship in your letters wherewith you visit my good Lord to vouchsafe the mention and recommendation of my suit; wherein your Ladyship shall bind me more unto you than I can look ever to be able sufﬁ ciently to acknowledge. Thus in humble manner I take my leave of your Ladyship, committing you as daily in my prayers so likewise at this present to the merciful providence of the Almighty. Your Ladyship’s most dutiful and bounden nephew. Fra. Bacon.

My Singular Good Lord. My humble duty remembered and my humble thanks presented for your Lordship’s favour and countenance, which it pleased your Lordship at my being with you to vouchsafe me above my degree and desert, my letter hath no further errand but commend unto your Lordship the remembrance of my suit which then I moved unto you, whereof it also pleased your Lordship to give me good hearing so far forth as to promise to tender it unto her Majesty, and withal to add in the behalf of it that which I may better deliver by letter than by speech, which is, that although it must be confessed that the request is rare and unaccustomed, yet if it be observed how few there he which fall in with the study of the common laws, either being well left or friended, or at their own free election, or forsaking likely success in other studies of more delight and no less preferment, or setting hand thereunto early without waste of years; upon such survey made, it may be my case may not seem ordinary, no more than my suit, and so more beseeming unto it. As I force myself to say this in excuse of my motion, lest it should appear unto your Lordship altogether undiscreet and unadvised, so my hope to obtain it resteth only upon your Lordship’s good affection toward me and grace with her Majesty, who methinks needeth never to call for the experience of the thing, where she hath so great and so good of the person which recommendeth it. According to which trust of mine, if it may please your Lordship both herein and elsewhere to be my patron, and to make account of me as one in whose well- doing your Lordship hath interest, albeit indeed your Lordship hath had place to beneﬁ t many, and wisdom to make due choice of lighting-places for your goodness, yet do I not fear any of your Lordship’s former experiences for staying my thankfulness born in heart, howsoever God’s good pleasure shall enable me or disable me outwardly to make proof thereof. For I cannot account your Lordship’s service distinct from that which I owe to God and my Prince; the performance whereof to best proof and purpose is the meeting point and rendezvous of all my thoughts. 78 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Thus I take my leave of your Lordship in humble manner, committing you, as daily in my prayers, so likewise at this present, to the merciful protection of the Almighty. Your most dutiful and bounden nephew. Fra. Bacon.

Many and hearty visits from Cousin Thomas Bodley on two points: fi rst, for Dr. Dee that he durst hears of strange noises in his chamber of knocking; and a voice, ten times repeated, somewhat like the shriek of an owl, but more longly drawn, and more softly, as it were in his chamber. Whereunto he talks of omens and warnings to come.150 Second, of her Majesty to soon commission me to arrange various reports and compile them into notes of observations respecting the laws, religion, military strength and whatsoever that could concern the pleasure or profi t in the countries of Europe. Methinks my journey frames particulars on the great French embassy that arriveth to England; and negotiate an alliance and her Majesty’s marriage with Alençon.151 This I know shalt be a bonded twelve-month tour into Italy whereunto I shalt meet with Anthony then further continue into Spain, Germany and then on to Denmark. I am to observe life, styles, gather any useful information for her Majesty and, why not, for my own efforts. Anthony, who doth indebt me with contacts and a route, plans a worthy journey. My compiled notes give me the material I overfl ow into my Essays of short works that treat various topics from my point of view. My topics shall soon topple to fi fty-eight: on travel, on great places, plantations, nature in men, custom and education, beauty, building, followers and friends and many more.152 To speak of high-days and holidays: I assist with great glee in all the festivities of the Inn; I lay out various walks in the gardens, and plant trees; I compose a juvenile work, with great confi dence and a pompous title Temporis Partum Masculum [Most Masculine Birth of Time], regarding my philosophical speculations; but it remains stillborn from any publication,153 and it must be delved upon somewhat, on the printing of books:154

150 Halliwell’s The Private Diary of Dr. John Dee, 1842 151 The World’s Greatest Books, vol x 152 Aubrey’s Brief Lives: “I met accidentally a book of my mother’s, Lord Bacon’s Essays, which fi rst opened my understanding as to morals (for Tullie’s Offi ces was too crabbed for my young years) and the excellence of the style, or hints and transitions.” 153 (a) Lord J. Campbell: The Life of Lord Bacon, 1853 (b) Baconiana, 1579, p. 200 154 Henry Plomer: A Short History of English Printing, 1898: “The fi rst printed book of John Herford, the St. Albans printer, was in 1534. William and Isaac Jaggard are best known as the printers of the works of Shakespeare. They were associated in the production of the fi rst folio in 1623, which came from the press of Isaac Jaggard and Edward Blount, at the charges of William Jaggard, Edward Blount, J. Smethwicke, and William Aspley; the editors being the poet’s friends, J. Heminge and H. Condell. In addition to being the fi rst collected edition of Shakespeare’s works, this was in many respects a remarkable volume. The best copies measure 13-1/2 x 8-1/2". The title page bears the portrait of the poet by Droeshout. The dedicatory epistle is in large italic type, and is followed by a second epistle, “To the Readers,” in Roman. The verses in praise of the author, by Ben Jonson and others, are printed in a second fount of italic, and the Contents in a still smaller fount of the same letter. The text, printed in double columns, Lochithea 79

The compositor sits in front of two cases; one of capital letters, the other of lower case letters. He slots letters into a galley until a page be complete. This block is then placed on a table with other pages and set to form. Next, shall be the printing: the block is locked fi rmly to form and the slightly moist sheet of paper fi tted onto the tympan to protect all edges of pages from inking; the frisket is now lowered. Proofreading: the fi rst sheet taken to the proofreader whilst the uncorrected type continues in press until proofreading is concluded. Of fi nality be the sheets collated, folded, sewn, bound and edges trimmed for the folded pages be cut and the book ready for the bookseller. The Turks have a pretty art of chamoletting of paper,155 which is not with us in use. They take divers oiled colours, and put them severally, in drops, upon water; and stir the water lightly; and then wet their paper, being of some thickness, with it; and the paper will be waved and veined, like chamolet or marble.156,157 Whereunto Freind noteth,

is in Roman and Italic, each page being enclosed within printer’s rules. Of these various types, the best is the large italic, which somewhat resembles Day’s fount of the same letter. That of the text is exceedingly poor, while the setting of the type and rules leaves much to be desired. The arrangement and pagination are erratic. The book, like many other folios, was made up in sixes, and the fi rst alphabet of signatures is correct and complete, while the second runs on regularly to the completion of the Comedies on cc.2. The Histories follow with a fresh alphabet, which the printer began as ‘aa,’ and continued as ‘a’ until he got to ‘g,’ when he inserted a ‘gg’ of eight leaves, and then continued from ‘i’ to ‘x’ in sixes to the end of the Histories. The Tragedies begin with Troilus and Cresside, the insertion of which was evidently an afterthought, as there is no mention of it in the ‘Contents’ of the volume, and the signatures of the sheets are ¶ followed by ¶¶ six leaves each. Then they start afresh with ‘aa’ and proceed regularly to ‘hh,’ the end of the Macbeth, the following signature being ‘kk,’ thus omitting the remainder of signature ‘hh’ and the whole of ‘ii.’ In a series of interesting letters communicated to Notes and Queries (8 S. vol. viii. pp. 306, 353, 429), the make up of this volume is explained very plausibly. The copyright of Troilus and Cresside belonged to R. Bonian and H. Walley, who apparently refused at fi rst to give their sanction to its publication. But by that time it had been printed, and the sheets signed for it to follow Macbeth, so that it had to be taken out. Arrangements having at last been made for its insertion in the work, it was reprinted and inserted where it is now found. It is also surmised that the original intention was to publish the work in three parts, and to this theory the repetition of the signatures lends colour.” 155 Spedding: Works, vol. v: “Marbled paper: the art of making it was discovered in Germany.” 156 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century viii. (741) 157 Extract from Isaac Disraeli’s Curiosities of Literature, vol ii: “The laws of England have never violated the freedom and the dignity of its press. “There is no law to prevent the printing of any book in England, only a decree in the Star-Chamber,” said the learned Selden. Proclamations were occasionally issued against authors and books; and foreign works were, at times, prohibited. The freedom of the press was rather circumvented, than openly attacked, in the reign of Elizabeth, who dreaded the Roman Catholics, who were at once disputing her right to the throne, and the religion of the State. Foreign publications, or “books from any parts beyond the seas,” were therefore prohibited. The press, however, was not free under the reign of a sovereign, whose high-toned feelings, and the exigencies of the times, rendered as despotic in deeds, as the pacifi c James was in words. Although the press had then no restrictions, an author was always at the mercy of the government. Elizabeth too had a keen scent after what she called treason, which she allowed to take in a large compass. She condemned one author (with his publisher) to 80 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

“among other ingenious contrivances, he put statues in motion, and drew articulate sounds from a brazen head, not however by magic, but by an artifi cial application of the principles of natural philosophy. This probably furnished a foundation for the tale of Friar Bacon and Friar Bungy, which was one of the earliest productions to which the art of printing was applied in England.” It be worthy, methinks, to mention that Freind also saith “these two persons are said to have entertained the project of inclosing England with a wall, so as to render it inaccessible to any invader. They accordingly raised the devil, as the person best able to inform them how this was to be done. The devil advised them to make a brazen head, with all the internal structure and organs of a human head. The construction would cost them much time; and they must then wait with patience till the faculty of speech descended upon it. It would fi nally however become an oracle, and, if the question were propounded to it, would teach them the solution of their problem. The friars spent seven years in bringing the structure to perfection, and then waited day after day, in expectation that it would utter articulate sounds. At length nature became exhausted in them, and they lay down to sleep, having fi rst given it strictly in charge to a servant of theirs, clownish in nature, but of strict fi delity, that he should awaken them the moment the image began to speak. That period arrived. The head uttered sounds, but such as the clown judged unworthy of notice. “Time is!” it said. No notice was taken; and a long pause ensued. “Time was!” A similar pause, and no notice. “Time is passed!” And the moment these words were uttered, a tremendous storm ensued, with thunder and lightning, and the head was shivered into a thousand pieces. Thus the experiment of friar Bacon and friar Bungy came to nothing.”158 As to nothing also cometh news from Mr. Barnabas Sawle that chests of books be found by Owndle in Northamptonshire. But we fi nd no truth in it. The following night, Mr. Sawle is troubled by a creature he sees over his chambers of the midnight time.159

have the hand cut off which wrote his book; and she hanged another. It was Sir Francis Bacon, or his father, who once pleasantly turned aside the keen edge of her regal vindictiveness.” 158 William Godwin: Exercise of Magical Power, 1834 159 (a) Halliwell: The Private Diary of Dr. John Dee, 1842 (b) Edward Fenton: The Diaries of John Dee, 1998 (c) Henry Plomer: A Short History of English Printing, 1898: “The history of the best work in the trade in London is practically the history of three men: John Haviland, Miles Fletcher, and Robert Young, who joined partnership and, in addition to a share in the royal printing house, obtained by purchase the right of printing the Abridgements to the Statutes, and bought up several large and old-established printing houses, such as those of George Purslowe, Edward Grifﬁ n, and William Stansby. Bernard Alsop and Thomas Fawcett were also among the large capitalists of this time, while Nathaniel Butter, Nicholas Bourne, and Thomas Archer were also interested in several businesses beside their own. From the press of Haviland came editions of Bacon’s Essays, in quarto, in 1625, 1629, 1632; of his Apophthegms, in octavo, in 1625; of his Miscellanies, an edition in quarto, in 1629, and his Opera Moralia in 1638. From the press of Fletcher came the Divine Poems of Francis Quarles, in 1633, 1634, and 1638, and the Hieroglyphikes of the life of Man, by the same author, in 1638; while amongst Young’s publications, editions of Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet appeared in 1637. Bernard Alsop and his partner printed the plays of Beaumont and Fletcher, Decker, Greene, Lodge, and Shirley, the poems of Brathwait, Breton, and Crashaw, and the writings of Fuller and More.” Lochithea 81

My stand more proper, before leaving for Europe, my writ to uncle Burghley duly thanking her Majesty for providing me with a maintenance allowance regarding this journey:

My Singular Good Lord. Your Lordship’s comfortable relation of her Majesty’s gracious opinion and meaning towards me, though at that time your leisure gave me not leave to show how I was affected therewith, yet upon every representation thereof it entereth and striketh so much more deeply into me, as both my nature and duty presseth me to return some speech of thankfulness. It must be an exceeding comfort and encouragement to me, setting forth and putting myself in way towards her Majesty’s service, to encounter with an example so private and domestical of her Majesty’s gracious goodness and benignity; being made good and verifi ed in my father so far forth as it extendeth to his posterity, accepting them as commended by his service, during the non-age, as I may term it, of their own deserts. I, for my part, am well content that I take least part either of his abilities of mind or of his worldly advancements, both which he held and received, the one of the gift of God immediate, the other of her Majesty’s gift: yet in the loyal and earnest affection which he bare to her Majesty’s service, I trust my portion shall not be with the least, nor in proportion with my youngest birth. For methinks his precedent should be a silent charge upon his blessing unto us all in our degrees, to follow him afar off, and to dedicate unto her Majesty’s service both the use and spending of our lives. True it is that I must needs acknowledge myself prepared and furnished thereunto with nothing but a multitude of lacks and imperfections. But calling to mind how diversly and in what particular providence God hath declared himself to tender the estate of her Majesty’s affairs, I conceive and gather hope that those whom he hath in a manner pressed for her Majesty’s service; by working and imprinting in them a single and zealous mind to bestow their days therein, he will see them accordingly appointed of suffi ciency convenient for the rank and standing where they shall be employed: so as under this her Majesty’s blessing I trust to receive a larger allowance of God’s graces. As I may hope for these, so I can assure and promise for my endeavour that it shall not be in fault; but what diligence can entitle me unto, that I doubt not to recover. And now seeing it hath pleased her Majesty to take knowledge of this my mind, and to vouchsafe to appropriate me unto her service, preventing any desert of mine with her princely liberality; fi rst, I am moved humbly to beseech your Lordship to present to her Majesty my more than most humble thanks therefore, and withal having regard to mine own unworthiness to receive such favour, and to the small possibility in me to satisfy and answer what her Majesty conceiveth, I am moved to become a most humble suitor unto her Majesty, that this benefi t also may be affi xed unto the other; which is, that if there appear not in me such towardness of service as it may be her Majesty doth benignly value me and assess me at, by reason of my sundry wants, and the disadvantage of my nature, being unapt to lay forth the simple store of these inferior gifts which God hath allotted unto me most to view; yet that it would please her excellent Majesty not to account my thankfulness less for that my 82 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals disability is great to show it; but to sustain me in her Majesty’s gracious opinion, whereupon I only rest, and not upon expectation of any desert to proceed from myself towards the contentment thereof. But if it shall please God to send forth an occasion whereby my faithful affection may be tried, I trust it shall save me labour for ever making more protestation of it after. In the meantime, howsoever it be not made known to her Majesty, yet God knoweth it through the daily solicitations wherewith I address myself unto him in unfeigned prayer for the multiplying of her Majesty’s prosperities. To your Lordship, whose recommendation, I know right well, hath been material to advance her Majesty’s good opinion of me, I can be but a bounden servant. So much may I safely promise and purpose to be, seeing public arid private bonds vary not, but that my service to God, her Majesty, and your Lordship draw in a line. I wish therefore to show it with as good proof, as I say it with good faith. Your Lordship’s dutiful and bounden nephew. Fra. Bacon.

As a Member of Parliament, I now represent voters of an electoral district, which is Bassiney, Cornwall. After this acceptance, my travel to Europe begins: Italy, Florence, Venice, Mantua, Genoa, Savoy, Spain, Portugal, Austria, Germany, Denmark, Sweden and Poland. A complete year be spent to compile information; I write up Anthony’s reports that he giveth me, together with a report from Nicholas Faunt being a good friend to Anthony and Secretary and foreign emissary to Sir Francis Walsingham, when the latter be the Queen’s Secretary of State. These reports are bundled together and presented to her Majesty as a State Paper160 that is given to uncle Burghley and her Majesty of which I shall enter further. I forward an urgent letter to Cousin Thomas Bodley for provision in October from Orleans; his reply below cometh of a month:

My Dear Cousin. According to your request in your letter dated October 19 at Orleans, I received here the 18 of December, I have sent you by your merchant £30 sterling for your present supply, and had sent you a greater sum, but that my extraordinary charge this year hath utterly unfurnished me. And now, Cousin, though I will be no severe exactor of the account, either of your money or time, yet for the love I bear you, I am very desirous, both to satisfy myself, and our friends how you prosper in your travels, and how you fi nd yourself bettered thereby, either in knowledge of God, or the world; the rather, because the days you have already spent abroad, are now both suffi cient to give you light, how to fi x yourself and end with counsel, and accordingly to shape your course constantly unto it. Besides, it is a vulgar scandal unto the travellers, that few return more religious than they went forth; wherein both my hope and request is to you, that your principal care be to hold your foundation, and to make no other use of informing yourself in the corruptions and

160 Francis Bacon: Notes on the Present State of Christendom Lochithea 83 superstitions of other nations, than only thereby to engage your own heart more fi rmly to the truth. You live indeed in a country of two several professions, and you shall return a novice, if you be not able to give an account of the ordinances, strength, and progress of each, in reputation, and party, and how both are supported, balanced and managed by the state, as being the contrary humours, in the temper of predominancy whereof, the health or disease of the body doth consist. These things you will observe, not only as an Englishman, whom it may concern, to what interest his country may expect in the consciences of their neighbours; but as, as a Christian, to consider both the beauties and blemishes, the hopes and dangers of the church in all places. Now for the world, I know it too well, to persuade you to dive into the practices thereof; rather stand upon your own guard, against all that attempt you there unto, or may practise upon you in your conscience, reputation, or your purse. Resolve, no man is wise or safe, but he that is honest: and let this persuasion turn your studies and observations from the complement and impostures of the debased age, to more real grounds of wisdom, gathered out of the story of times past, and out of the government of the present state. Your guide to this, is the knowledge of the country and the people among whom ye live; for the country though you cannot see all places, yet if, as you pass along, you enquire carefully, and further help your self with books that are written of the cosmography of those parts, you shall suffi ciently gather the strength riches, traffi ck, havens, shipping, commodities, vent and the wants and disadvantages of places. Wherein also, for your good hereafter, and from your friends, it will befi t to note their buildings, furniture, entertainments; all their husbandry, and ingenious inventions, in whatsoever concerneth either pleasure of profi t. For the people, your traffi ck among them, while you learn their language, will suffi ciently instruct you in their habilities, dispositions, and humours, if you a little enlarge the privacy of your own nature, to seek acquaintance with the best sort of strangers, and restrain your affections and participation, for your own countrymen of whatsoever condition. In the story of France, you have a large and pleasant fi eld in three lines of their Kings, to observe their alliances and successions, their conquests, their wars; especially with us; their councils, their treaties, and all rules and examples of experiences and wisdom, which may be lights and remembrances to you hereafter, to judge of all occurants both at home and abroad. Lastly, for the government, your end must not be like an intelligencer, to spend all your time in fi shing after the present news, humours, graces, or disgraces of court, which happily may change before you come home; but your better and more constant ground will be, to know the consanguinities, alliances, and estates of their Princes; proportion between the nobility and magistracy; the constitutions of their Courts of Justice; the State of the Laws, as well for the making as the execution thereof; how the sovereignty of the King infuseth itself into all acts and ordinances; how many ways they lay impositions and taxations, and gather revenues to the crown. What be the liberties and servitudes of all degrees; what discipline and preparations for wars; what invention for increase of traffi ck at home, for multiplying their commodities, encouraging arts and manufactures, or of worth in any 84 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals kind. Also what establishment, to prevent the necessities and discontentment of people, to cut off suits at law, and duels, to suppress thieves and all disorders. To be short, because my purpose is not to bring all your observations to heads, but only by these few to let you know what manner of return your friends expect from you; let me, for all these and all the rest, give you this one note. Which I desire you to observe as the counsels of a friend, not to spend your spirits, and the precious time of your travel, in a captious prejudice and censuring of all things, nor in an infectious collection of base vices and fashions of men and women, or general corruption of these times, which will be of use only among humorists, for jests and table-talk: but rather strain your wits and industry soundly to instruct yourself in all things between heaven and earth which may tend to virtue, wisdom, and honour, and which may make your life more profi table to your country, and your self more comfortable to your friends, and acceptable to God. And to conclude, let all these riches be reassure up, not only in your memory, where time may lessen your stock; but rather in good writings, and books of account, which will keep them safe for your use hereafter. And if in this time of your liberal traffi ck, you will give me any advertisement of your commodities in these kinds, I will make you as liberal a return form myself and your friends here, as I shall be able. And so commending all your good endeavours, to him that must either wither or prosper them, I very kindly bid you farewell. Yours to be commanded. Thomas Bodley.161,162

In France, the state of that church seemed to depend on the solo life of the King now reigning, being of a weak constitution, full of inﬁ rmities, not likely to have long life, and quite out of hope of any issue. Of the Duke of Anjou163 he did not assure himself; besides the opinion conceived of the weakness of the complexion of all that race, giving neither hope of length of life nor of children. The French King, of thirty years of age, of a very weak constitution, and full of inﬁ rmities; yet extremely given over to his wanton pleasure, having only delight in dancing, feasting, and entertaining ladies, and chamber-pleasure. No great wit, yet a comely behaviour and goodly personage; very poor, through exacting inordinately by all devices of his subjects; greatly repining that revenge and hungry

161 Reliquiæ Bodleianæ, 1703; original at Lambeth MSS. 936, fo. 218 162 Extract from Isaac Disraeli’s Curiosities of Literature, vol ii: “There is a curious passage in a letter of Sir Thomas Bodley, recommending to Sir Francis Bacon, then a young man on his travels, the mode by which he should make his life “proﬁ table to his country and his friends.” His expressions are remarkable. “Let all these riches be treasured up, not only in your memory, where time may lessen your stock, but rather in good writings and books of account, which will keep them safe for your use hereafter.” By these good writings and books of account, he describes the diaries of a student and an observer; these “good writings” will preserve what wear out in the memory, and these “books of account” render to a man an account of himself to himself.” 163 The Duke of Anjou was likely a homosexual, unattractive, twenty years Elizabeth’s youngest, making him an unsuited match for the Queen—See Felix Pryor: Elizabeth I: Her Life in Letters, 2003 for more on this account Lochithea 85

government. Abhorring wards and all action; yet daily works the ruin of those he hates as all of the religion and house of Bourbon.

In Italy, I did witness that the Duke of Tuscany, son to Cosmo, and the third Duke of that family and province; of the age of forty years, was of disposition severe and sad, rather than manly and grave; no princely port or behaviour more than a great justicer; inclined to peace, and gathering money. He retains in his service few, and they stranger, to whom he gives pensions. In all his citadels he has garrisons of Spaniards, except at Siena: in housekeeping spends little, being as it were in pension, agreeing for so much the near with a citizen of Florence for his diet: he has a small guard of Swissers, and when he rides abroad, a guard of forty light horsemen. The militia of his country amounts to forty thousand soldiers, to which he grants leave to wear their weapons on the holy day, and other immunities. Besides that, he entertains certain men of arms, to which he gives seven crowns a month. He also maintains seven galleys, which serve under his knights, erected by his father in Pisa, of the order of St. Stephano: of these galleys three go every year in chase. He exercises in a house called Cassino, in Florence, where he spends the most part of the day; giving ear in the mean reason to matters of affairs, and conferring with his chief offi cer. His revenues are esteemed to amount to a million and a half of crowns, of this spending half a million, he lays up yearly one million. But certainly he is the richest prince in all Europe of coin. As to the Duke of Ferrara, Alfonso d’Este, the fi fth Duke, now about forty years of age; his fi rst wife Lucretia, daughter to Cosmo de’Medici, whom they say he poisoned; to Mantua William, of the house of Consaga, the third Duke of Mantua; himself very deformed and crook-backed, well in years. Divers of his house has pension always, and serves the King of Spain; his brother the Duke de Nevers remains in France. He only seeks to maintain his estate and enrich himself; his greatest pleasure is in horses and building. Now for the Duke of Urbin, Francesco Maria, of the house of Roveré, the second of that name; a Prince of good behaviour and witty. In his state are seven reasonable fair cities: Pessaro, Augubio, Sinigaglia, Fossombrone, Sanleio, Cagli, Urbino. He holds three provinces, Montefeltro, Massa Trebaria, and Vicariato di Mondavio. His wife Leonora, sister to the Duke of Ferrara, by whom he has no children, and now is divorced. On to the Duke of Savoy, Carolo Emanuel, a young Prince of twenty-one years, very little of stature, but well brought up and disposed. Richly left of his father, who was accounted a very wise Prince. This Duke, as is thought, is advised to remain always indifferent between Spain and France, being neighbour to them both, unless some accident do counsel him to declare himself in behalf of either. His revenues are judged to be a million of crowns yearly; he is now in arms against Geneva, and guarded against Bern. Of free estates, Lucca the least is under the protection of the King of Spain: small in territory; the city itself well fortifi ed and provided, because of the doubt they have of the Duke of Florence. Genoa is recommended to the King of Spain; their galleys serve under him, and the chiefest of their city are at his devotion. The King of Spain has great need of their friendship. For their ports, where embark and land all men. And whatsoever sent between Spain and Milan. They hold Corsica an island, and Savona a fair city, and the goodliest in 86 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Italy, until it was destroyed by the Genevois; the which now make no profession but of merchandise. Venice retaining still the ancient form of government, is always for itself in like estate and all one; at this time between the Turk and the King of Spain, in continual watch, seeming to make more account of France, not so much in hope of any great affi ance at this present to be had in him, but for the reputation of that nation, and the amity always they have had with the same, and behoving them so to do. In this it seems all the potentates of Italy do agree to let all private grudges give place to foreign invasion, more for doubt of alteration in religion than for any other civil cause. There is none among them at this day in any likelihood to grow to any greatness. For Venice is bridled by the Turk and Spain. The Duke of Tuscany seeks rather title than territory, otherwise than by purchasing. Savoy is yet young. The rest of no great force of themselves. The Emperor Rodolphe of the house of Austriche, son to Maximilian, about thirty years of age; no strong constitution of body, and greatly weakened by immoderate pleasure; no great quickness of spirit. He was most governed by his mother while she remained with him; and yet altogether by his steward Dyetristan, and his great chamberlain Romphe, both pensionaries of Spain, and there with him maintained. Of the empire he has by the last imperial diet one million of dolars towards the maintenance of the garrisons of Hungary; and, besides, his guards are paid of the empire. To the Turk he pays yearly tribute for Hungary 40.000 dolars, besides the charge of the presents and his Ambassadors, amounting to more than the tribute; in all 100.000 dolars. The revenues of Bohemia, ordinary and extraordinary, amount to 50.000 dolars. Of his subjects greatly misliked, as his house is hateful to all Germany. The Archduke Charles holds Stiria and Carinthia; his chief abode is at Gratz. On a personal purpose, whilst my stay in the city of Ticinum,164 in Italy, I visit a church that hath windows only from above: it is in length an hundred feet, in breadth twenty feet, and in height near fi fty; having a door in the midst. It reporteth the voice twelve or thirteen times, if you stand by the close end-wall over ’gainst the door. The echo fadeth, and dieth by little and little, as the echo at Pont-Charenton doth. The voice soundeth as if it came from above the door. And if you stand at the lower end, or on either side of the door, the echo holdeth; but if you stand in the door, or in the midst just over ’gainst the door, not.165 Out, out, brief candle; a fi gure in black prays.

In Germany divers princes diversly affected. The elector Palatine Ludovic, a Lutheran; his chief abode is at Heidelberg. His brother, John Casimyre, Calvinist, at Keiserslautern or Nieustadt and many other princes of Germany not worth including at this point.

In Spain, the King, Philip, son to Charles V., about sixty years of age, a Prince of great understanding, subtle and aspiring, diligent and cruel. He possess the one half of Italy, comprehending Sicily and Sardinia, with Naples and Milan; the which estates do yield him little other proﬁ t, save the maintenance of so many Spaniards as he keeps there always.

164 Pavia 165 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century viii. (794) Lochithea 87

To Portugal and D. Antonio, elect King, thrust out by the King of Spain, of forty-ﬁ ve years of age, a mild spirit, sober and discreet: he is now in France, where he has levied soldiers, whereof part are embarked, hoping by the favour of that King, and the good will the Portugals, do bear him, to be restored again.

To Poland and its King, Stephen Batoaye, a Baron of Hungary, by the favour of the Turk chosen King of the Pollacks, after the escape made by the French King; a Prince of the greatest value and courage of any at this day, of competent years, sufﬁ cient wisdom, the which he has showed in the siege of Danske, and the wards with the Moscovite. He toler- ates all religions; himself heareth the mass, but is not thought to be a Papist: he had a great part of his education in Turke, after served the last Emperor.

To Denmark and Frederic II., of forty-eight years, King of Denmark and Norway; the chiefest about him, Nicolas Cose his chancellor, in whose counsel he dose much repose. He has always 800 horse about his Court, to whom he gives ten dolars the month. His navy of six great ships of 1.500 ton, and ﬁ fteen smaller, ten galleys with sail to pass the Straits.

To Sweden and John, King, son of Gustavus. He is advised by no council, but governeth altogether like a tyrant. Religion nearest the Greek Church, full of supersition and idolatry.

Dr. Dee did speak these words: he hath dreamed of his death, and afterward his bowels taken out; he walked and talked with diverse, and among other with the Lord Treasurer who was come to his house to burn his books when he was dead, and thought he looked sourly on him. It may well appear that Dr. Dee overshoots for his books, howsoever he causes his dreams and noises in his chambers to be on the appearance of the sun that hath crept in between the day of Christ his birth regarding the place of the sun, and which a civil equation, but mathematically and religiously to be substantiated to be for the true term of the periods of annual revolutions of the sun since the day of Christ his birth.166 A successful sweep hath been organised: a general Act in punishing the vagrant has been applied since 1572; therefore, stateth uncle Burghley, a net over a hundred rogues of whom only twelve come from London.167 My self should be included to allow for thirteen vagrants who come from London; my European journey thoroughly gnaws my pockets; I try consoling myself: riches are a good handmaid, but the worst mistress.168 ’Tis time: I graduate from Gray’s Inn and am called upon to the Bar as Utter Barrister of Gray’s Inn. There is an aghast publication of a virulent attack upon the Earl of Leicester, his licentious life and unbridled ambitions that arrive in England. The publication ﬁ rst appears abroad, and is promptly attributed to the Jesuits, prominent Romish religious

166 Halliwell: The Private Diary of Dr. John Dee, 1842 167 See Liza Picard: Elizabeth’s London, 2003 168 Francis Bacon: The Dignity and Advancement of Learning, book vi 88 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals orders, founded by Ignatius Loyola,169 bound to the Pope directly by oath as well as to the church. Her Majesty stigmatises the writer as an incarnate devil, uses every means to prevent its introduction into England, and failing in that, requires her Council to contradict the book’s assertion as utterly false, within her personal knowledge. Table-talk with Dr. Dee and Mr. Philips of the Court doth produce nothing.170 Despite all this powerful antagonism, copies of the work is smuggled into England and circulated with the entitle- ment, The Copy of a Letter written by a Master of Art of Cambridge to his Friend in London.171

* The Northumberland Manuscript172 “This manuscript contains a little less than half of this celebrated political pamphlet; about fourteen folios are missing from the beginning, and a similar in number at the end. An ornamental border surrounds the title page. It was immediately translated into French and Latin, and reprinted in both languages. It circulated in England extensively in manuscript, and was reprinted in 1641 without a printer’s name or place of publication. There has been preserved in the Public Record Offi ce, a letter to the Wardens of the Company of Stationers, dated October 13, 1641, in which the writer, Edward Nicholas, states:—“I hear there is now printing at one Dawson’s, a printer in Thames Street, a book called Leicester’s Commonwealth, which I am told is very scandalous to divers of the Lord’s ancestors, and a book unfi t to be divulged. I pray give order forthwith to stay the printing or dispersing of any of those books until the Lords of Parliament or the Lords of the Council shall meet.” It is to be presumed that this was done, but the result was that other printers, who succeeded in getting copies into the market, reprinted it. Thus there are three editions dated 1641, one of which-the suppressed copy-is much rarer than the others. The fi rst edition, although printed on the Continent, must have had a considerable circulation in England, for the Queen in Council on June 20th, 1585, found it necessary to repudiate its assertions. In a letter addressed to the Magistrates of Cheshire she writes:—“Her Highness not only knoweth to assured certainty the books and libels against the said Earl to be most malicious, false and scandalous, and such as none but an incarnate devil himself could dream to be true.” The authorship of the pamphlet has never been settled. At the time of publication, and for some years afterwards, it was attributed to Robert Parsons, the Jesuit missionary and controversialist, so much so that it was

169 Ignatius Loyola (1491–1556) belonged to a noble Biscayan family; was page to Ferdinand and Isabella in his youth. He was severely wounded in 1521 whilst ﬁ ghting the French, and during his convalescence he read himself into a state of mystical devotion, in which he renounced the world—Encyclopaedia Britannica 170 Halliwell: The Private Diary of Dr. John Dee, 1842 171 See Arthur B. Cornwall: Francis I. of England, 1936 172 Northumberland Manuscript in reference to this copy of work stated above and being later known as LEYCESTER’S COMMONWEALTH. MS. Folio 63–90—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) for the complete manuscript Lochithea 89

colloquially termed by his contemporaries, “Father Parson’s Green coat.” This was in allusion to the somewhat unusual colour of the binding and edges of the book. It is interesting to note that one of the two copies preserved in the British Museum, still retains the colour upon its edges. The second copy (the Grenville) has, however, been recently rebound, and mirabile dicfu, the edges have been carefully gilt, and the distinctive feature of the work destroyed. A letter has been preserved in the manuscript collections of William Cole, now in the British Museum, in which the authorship of the book is discussed. It is addressed to the Rev. Dr. Mosse, at Gray’s Inn, and signed C. A. Internal evidence is adduced to prove that Parsons could not have written the work, and Dr. Mosse notes upon the back of the letter that “Parsons, many years after the death of Leicester denies himself to be author of it. In short the author is very uncertain, and for any thing that appears in it, it may as well be a Protestant’s, as a Papist’s. I should rather think it the work of some subtle courtier, who, for safety got it printed abroad, and sent into England under the name of Parsons. It has been thought well to reprint the whole of the pamphlet. The missing portions and the side notes are taken from the quarto edition of 1641.”173

The Epistle Directory To M. G. M. In Gratious Street in London. Dear and Loving Friend. I received about ten days agone your letter of the 9, of this present: wherein you demand and solicit again the thing, that I so fl atly denied you, at my late being in your chamber: I mean, to put in writing the relation which then I made unto you, of the speech had this last Christmas in my presence, between my right worshipful good friend and patron, and his guest the old lawyer, of some matters in our state and country. And for that you press me very seriously at this instant, both by request and many reasons, to yield to your desire herein, and not only this, but also to give my consent for the publishing of the same, by such secret means as you assure me you can there fi nd out: I have thought good to confer the whole matter with the parties themselves, whom principally it concerneth (who at the receipt of your letter were not far from me:) And albeit at the fi rst, I found them averse and nothing inclined to grant your demand: yet after upon consideration of your reasons, and assurance of secrecy: (especially for that there is nothing in the same contained, repugnant to charity or to our bounden duty toward our most gracious Princes or country, but rather for the special good of them both, and for the forewarning of some dangers imminent to the same) they have referred over the matter to me, yet with this Proviso, that they will know nothing, nor yet yield consent to the publishing hereof, for fear of some future fl ourish of the ragged staff to come hereafter about their ears, if their names should break forth: which (I trust) you will provide, shall never happen, both for their security, and for your own. And with this I will end, assuring you that within these fi ve or six days, you shall receive the whole in writing by an other way and secret means,

173 Only the Epistle Directory is added here from Spedding, Works, vol. i. p. 47–56 90 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals neither shall the bearer suspect what he carrieth: whereof also I thought good to premon- ish you. And this shall sufﬁ ce for this time.174

* Of Proportion in fi gure of Poesies:175 “Your last proportion is that of fi gure, so called for that it yields an ocular representation, your meters being by good symmetry reduced into certain Geometrical fi gures, whereby the maker is restrained to keep him within his bounds, and sheweth not only more art, but serveth also much better for briefness and subtitle of device. And for the same respect are also fi ttest for the pretty armourers in Court to entertain their servants and the time withal, their delicate wits requiring some commendable exercise to keep them from idleness. I fi nd not of this proportion, used by any of the Greek or Latin Poets, or in any vulgar writer, saving of that one form which they call Anacreens egg. But being in Italy conversant with a certain gentleman, who had long travailed the Oriental parts of the world, and seen the Courts of the great Princes of China and Tartarie. I being very inquisitive to know of the subtillities of those countries, and especially in matter of learning and of their vulgar Poesie, he told me that they are in all their inventions most witty, and have the use of Poesie or riming, but do not delight so much as we do in long tedious descriptions, and therefore when they will utter any pretty conceit, they reduce it into metrical feet, and put it in form of a Lozange or square, or such other fi gure, and so engraven in gold, silver, or ivory, and sometimes with letters of amethyst, ruby, emerald or topaz curiously cemented and pieced together, they send them in chains, bracelets, collars and girdles to their mistresses to wear for a remembrance. Some few measures composed in this sort this gentleman gave me, which I translated word for word and as near as I could followed both the phrase and the fi gure, which is somewhat hard to perform, because of the restraint of the fi gure from which ye may not digress. At the beginning they will seem nothing pleasant to an English ear, but time and usage will make them acceptable enough, as it doth in all other new guises, be it for wearing of apparel or otherwise. The forms of your Geometrical fi gures be hereunder represented: the Lozange, called Rhombus (diamond); the Fuzzy or spindle, called Rhomboids (narrow diamond); the Triangle or Tricquet (pyramid); the Square or quadrangle (square); the Pilaster

174 Ignatius Donnelly: The Great Cryptogram, vol. i, 1888: “While we fi nd this association of the two names in Bacon’s library and private papers, there is not one word in his published writings or his correspondence to show that he knew that such a being as William Shakspere ever existed.” [During my fi ve year research, I came across a pamphlet written by Franklin H. Head entitled Shakespeare’s Insomnia, And The Causes Thereof published in 1887. In this pamphlet are alleged original letters written to William Shakespeare by various authors; amongst them, Francis Bacon. It is supposed that the Southampton Shakespeare Collection of 1609 in the British Museum, is from the possessions of the Earl of Southampton whereupon his death, the manuscripts were discovered in the dungeon of the castle. I have been in touch with several Baconians regarding the existence of these manuscripts but I am still left with doubts as to whether they exist or are genuine. I intend to track down this collection in the summer of 2007; any further result shall be added as an addendum in these Journals.] 175 George Puttenham: The Arte of English Poesie, 1589 Lochithea 91 or Cylinder (tall rectangle); the Spire or taper, called Pyramis (tall pyramid);176 the Rondel or Sphere (circle); the egg or fi gure oval (vertical egg); the Tricquet reverse (triangle); the Tricquet displayed (hour-glass); the Taper reversed (narrow triangle); the Rondel displayed (half circle upon the other half); the Lozange reversed (wide diamond <>); the Egg displayed (half oval upon the other half); the Lozange rabbated (hexagon).

* For quiet days, Dr. Dee delivereth his book to the Lord Treasurer upon correction of the Calendar; a work on a plain discourse and humble advise for our gracious Queen Elizabeth her most excellent Majesty to peruse and consider, as concerning the needful reformation of the vulgar Calendar for the civil years and days accompting, or verifying, according to the time truly spent. Dr. Dee ascribes it to the Right Honourable and my singular good Lord, the Lord Burghley, Lord Treasurer of England, at which this verse pleaseth:177

To ότι καί το διότη [Of that and of why] I shew the thing and reason why; At large, in brief, in middle wise, I humbly give a plain advise; For want of time, the time untrue If I have mist, command anew Your honour may. So shall you see That love of truth doth govern me

The stage at Paris garden falls down all at once, being full of people beholding the bear- baiting. Many are killed thereby, more hurt, and all amazed. The godly expound it as a due plague of God for the wickedness there used, and the Sabbath day so profanely spent.178 Not a frown further be Spenser, entailed in some services of the noble; her Majesty receives a letter from James VI., of Scotland: “I have stayed Mister Spenser upon the letter; quill is written with my own hand; quill shall be ready within two days.”179

176 A favourite proportion of ﬁ gure used by Lord Bacon. The long word honoriﬁ cabilitudinitatibus has been seen in the Shakespeare play Love’s Labour’s Lost, and also in a pyramid form amongst Francis Bacon’s papers (British Library) 177 Halliwell, in his The Private Diary of Dr. John Dee published in 1842: “This work, although never entirely printed, created much sensation at the time, and was the cause of considerable controversy among the politicians as well as literati. The Memorial on this subject which Dee presented to the Privy Council has been printed by Hearne and others, but it is not generally known that the original manuscript of the actual treatise on the correction of the Calendar is still preserved in Ashmole’s library, No. 1789, and is the very book which Dee alludes to.” 178 Halliwell: The Private Diary of Dr. John Dee, 1842 179 John W. Hales: A Biography of Edmund Spenser, 1896 92 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

’Tis Sir Humphrey Gilbert that bringeth good tiding unto her Majesty, who will be so gracious to lend him £10,000, and sail for the Newfoundland with Edward Hayes, commander of The Golden Hind.180 Of Dorset, there happens no less strange a sight than did in Hertfordshire of the year 1571: a piece of earth, three acres in Blackmore removed out place with trees and hedges, and went over other land, leaving a mighty pit, and stopping up an high way leading to Cerne. The sight methinks happened through such a boisterous wind under ground, wherewith Seneca writeth that the heads of the gods were turned backward in Jupiter’s couch; or of much moisture, the springs boiling up plentifully, considering that the ground lay upon a shelving hill.181 To my poor cell do I receive an invitation to visit John Napier in Scotland; my fl ight leaveth behind the poisonous air of the plague as Thomas Coghan catalogues from his Haven of Health: The air of that place varieth from natural temperature, declining to heat and moisture, when it seemeth cloudy and dusty; when the winds are gross and hot; when the waters and fi elds smoke and smell; and the fi shes are ill both in savour and taste; when many worms breed of putrefaction of the earth; toad stools and rotten herbs abound; the fruits and beasts of the earth are unsavoury; the wines become muddy; many birds and beasts fl y from that place, strange ages arise, raging continual, burning, frantic, when the smallpox, and measles are rife, and worms abound in children and old folks.182 Scotland is a potent redeemer; John Napier, on his testament, appears to be conversing with the stars as shall Dr. Richard Napier converse with Angel Raphael, and so tells him if his patient may be cured or not.183 My stay in Scotland is for some time upon these extraordinary accounts John Napier doth make of Dr. Napier; whereunto an arrival cometh one Henry Briggs,184 mathematician; his ideas of logarithms, calculations and a table of how to fi nd the height of the pole and a tract on the North-West passage to the south sea through the continent of Virginia, maketh him very much spoken of. Back in London, I fi rst take seat in the House of Commons, which is the lower House of Parliament, as Member for Weymouth and Melcombe Regis upon the time that in France, Francis Duke of Anjou dies of sickness which he fell into, through anguish of mind.185 I take upon this, an advantage, and address the House with a letter of advice to Queen Elizabeth, strongly advising some toleration of the Catholics, whom I would only require to swear that they would bear arms ’gainst any foreign Prince, or the Pope, who should invade England:

180 See Edward Hayes: Sir Humphrey Gilbert’s Voyage to Newfoundland, 1910 181 William Camden: Diaries 182 Daniel Defoe: A Journal of the Plague Year, 1894 183 (a) John Napier (1550–1617) mathematician, who made important contribution to the advance of astronomy and other branches of science by his invention of logarithms, published in 1614. (b) Dr. Richard Napier (1559–1634) astrologer under the guidance of Simon Forman, an astrologer and charlatan physician 184 Henry Briggs (1561–1630) 185 William Camden: Diaries Lochithea 93

Letter of Advice to Queen Elizabeth Most Gracious Sovereign, And Most Worthy To Be A Sovereign. Care, one of the natural and true-bred children of unfeigned affection, awaked with these late wicked and barbarous attempts, would needs exercise my pen to your sacred Majesty, encouraging me not only therewith that it would take the whole faults of boldness upon itself, but also that even the words should not doubt to appear in your Highness’ presence in their kindly rudeness, for that if your Majesty with your voice did vouchsafe to read them, that very reading would give them the grace of eloquence. Therefore laying aside all self-guilty conceits of ignorance, knowing that the sun is not angry with the well-meaning astronomers though they hap to miss his course, I will with the same sincerity display my humble conceits, wherewith my life shall be among the foremost to defend the blessing which God in you hath bestowed upon us. As far then, dread Sovereign, as I may judge, the happiness of your present estate can no way be encumbered by your strong factious subjects and our foreign enemies. Your strong factious subjects be the Papists: strong I account them, because both in number they are at the least able to make a great army, and by their mutual confi dence and intelligence may soon bring to pass an uniting: factious I call them, because they are discontented;—of whom in all reason of state your Majesty must determine, if you suffer them to be strong, to make them better content, or if you will discontent them, to make them weaker: for what the mixture of strength and discontentment engender, needs no syllogisms to prove. To suffer them to be strong, with hope that with reason they will be contented, carries with it in my opinion but a fair enamelling of a terrible danger. For fi rst, man’s nature being not only to strive against a present smart but to revenge a passed injury, though they be never so well contented hereafter, what can be a suffi cient pledge to your Majesty but that, when opportunity shall fl atter them, they will remember not the after-slacking but the former binding? So much the more as they will imagine this relenting rather to proceed from fear than favour; which is the poison of all government, when the subject thinks the Prince doth anything for fear. And therefore the Romans would rather abide the uttermost extremities than by their subjects to be brought to any conditions. Again, to make them contented absolutely, I do not see how your Majesty either in conscience will do it or in policy may do it, since you cannot thoroughly content them but that you must of necessity thoroughly discontent your faithful subjects: and to fasten a reconciled love with the loosing of a certain, is to build houses with the sale of lands. So much the more in that your Majesty is embarked into the Protestant cause, as in many respects by your Majesty it cannot with safety be abandoned, they having been so long the only instrument both of your counsel and power. To make them half-content, half-discontent, methinks carries with it as deceitful a shadow of reason, since there is no pain so small but if we can we will cast it off; and no man loves one the better for giving him a bastinado with a little cudgel. But the course of the most wise, most politic, and best governed estates hath even been either to make an assuredness of friendship or to take away all power of enmity. 94 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Yet here must I distinguish between discontentment and despair: for it suffi ceth to weaken the discontented; but there is no way but to kill and desperate, which in such a number as they are, were as hard and diffi cult as impious and ungodly. And therefore though they must be discontented, yet I would not have them desperate: for among many desperate men, it is like some one will bring forth a desperate attempt. Therefore considering that the urging of the oath must needs in some degree beget despair, since therein he must either think as without the especial grace of God he cannot think, or else become a traitor, which before some act done seems somewhat hard, I humbly submit this to your excellent consideration, whether, with as much security of your Majesty’s person and state, and more satisfaction of them, it were not better to frame the oath to this sense: that whosoever would not bear arms against all foreign Princes, and namely the Pope, that should any way invade your Majesty’s dominions, he should be a traitor. For hereof this commodity would ensue; that those Papists, as I think most Papists would, that did take this oath, should be divided from that great mutual confi dence which now is betwixt the Pope and them, by reason of their affl iction for him. And such priests as would refuel that oath, no tongue could say for shame did suffer for religion. And whereas it may be objected that they would dissemble, so might they then dissemble in the present oath; or that the Pope would then dispense with them in that case, and so might he now likewise dispense with them in this present oath. But this is certain, that whom the conscience or fear of breaking of an oath doth bind, him would that oath bind. And that they make conscience of an oath, the trouble, losses, and disgraces that they suffer for refusing the same do suffi ciently testify; and you know the perjury of either oath is equal. So then the furthest point to be sought of their contentment being but to avoid their despair, how to weaken their discontentment is the next consideration. Weakened they may be by two means, the fi rst whereof is by lessening their number, the second by taking away from them their force. Their number will easily be lessened by the means of careful and diligent preachers in each parish to that end appointed, and especially by good schoolmasters and bringers up of their youth; the former by converting them after their fall, the later by preventing the same. For preachers, because thereon grows a great question, I am provoked to lay at your Highness’ feet my opinion touching the preciser sort; fi rst protesting to God Almighty and your sacred Majesty that I am not given over, nor so much as addicted, to their preciseness; therefore till I think that you think otherwise, I am bold to think that the bishops in this dangerous time take a very evil and unadvised course in driving them from their cures; and that for two causes. First because it doth discredit the reputation and estimation of your power, when other Princes shall perceive and know, that even in your Protestant subjects. In whom all your force and strength and power consisteth, there is so great and heart-burning a division;— and how much reputation swayeth in these and all other worldly actions there is nobody so simple as to be ignorant; and the Papists themselves, though there be most manifest and apparent discords and dissensions between the Franciscans and the Dominicans, the Jesuits and all other orders of religious person, especially the Benedictines, yet will they shake off neither, because in the main points of Popery they agree and hold together, and so may Lochithea 95 they freely brag and vaunt them of their unity. The other reason is, because in truth, in their opinions though they are somewhat over-squeamish and nice, and more scrupulous than they need, yet with their careful catechising and diligent preaching they bring forth that fruit which your most excellent Majesty is to wish and desire; namely, the lessening and diminishing of the Papistical number. And therefore in this time your gracious Majesty hath especial cause to use and employ them, it were by as Frederick II., that excellent Emperor, did use and employ Saracen soldiers against the Pope, because he was well assured and certainly knew that they only would not spare his sanctity. And for those objections, what they would do when they got once a full and entire authority in the church, methinks are inter remota et incerta mala, [between things to be rejected and uncertainties] and therefore vicina et certa [vicinity and surety] to be fi rst considered. As for schoolmasters, the lamentable and pitiful abuses of whom are easy to be seen, since the greatest number of Papists is of very young men, your Majesty may use therein not only a pious and Godly mean in making the parents of each shire to send their children to be virtuously and religiously brought up at a certain place for that end appointed; but you shall also, it please your Majesty, put in practice a notable stratagem used by Sertorius in Spain, which coming to my mind I am bold to present to your Majesty, by choosing such fi r and convenient places for the same as may surely be at your devotion; and by this means you shall, under colour of education, have them as hostages of all the parents’ fi delity that have any power in England. And by these ways will their number be lessened: for no way do I account death to lessen or diminish them: since we fi nd by experience that death works no such effects, but that, like Hydra’s heads, upon one cut off, seven grow up; persecution being ever accounted as the badge of the church; and therefore they should never have the honour to take any pretence of martyrdom, especially in England, where the fullness of blood and greatness of heart is such that they will even for shameful things go bravely to death, much more when they think they climb heaven; and that vice of obstinacy proximi- tate boni, [nearness of excellence] seems to the common people a divine constancy. But for my part, I wish no lessening of their number but by preaching. The taking away of their force is as well of peace authority as of war provision. Their peace authority standeth either in Offi ces or Tenantries. For their Offi ces, their credit will soon quail if order be taken that from their highest counsellor to the lowest constable, none have any charge but such as will pray and communicate according to the doctrine received generally in the realm. For their Tenantries, this conceit I have thought upon, which I submit to your far further piercing judgement, that your Majesty in every shire should give strict order to some that are indeed trusty and religious gentlemen, that where as your Majesty are given to understand that divers Popish landlords do hardly use all such of your people and subjects as being their tenants do embrace and live after the authorized and true religion; that therefore you do constitute and appoint them to deal both with entreaty and authority, that paying as others do, they be not thrust out of their livings nor otherwise unreasonably molested. This care will greatly bind the Commons’ hearts unto you, on whom indeed the power and strength of your Realm of England consisteth, and it will make them much the less or nothing at all depend upon their landlords. And although thereby may grow 96 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals some wrong that the tenants upon that confi dence may offer unto their landlords, yet those wrongs are very easily even with one wink of yours redressed, and are nothing comparable to the danger of having so many thousands depend upon the adverse party. Their war provision I account men and ammunition; of whom, in sum, I would wish that no one man, either great or small, should so much as be trained up in your musters, except his parishioners would answer for him that he orderly and duly received the Communion; and for munition not one should have or keep in his house so much as a halbert without the same condition. And then your Majesty may set your heart at rest, that one thousand of your Protestant subjects will make ten thousand, yea twenty thousand, of them, untrained and unfurnished, to do such services, even against themselves, as you shall appoint. Yet should they contribute as much; nay, if such order were taken that, considering they should not be put to the pain of mustering and training, that therefore their contribution should be more narrowly looked into, it would breed a chilliness unto their fervour of superstition; especially in popular solutions, who if they love Egypt, it is chiefl y for the fl eshpot. So that methinks this temper should well agree with your wisdom and the mercifulness of your nature. For, as compel them you would not, kill them you would not, so in reason trust them you would not; trust being in no case to be claimed but where the trusted is of one mind with the trusting; reason ever commanding every wise man to fl y and avoid that evil shamefacedness which the Greeks call dysopia, which is, not to seem to doubt them who give just occasion of doubt. That ruined Hercules, son to the great Alexander: for although he had most manifest reasons and evident arguments to induce him to suspect his old servant Polyperchon, yet out of the confi dence he had of him and the experience he had had of his former loyalty, he would not make provision accordingly, because he would not seem so much as to misdoubt or suspect him, and so by that means he was murthered by him. But this is the knot of this discourse, that if your Majesty fi nd it reasonable, of the one side by relenting the rigour of the oath, and of the other by disabling the unsound, you shall neither execute any but very traitors in all men’s constructions and opinions, nor yet put faith and confi dence in those that even for their own sakes must be faithful. The second point remains; which is of your foreign enemies. Your foreign enemies able and willing to hurt you, I account Scotland for his pretence and neighbourhood, and Spain for his religion and power. For as for France, I see not why it should not rather be made a friend than an enemy. For though he agree not with your Majesty in matter of conscience and religion, yet in hoc tertio [for the third time] he doth agree, that he fears the greatness of Spain; and therefore that may solder the link which religion hath broken, and make him hope by your Majesty’s friendship to secure himself of so potent and adversary. And though he were evil affected towards our Majesty, yet I do not think it greatly to be feared, considering the present condition of his estate; himself being a Prince who hath paid very dear assurances to the world that he loves his ease much better than victories; and a Prince that is not beloved nor feared of his people; and the people themselves being of a very light and inconstant disposition, and besides altogether unexperienced and undisciplined hot to do their duties either in war or peace; beginning or ready to begin and undertake any enterprise before they enter into an advised and deliberate consideration thereof, and yet weary of it before it be fully begun; generally poor and weak, and subject to sickness Lochithea 97 at sea; divided and subdivided into sundry heads and several factions, not only between Huguenots and Papist, but between the Memorianciers, Guiscardes, and Mignonins; the people oppressed by all and hating all:—so as truly in my opinion, for a well settled and established government and Commonwealth, as is your Majesty’s, why to misdoubt or fear them I see not; but only so far forth as the Guiscards may hap to serve for boute-feux in Scotland: and while it shall please your Majesty but with reasonable favour to support the King of Navarre, I do not think the French King will suffer you to be from thence annoyed. Therefore for France, your Majesty may assure yourself of one of these two, either to make with him a good alliance in respect of the common enemy of both Kingdoms, or at the least so to muzzle him, as that he shall have little power to bite you. As for Scotland, if your Majesty help those noblemen that are suspected by him form per- ishing, your Majesty may be sure of this; that while he is a Protestant no foreign Prince will thoroughly help him; and of himself you know he is not able much to harm or annoy you; and if in time he should grow to be a Papist, your Majesty shall always have a strong party at his own doors in his own Kingdom to bridle and restrain his malice, who, since they do depend upon your Majesty, are in all policy by the same never to be abandoned. For by that resolution the Romans anciently, and the Spaniards presently, have most of all prevailed; and on the contrary side, the Macedonians in times past, and the French in our age, have lost all without themselves, because of their aptness to neglect them who of them only depended. But if your Majesty could by any means possible devise to bring in again the Hambletons, he should then be stricken with his own weapon and should have daily more cause to look to his own succession. But Spain, Spain it is, in which, as I conceive, all causes do concur to give a just alarum to your excellent judgment. First, because in religion he is so much the Pope’s, and the Pope in policy so much his, as what the mind of Pope Gregory and the power of King Philip will or can compass or bring forth, is in all probability to be expected; himself being a Prince whose closet hast brought forth greater victories than all his fathers’ journeys, absolutely ruling his subjects, a people one-hearted in religion, constantly ambitious, politic, and valiant the King rich and liberal, and, which of all I like worst, beloved amongst all the discontented party of your subjects. A more lively proof whereof one could never see, than in the poor don Anthonio’s being here, who though he were as mass hungry a man as any liveth, yet did there not one Papist in England give him any good countenance, so factious affection is born to the other party. Of him therefore, as the chief cause of doubt is, so must the chief care be had of providence. But this offers a great question, to wit, whether it be better to procure his amity or stop the course of his enmity? As of a might lion whether it be more wisdom to trust to the taming or tying of him. I confess this requires a longer and larger discourse, and a better discourser than my self, and therefore I will stay my self from running over so large a fi eld, but only with the natural presumption of love yield this to your gracious consideration. First, if you have an intention of league, you see upon what assurance, or at least likelihood, you may trust that he will observe the same. Secondly, that in the parling season it be not as a countenance unto him the sooner to overthrow the Low Countries, which hitherto have been as a counterscarfe to your Majesty’s Kingdom. But if you do not league, then your Majesty is 98 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals to think of means for strengthening yourself and weakening him. Your own strength is to be tendered both at home and abroad. For your home-strength, with all reverence I leave it, as the thing, which contains in effect the universal consideration of government. For your strength aboard, it must be by joining in good confederacy, or at least intelligence, with those that would willingly embrace the same. Truly not so much as the Turk and the Moroccan but at a time may serve your Majesty to great purpose. But to Florence, Ferrara, and especially Venice, I think your Majesty might reap great service: for undoubtedly they fear and abhor the King of Spain’s greatness. And for these Dutch and northern Princes, being in effect of your Majesty’s religion, I cannot think but that their alliance may be fi rm, and their power not to be contemned; even countenance of united powers doing much in matters of estate. For the weakening of him, I could, I must confess, from my heart wish that your Majesty did not spare it, thoroughly and manifestly both upon his Indies and Low Countries, which would give themselves unto you, and rather take him now when he hath one hand bound, than when he shall have both hands free and both sharply weaponed. But if this seem foolish-hardy to your Majesty’s wisdom, yet do I not presume to counsel, by humbly beseech your Majesty, that what stay without war your Majesty can give to the Low Countries, you vouchsafe to do it: since as King of Spain, without the Low Countries, he may trouble our skirts of Ireland, but can never come to grab with you; but if he once reduce the Low Countries to an absolute subjection, I know not what limits any man of judgment can set unto his greatness. Divers ways are not to be tried: among the rest one, not of the worst in my opinion, might be, to seek either the winning of the Prince of Parma from the King of Spain, or at the least to have it handled so as a jealousy thereof might rise between them; as Pope Clement did by the notable Marquis of Pescara: for he practised with him with offering the Kingdom of Naples, not so much with hope to win him, as to make his master suspect him. For when I consider that he is a Roman of blood, a Prince born, placed in the place he hath by don John, and maintained in it by the malcontents, whereunto the King hath rather yielded of necessity tan was an author: lastly when I remember the citadel of Piacenza kept by the Spaniards, and the apparent title of his son Ranuccio to the crown or Portugal, things hardly to be digested by an Italian stomach, I cannot see how such a mind in such a fortune can sell itself to a foreign servitude. The manner of dealing should be by some man of spirit with the Venetian Ambassador in Paris, and afterwards with his own father in Italy, both, which are in their hearts mortal enemies of the greatness of Spain. But these sheets of paper bear witness against me of having offered too tedious a discourse to your Majesty; divers of which points yet, as of the mitigating of the oath, the school- hostages, the heartening of tenants, and the dealing with this Prince, would require a more ample handling. But it is fi rst reason to know whether your Majesty like of the stuff, before it be otherwise trimmed. For my self, as I will then only love my opinions when your Majesty likes them, so will I daily pray that opinions may be guided with as much faith to your Majesty, and then followed with infi nite success. Fra. Bacon. Lochithea 99

Dr. Dee hath taken the pains to return from Prague; at seven and ﬁ fty years his faculties are sound and impressive upon his discovery overseas as we shall see further; per as Anthony, on his persistence to remain longer unto the continent, hath great economical need; his decision to mortgage estates compel me into writing out a deed:

Deed Of Authority Be it known to all men by these presents, that I, Anth. Bacon, of Gorhambury, in the county of Hartford, Esq., have made and constituted my well beloved ( ) my true and lawful Attorneys in this behalf, that is to say, to bargain, sell, aliene, and assure, and also to let and demise any my lands, tenements, reversions, remainders, leases, rents, and woods, within the Realm of England, to such persons, at such prices, and with such war- ranties, covenants, reservations, limitations, conditions, and bonds collateral as they shall think good; as also to levy, receive, employ, and dispose all such sums of money as shall come to their hands upon such bargains, alienations, demises, or any the means aforesaid, unto my use at their liking and discretion, and upon account to me to be thereof made. And to this end I do authorize my said Attorneys, for me and in my name, or in their own name, by virtue of these presents, to make any writing or deed, and the same to seal, deliver, or enroll, to levy and knowledge any ﬁ ne, to sue or suffer any recovery, to make any livery of seisin, to make or knowledge any bond, recognisance, or statute, as also to take and receive any deed, knowledge, or assurance to mine use, or any sums of money, and thereof to give acquittance, and to ordain my person my Attorney for to sue or to be sued, lease or recover, or to execute any act concerning the premises. And also I do authorize my said Attorneys to bring, use, sue forth, and pursue any action, suit, claim, or remedy against or towards any person, which may grow by occasion of any such alienation or any the matters aforesaid, and to do, perform, and execute all acts and things which may be requisite for the alienation or demise of my said lands or other the premises, or for the receiving or employing of the money thereof to grow and be; giving and granting to my said Attorneys my full power and authority by these presents to do and execute all and singular the premises as fully, lawfully, and surely, and in as large and ample manner as I the said Anth. Bacon mought or could have done. And this my authority I will and grant shall continue unto them until my return into the Realm of England, and after that, until such time as I shall by my deed and declaration in writing call back the same. And I do further covenant with my said Attorneys by no act to revoke, interrupt, or make void this my authority or any parts thereof until my said return, anti then to make good, ratify, and strengthen, by any assurance on their part reasonably to be devised, all and every act which they shall lawfully perform and do by the virtue of this my deed. In witness whereof I have set to my hand and seal: such a place, such a day and year. The sum had need be three thousand pounds in respect of the collateral penalties they may enter into. The condition followeth: The condition of this obligation is such that whereas the above bounden Ant. Bacon hath by his deed bearing date constituted and made the above-named ( ) his true and lawful Attorneys to sell, let, and demise his lands and other his interests, and to do many other acts as in the same deed more plainly doth appear; Now therefore if the said 100 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

( ) his Attorneys, for the better performing and executing of any the acts whereunto they shall be by his said deed enabled and authorized, shall enter into any bonds, statutes, covenants, mortgages, in their own name and right, if then the said Anth. Bacon shall sufﬁ ciently discharge and save harmless the said from the said bonds or other the premises, and from all actions, suits, and molestations by reason or concerning the same, that then this obligation shall be void and of none effect, or else to stand in full strength.

Francis Bacon Essay LIII. Of Praise. Praise is the refl exion of virtue. But it is as the glass or body which giveth the refl exion. If it be from the common people, it is commonly false and naught; and rather followeth vain persons than virtuous. For the common people understand not many excellent virtues. The lowest virtues draw praise from the middle virtues work in them astonishment or admiration; but of the highest virtues they have no sense of perceiving at all. But shews, and species virtutibus similes, serve best with them. Certainly fame is like a river that beareth up things light and swollen, and drowns things weighty and solid. But if persons of quality and judgment concur, then it is (as the Scripture saith), Nomen bonum instar unguenti fragrantis; [a good name like unto a sweet ointment.] It fi lleth all round about, and will not easily away. For the odours of ointments are more durable than those of fl owers. There be so many false points of praise, that a man may justly hold it a suspect. Some praises proceed merely of fl attery; and if he be an ordinary fl atterer, he will have certain common attributes, which may serve every man; if he be a cunning fl atterer, he will follow the arch-fl atterer, which is a man’s self; and wherein a man thinketh best of himself, therein the fl atterer will uphold him most: but if he be an impudent fl atterer, look wherein a man is conscious to himself that he is most defective, and is most out of countenance in himself, that will the fl atterer entitle him to perforce, spretâ conscientiâ [contempt conscious.] Some praises come of good wishes and respects, which is a form due in civility to Kings and great persons, laudando prœcipere; when by telling men what they are, they represent to them what they should be. Some men are praised maliciously to their hurt, thereby to stir envy and jealousy towards them; pessimum genus inimicorum laudantium; [the worst kind of enemies are they that praise;] insomuch as it was a proverb amongst the Grecians, that he that was praised to his hurt, should have a push rise upon his nose; as we say, that a blister will rise upon one’s tongue that tells a lie. Certainly moderate praise, used with opportunity, and not vulgar, is that which doth the good. Salomon saith, He that praiseth his friend aloud, rising early, it shall be to him no better than a curse. Too much magnifying of man or matter doth irritate contradiction, and procure envy and scorn. To praise a man’s self cannot be decent, except it be in rare cases; but to praise a man’s offi ce or profession, he may do it with good grace, and with a kind of magnanimity. The Cardinals of Rome, which are theologues, and friars, and schoolmen, have a phrase of notable contempt and scorn towards civil business: for they call all temporal business of wars, embassages, judicature, and other employments, sbirrerie, which is under-sheriffries; as if they were but matters for under-sheriffs and catch-poles: though many times those under-sheriffries do more good than their high speculations. St. Paul, when he boasts of himself, he doth oft interlace, I speak like a fool; but speaking of his calling, he saith, magnifi cabo apostolatum meum: [I will magnify my mission.] Lochithea 101

Let us add another story, not very improper for this subject, which Seneca relates in one of his epistles:186 “You know,” says he, writing to Lucilius, “that Harpaste, my wife’s fool, is thrown upon me as an hereditary charge, for I have naturally an aversion to those monsters; and I have a mind to laugh at a fool, I need not seek him far, I can laugh at my self. This fool has suddenly lost her sight: I tell you a strange, but a very true thing: she is not sensible that she is blind, but eternally importunes her keeper to take her abroad, because she says the house is dark. That what we laugh at in her, I pray you to believe, happens to every one of us: no one know himself to be avaricious or grasping: and, again, the blind call for a guide, while we stray of our own accord. I am not ambitious, we say; but a man cannot live otherwise at Rome; I am not wasteful, but the city requires a great outlay; ’tis not my fault if I am choleric—if I have not yet established any certain course of life: ’tis the fault of youth. Let us not seek our disease out of ourselves; ’tis in us, and planted in our bowels; and the mere fact that we do not perceive ourselves to be sick, renders us more hard to be cured. If we do not betimes begin to see to ourselves, when shall we have provided for so many wounds and evils wherewith we abound? And yet we have a most sweet and charming medicine in philosophy; for of all the rest we are sensible of no pleasure till after the cure: this pleases and heals at once.” This is what Seneca saith, that has carried me from my subject, but there is advantage in the change for when the sun sets, who doth not look for night?

Tribute to My Lord Verulam By Lochithea That thou hast caged mine heart with sugared words, Then thou alone ribs of steel shouldst lend; But since the sky borrows of the earth and droops not, This breath bloweth a trumpet, to thy sleeping ear. Could I weep thy death from mine eyes, Hide thee in smiles, and stay the winds that gods bloweth; I shalt bow stubborn leaves to play when no breeze sighs, And thy lips shalt let words go by, and language endeth. Unfold thyself to me; cancel thy winking jewels, Should they reveal these porches of death; Conduct mine hands within thine whispery snooze, To rip from Death’s creaky spine thy cobwebbed breathe. Be calm good wind; blow not a word away Lest my boasts behold man to subscribe in silence.

186 Michel Eyquem de Montaigne’s Essay xxv King Of Pleasure 1584 (85) of the age twenty-four to 1590 of the age twenty-nine

Good Advice for Satan’s Kingdom; this is certain: if what Bacon says is true, what Christ says is false. The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman and not a man: he is a Lord Chancellor —William Blake1

“The commerce of books accosteth and secondeth all my course, and everywhere assisteth me. It comforts me in age, and solaces me in solitarinesse. It easeth me of the burden of a wearysome sloth, and at all times rids me of tedious companies. It abateth the edge of fretting sorrow and is the best munition I have found in this human peregrination.” I think good to deliver Dr. Dee’s words above as we assemble in his library in Mortlake: knowledge to the number of four thousand bound and unbound with unique autographia; scientifi c instruments knitted and shaped from Europe to a sum of £2,000; some valuable quadrant by his friend Richard Chancellor, the navigator to Russia and the White Seas; they measure fi ve feet in semi-diameter and succeed to discover the more remote and deeper parts of Dr. Dee’s ascendance to higher science as he relates that he and Richard Chancellor together, often made observations of the sun’s height at meridian with it, before this exploring seaman sailed on his last voyage in 1556. “Many years after, I had this quadrant repaired and re-engraved by Mr. Bromfi eld, the Lieutenant of Ordnance who had given it to me, at a cost of £20. However, on my return to Mortlake, I found it barbarously

1 William Blake (1757–1827) English poet, painter engraver, and visionary mystic whose hand- illustrated series of lyrical and epic poems, beginning with Songs of Innocence (1789) and Songs of Experience (1794), form one of the most strikingly original and independent bodies of work in the Western cultural tradition. Blake is now regarded as one of the earliest and greatest fi g- ures of Romanticism. Yet he was ignored by the public of his day and was called mad because he was single-minded and unworldly; he lived on the edge of poverty and died in neglect. Northrop Frye states that “many students of literature or painting must have felt that Blake’s relation to those arts is a somewhat quizzical one. Critics in both fi elds insist almost exlusively upon the angularity of his genius. Blake, they tell us, is a mystic entraptured with incommu- nicable visions, standing apart, a lonely and isolated fi gure, out of touch with his own age and without infl uence on the following one. He is an interruption in cultural history, a separable phenomenon.”

102 Lochithea 103 hacked to pieces with hammers.”2 Of closer familiarity, the globes of Gerard Mercator’s of best make with divers surface and miraculous paintings. Dr. Dee gathers me into his laboratories: the chambers and garrets on storage chemicals have been for twenty years getting together; a great cart-load of special vessels for chemical use, some earthen, some of glass, metal and mixed stuff hath been brought from Lorraine, when Mr. Powell and Dr. Dee had found themselves in 1571. Dr. Dee points to the great bladder with four pounds weight of a very sweetish thing, like a brownish gum in it, arti- ﬁ cially prepared by thirty thymes purifying it. Alas! All things are admired, either because they are new, or because they are great. My eye well observeth the Voynich Manuscript.3 It is of no little coincidence that Friar Roger Bacon4 manipulated and webbed much of his works under the Biliteral Alphabet, of which many secret works of mine hath taken to that need. Of the extraordinary stories on magic by Friar Bacon, I remembereth one of ceremonies performed by Necromancers and of using a magic lantern, which is credited to an invention of his. The lantern of burning perfumes is served to produce a misty atmosphere; whereof terrible images are exhibited. The magic lantern serves to terrify men of wit; to believe in legions of devils from the bowels of hell upraised amongst them. Demons leap, sometimes run on the top of houses and sometimes on the ground.5 Dr. Dee interrupts my Kingly pleasure: “When you ﬂ y in a scarab-beetle over Trinity College for Aristophanes’ Peace, indeed you shall be named a sorcerer!6 I be victim, accused on sorcery when at Trinity College, young Master Bacon. Allow it creep not upon you.” He sits. “What a peevish schoolboy you seem, joined with a masker and a revealer! Nom-de-plume for your heart and soul; Francis Bacon for your wit. Remember, he that would keep a secret must keep it secret, that he hath the secret to keep.” He almost soundeth as Thomas Allen, the mathematician behind the stepping cracks of skill and scandal of Friar Bacon.7 To conclude, I will say no more, but so let

2 Montaigne’s Essays 3 The Voynich Manuscript as of 2005 is item MS408 in the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library of Yale University. Of various plant life transmutations can be found in Francis Bacon’s Sylva Sylvarum, especially in Cent. vi 4 Friar Bacon’s Latin works on science and mathematics preside in the Bodleian Library: Fols.110–122 that contain marginal annotations by Dr. John Dee, who purchased them in 1556 from John Leland’s library and were once owned by Sir Robert Cotton in 1620—See William Newbold’s The Cipher of Roger Bacon, 1928 for more on this account 5 (a) William Godwin: Exercise of Magical Power, 1834 (b) Spedding: Works, vol. iii. p. 324–326, Robert Leslie Ellis comments: “The Historia Vitæ et Mortis is the only work of its author in which I have been able to fi nd distinct evidence of his acquaintance with any of the writings of Roger Bacon.” Further on, Mr. Ellis continues to explain that, “Roger Bacon’s tract De mirabil. Potest. Artis et Naturæ, an English translation was published in 1618, from a copy in the possession of the occult philosopher Dr. Dee. In this we fi nd one or two stories which are repeated in the Historia Vitæ et Mortis, but which Bacon however disbelieves, and not without reason.” 6 For more on this account see G. Kennedy & R. Churchill: The Voynich Manuscript, 2005 7 Thomas Allen (1542–1632) considered “in those dark times, astrologer, mathematician, and conjurer were accounted the same things: and the vulgar did verily believe him to be a conjurer.” Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, on advisements of nativities, would constantly call in 104 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals great authors have their due, as time, which is the author of authors, be not deprived of his due, which is, further and further to discover truth. Upon my leave I take to Gloucester and fi nd a church of glorious gardens.8 My steps take me to a secluded area; a small graveyard, almost in abandonment. I lean ’gainst a wall for rest. My eyes close, my voice whispers: “Monstrous stream of nectar or attic honey, cast me from this ground to thy heaven of sweetness.” ’Twas of a gentle voice that whispereth in response, as if from afar: “How strange is this I attend to?” My eyes open, my body turns. Nothing to be seen, except for the wall, which stands before me. “Good morrow!” I press my ear ’gainst cold surfaces of a wall and am overfl owed. My voice rises in unnecessary tone: “Should you lurk beyond, reveal yourself, Sir.” “Why so, Sir?” Claimeth the voice. “You are a labyrinth, in which the very haste I move with will make me lose my way.” To which the voice returned no other answer but this: “No labyrinth, young Sir. There be some vault, or hollow, or isle,9 behind the wall, and some passage to it towards the farther end of that wall against which you speak; our voices communicateth with the air of the hollow.”10 I stand fi xed, contemplating with my hand ’gainst the wall for touch, the last of the senses, and most ignoble, yet of as great necessity as the other, and of as much pleasure catcheth me. This sense is exquisite in men, and by his nerves dispersed all over the body, perceives any tactile quality. His organ the nerves; his object those fi rst qualities, hot, dry, moist, cold; and those that follow them, hard, soft, thick, thin, &c. Many delightsome questions are moved by philosophers about this sense; the organs, objects, mediums, which for brevity I omit.11 Go, get you home, away from this ghostly place, Francis Bacon for your twenty and four years rest upon thy shoulders. I enter my dreary steps into my chambers, and upon equal fashion to the House of Commons where I sit for Melcombe in Dorset. Beside me be Hatton, Bromley, Egerton and our spymaster Sir Walsingham. Should I be compelled to web these gentlemen into my Journal, would take mass of work. I win the ear of the fastidious House. I am claimed English. I do not think much of my appearance, and so none else. I remain obscure; interlaced moderate relaxation of mind with gentle exercise on horseback and playing at bowls; studying, walking, taking the air

Thomas Allen. Even Queen Elizabeth I., attributed him to a paradigmatic of great astrology with Dr. Dee—Aubrey’s Brief Lives 8 “The church referred to is the Cathedral, and the length of the gallery is said to be twenty-fi ve yards. See Rudder, History of Gloucestershire, p. 178.”—James Spedding 9 Spedding supposes aisle is meant 10 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. chapter ii. (148). This experiment may allow writers to widen imagination and impregnate Lord Bacon meeting or visiting someone. It should be noted that this church in Gloucester possibly has some secret vault or passageway as Lord Bacon stated himself that should strongly be recommended to archaeologists to “inquire more particularly of the frame of that place” should this have not already been done. In Penn Leary’s account of The Oak Island Enigma written in 1953, there is a map showing Oak Island as Gloucester Isle and the like phenomena is experienced in many outdoor ancient Greek theatres 11 Robert Burton: The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1653 Lochithea 105 in my coach; and never named attractive; well, possibly by my man John as regardeth my legs. My need to expel radiance cometh through my words: never using my wit to put others out of countenance, I am no dashing man, yet would, if I had occasion, to repeat another man’s words after him, I had a use and faculty to dress them in better vestments and apparel than they had before, so that the author should fi nd his own speech much amended, and yet the substance of it still retained.12 My miniature portrait at the age of eighteen thou hath glanced upon Reader. The painter, Nicholas Hilliard, portrays more than what I may describe: slight built, rosy and round in fl esh (toward my father’s side I would say.) A well-set head on my shoulders, a well trained tongue in my mouth (due to the infl uential worms that Sir Paulet fed me) dark hair, a fi rm nose to smell out any new experiments that were on the way, and a mouth; O what a mouth I have with its twinkling tremulous lines allowing for character of strength.13 But this young man fi ndeth no public employment, or any wench to his liking. Therefore my continuance contemplates my writings. The Greatest Birth of Time is forwarded under uncle Burghley’s name. The Earl of Leicester entertains the Court of a gala week with Hamlet, then to Holland he entertains on this Prince already in Denmark, and the Cardinal Alphonsus and the Spanish Infanta. To memory cometh Sir Thomas More, tragically executed as a traitor in 1535. A solicitor, author, statesman and Catholic martyr, his name well known to having an excellent vein in jesting, at the very instant of his death: having a pretty long beard, after his head was upon the block, lift it up again, and gently drew his beard aside, and said, “This hath not offended the King.”14 I am in the similar, that I also had not offended the Queen with my writing of advice, and be spared the block. A letter of Sir Thomas More written to his daughter in 1535 with a piece of coal from prison, thus:15 “Mine own good daughter, our Lord be thanked I am in good health of body, and in good quiet of mind: and of worldly things I no more desire than I have. I beseech him make you all merry in the hope of heaven. And such things as I somewhat longed to talk with you all, concerning the world to come, our Lord put them into your minds, as I trust he doth, and better to, by his Holy Spirit: who blesses you and preserve you all. Written with a coal by your tender loving father, who in his pore prayers forgetteth none of you all,

12 See the Latin version of William Rawley’s short biography on Lord Bacon—Spedding: Works, vol i. p. 49 13 A.C. Marshall: News Chronicle Everything Within, ﬁ rst edition 1957 14 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms New and Old, 1624 15 Selected English Letters, xv–xix centuries. In Thomas More’s Utopia there’s a law where young people should see themselves naked before marriage; a law that is also stated in Lord Bacon’s New Atlantis: “The married couple are permitted, before they contract, to see one another naked. They have near every town a couple of pools (which they call Adam and Eve’s pools), where it is permitted to one of the friends of the man, and another of the friends of the woman, to see them severally bathe naked.” Thomas More is described as a zestful man with “extraordinary facetious.” In Aubrey’s Brief Lives, an account is given of how More had two riders imagining a dragon had appeared in the sky. Such experiments on imagination and will power was very much looked and experimented upon by Lord Bacon; see his Sylva Sylvarum 106 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals nor your babes, nor your nurses, nor your good husbands, nor your good husband’s shrewd wives, nor your father’s shrewd wife neither, nor our other friends. And thus fare ye heartily well for lack of paper.” Of letters, one leaveth mother to uncle Burghley:16

My Good Lord. I know well, mine especial good Lord, it becometh me not to be troublesome unto your honour at any other time, but now chiefl y in this season of your greatest affair and small or no leisure; but yet, because yesterday morning, especially as in that I was extraordinarily admitted, it was your Lordship’s favour, so, fearing to stay too long, I could not so plainly speak, or so well receive your answer thereto, as I would truly and gladly in that matter, I am bold by this writing to enlarge the same more plainly, and to what end I did mean. If it may like your good Lordship, the report of the late conference at Lambeth hath been so handled, to the discrediting of those learned that labour for right reformation in the min- istry of the Gospel, that it is no small grief of mind to the faithful preachers; because the matter is thus by the other side carried away, as though their cause could not suffi ciently be warranted by the word of God. For the which proof they have long been sad suitors, and would most humbly crave still both of God in heaven whose cause it is, and of her Majesty their most excellent Sovereign here in earth, that they might obtain quiet and convenient audience either before her Majesty herself, whose heart is in God’s hand to touch and to turn, or before your honours of the Council, whose wisdom they greatly reverence. And if they cannot strongly prove before you our of the Word of God that reformation which they so long have called and cried for, to be according to Christ’s own ordinance, then to let them be rejected with shame out of the Church for ever. And that this may be the better done to the glory of God and true understanding of this great cause, they require, fi rst, leave to assemble and to consult together purposely, which they have forborne to do for avoiding suspicion of private conventicles. For hitherto, though in some writing they have declared the state of their, yea God’s cause, yet were they never allowed to confer together, and so together be heard fully. But now some one, and then some two, called upon a sudden unprepared, to four prepared to catch them, rather than gravely and moderately to be heard to defend their right and good cause. And, therefore, for such weighty conference they appeal to her Majesty and her honourable wise Council, whom God hath placed in highest authority for the advancement of his Kingdom, and refuse the Bishops for Judges, who are parties partial in their own defence, because they seek more worldly ambition than the glory of Christ Jesus. For my own part, my good Lord, I will not deny but as I may I hear them in their public exercises as a chief duty commanded by God to widows; and also I confess, as one that hath found mercy, that I have profi ted more in the inward feeling knowledge of God’s Holy will though but in a small measure by such sincere and sound opening of the Scriptures by an ordinary preaching, within these seven or eight years, than I did by hearing odd sermons at Paul’s well nigh twenty years together. I mention this unfeignedly, the rather to excuse this my boldness toward your Lordship, humbly beseeching your Lordship to think upon their suit, and, as God shall move your

16 Original letter rests in Lansdowne MSS., xIiiii. 48 Lochithea 107 understanding heart, to further it. And if opportunity will not be had as they require, yet I once again in humble wise am a suitor unto your Lordship that you would be so good as to choose two or three of them which our honour liketh best, and license them before your own self, or other at your pleasure, to declare and to prove the truth of the cause with a quiet and an attentive ear. I have heard them say ere now they will not come to dispute and argue to breed contention, which is the manner of the Bishops’ hearing; but to be suffered patiently to lay down before them that shall command they then excepted how well and certainly they can warrant, by the infallible touchstone of the word, the substantial and main ground of their cause. Surely, my Lord, I am persuaded should do God acceptable service herein I and for the very entire affection I owe and do bear unto your honour I wish from the very heart that, to our other rare gifts sundrywise, you were fully instructed and satisﬁ ed in this principal matter so contemned of the great Rabbis, to the dishonouring of the Gospel so long amongst us. I am so much bound to your Lordship for your comfortable dealing toward me and mine, as I do incessantly desire that by your Lordship’s means God’s glory may more and more be promoted, the grieved Godly comforted, and you and yours abundantly blessed. None is privy to this; and, indeed, though I hear them, yet I see them very seldom. I trust your Lordship will accept in best part my best meaning. In the Lord dutifully and most heartily. A. Bacon. Postscript: for thinness of the paper I write on the other leaf for my ill eyes.

In remembrance of my suit to uncle Burghley, I take pride and delight with writ:

It May Please Your Honour. To give me leave amidst your great and divers business to put you in remembrance of my poor suit, leaving the time unto your honour’s best opportunity and commodity. I think the objection of my years will wear way with the length of my suit. The very stay doth in this respect concern me, because I am thereby hindered to take a course of practice which, by the leave of God, if her Majesty like not my suit, I must and will follow: not for the necessity of estate, but for my credit sake, which I know by living out of action will wear. I spake when the Court was at Theoball’s to Mr. Vice-Chamberlain,17 who promised me his furderance; which I did lest he mought be made for some other. If it may please your honour, who as I hear hath great interest in him, to speak with him in it, I think he will be fast mine. Fra. Bacon.

Of new works I hear of two; Porta’s Natural Magick to which the Preface be writ thus: “If this work made by me in my youth, when I was hardly ﬁ fteen years old, was so generally received and with so great applause, that it was forthwith translated into many languages, as Italian, French, Spanish, Arabic; and passed through the hands of incomparable men:

17 Sir Christopher Hatton 108 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

I hope that now coming forth from me that am fi fty years old, it shall be more dearly entertained. For when I saw the fi rst fruits of my labors received with so great alacrity of mind, I was moved by these good omens; and therefore have adventured to send it once more forth, but with an equipage more rich and noble. From the fi rst time it appeared, it is now thirty fi ve years, and (without any derogation from my modesty be it spoken) if ever any man labored earnestly to discover the secrets of Nature, it was I; For with all my mind and power, I have turned over the monuments of our ancestors, and if they wrote anything that was secret and concealed, that I enrolled in my catalogue of rarities. Moreover, as I traveled through France, Italy, and Spain, I consulted with all libraries, learned men, and artifi cers, that if they knew anything that was curious, I might understand such truths as they had proved by their long experience. Those places and men, I had not the happiness to see, I wrote letters to, frequently, earnestly desiring them to furnish me with those secrets, which they esteemed rare; not failing with my entreaties, gifts, commutations, art and industry. So that whatsoever was notable, and to be desired through the whole world, for curiosities and excellent things, I have abundantly found out, and therewith beatifi ed and augmented these, my endeavors, in Natural Magick, wherefore by earnest study and constant experience, I did both night and day endeavored to know whether what I heard or read, was true or false, that I might leave nothing unassayed; for I have oft thought of that sentence of Cicero, It is fi t that they who desire for the good of mankind, to commit to memory things most profi table, well weighted and approved, should make trial of all things. To do this I have spared no pain nor cost, but have expended by narrow fortunes in a large magnifi cence. Nor were the labours, diligence, and wealth, of most famous nobles, potentates, great and learned men, wanting to assist me; especially whom I name for his honor the illustrious and most reverend Cardinal of Estings: all which did afford there voluntary and bountiful help to this work. I never wanted for in my house an academy of curious men, who for the trying of these experiments, cheerfully disbursed their money, and employed their utmost endeavors, in assisting me to compile and enlarge this volume, which with so great charge, labor, and study, I had long before provided. Having made an end thereof, I was somewhat unwilling to suffer to appear to the public view of all men (I being now old, and trussing up my Fardel for there are many most excellent things fi t for the worthiest nobles, which should ignorant men (that were never bred up in the secret principles of philosophy) came to know, they would grow contemptible, and undervalued; As Plato said, to Dionysius, They seem to make Philosophy ridiculous, who endeavor to prostitute Her excellence to profane and illiterate men. Also here are conceived many hurtful and mischievous things, wherewith wicked and untutored men may mischief others; what must I do? Let envy be driven away, and a desire to benefi t posterity, vanquish all other thoughts; the most majestic wonders of nature are not to be concealed, that in them we may admire the mighty power of God, his wisdom, his bounty, and therein reverence and adore him. Whatsoever these are, I set them before you, hath you may discern my diligence and benevolence towards you; had I withheld these things from the world, I fear I should have undergone the reproach of a wicked man; for (Cicero derives his from Plato) we were not born from ourselves alone, but our country will challenge a part, our parents and our friends require their parts also from us. Wherefore such things as hitherto lay hid to the bosom of wondrous nature, shall come to light, from the store-houses of the most ingenious men, without fraud, or deceit. I Lochithea 109 discover those things that have been long hid, either by the envy or ignorance of others, nor shall you here fi nd empty trifl es, or riddles, or bare authorities of other men. I did not think fi t to omit anything by erring honestly, or following the best leaders, but such as are magnifi cent and most excellent, I have veiled by the artifi ce of words, by transposition and depressions of them; and such things as are hurtful and mischievous, I have written obscurely; yet not so, but that an ingenious reader may unfold it, and the with of one that will thoroughly search may comprehend it. I have added some things that are profi table, and rarely known, because they are most rare. Sometimes from things from most known, and meanly esteemed, we ascend to things most profi table and high, which the mind can scarce reach unto: one’s understanding cannot comprehend high and sublime things, unless it stand fi rm on most true principles. The mathematical sciences, rise from some trivial and common axioms, to most sublime demonstrations. Wherefore I thought it better to write true things and profi table, than false things that are great. True things be they ever so small, will give occasions to discover greater things by them. The infi nite multitude of Things is incomprehensible, and more than a man may be able to contemplate.” Of another be Webb’s Discourse of Poetry for the gathering of poets in this book and the preface, doth allow for much table-talk: “I am humbly to desire pardon of the learned company of gentlemen scholars and students of the Universities and Inns of Court, if I omit their several commendations in this place, which I know a great number of them have worthily deserved, in many rare devices and singular inventions of poetry; for neither hath it been my good hap to have seen all which I have heard of, neither is my abiding in such place where I can with facility get knowledge of their works.”18 It is virtue, yea virtue, gentlemen, that maketh gentlemen; that maketh the poor rich, the base-born noble, the subject a Sovereign, the deformed beautiful, the sick whole, the weak strong, the most miserable most happy. There are two principal and peculiar gifts in the nature of man, knowledge and reason; the one commandeth, and the other obeyeth: these things neither the whirling wheel of fortune can change, neither the deceitful cavil- lings of worldlings separate, neither sickness abate, neither age abolish.19 What a Poet and Poesie is, and who may be worthily said the most excellent Poet of our time; diversities in the terms perchance every man hath not noted, and thus much be said in defence of the Poet’s honour, to the end no noble and generous mind be discomforted in the study thereof, the rather for that worthy and honorable memorial of that noble woman twice French Queen, Lady Anne of Britain, wife fi rst to King Charles the viij and after to Lewes the xij, who passing one day from her lodging toward the King’s side, saw in a gallerie Master Allaine Chartier, the King’s Secretarie, an excellent maker or Poet leaning on a table’s end asleep, and stooped down to kiss him, saying thus in all their hearings, we may not of Princely curtesy pass by and not honour with our kiss the mouth from whence so many sweet ditties and golden poems have issued. But methinks at these words I hear some smilingly say, I would be loath to lack living of my own till the Prince gave me a manner of new Elme for my rhyming: and another to say I have read that the Lady Cynthia came once down out of her sky to kiss the faire young lad Endimion as he lay asleep: and

18 Ignatius Donnelly: The Great Cryptogram, vol. i, 1888 19 Lilly’s Euphues—See Charles Kingsley’s Westward Ho! published in 1855, on how the noble Brotherhood of the Rose was founded 110 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals many noble Queens that have bestowed kisses upon their Princes paramours, but never upon any Poets. The third methinks shruggingly saith, I kept not to sit sleeping with my Poesie till a Queen came and kissed me: but what of all this?20 And of laws and ordinancies militarie, set down and established by the right excellent Robert Earl of Leycester, Baron of Denbigh, Justice of Oyer and terminer of her Majesties forests, chases and parks on this side Trente, Master of the Horse to the Queen’s most Excellent Majesty one of the Lords of her most honourable Privy Council, Knight of both noble Orders, of the Garter and St. Michael: her Highness Lieutenant and Captain General of her Maist. Army and forces in the Low Countries: and Governor General of all the Provinces and Cities united in the said Low Countries, and their associates: “Forasmuch as there is not any Estate, which in peace or war can be accounted sure, or preserved from dishonour and ruin, unless it be supported and borne up by Justice duly administered, and discipline orderly observed: and for that no man can be so ignorant as not to know that honour, fame and prosperity do duly follow that Commonwealth or Nation, wherein good laws are established, the Magistrate ministering Justice is duly regarded, and the people fearing to offend, are drawn under the rules of Justice and obedience: and seeing that martial discipline above all things (proper to men of war) is by us at this time most to be followed, as well for the advancement of God’s glory, as honourable to govern this army in good order: and least that the evil inclined (pleading simplicity) should cover any wicked fact by ignorance: therefore these martial ordinances and laws following are established and published, whereby all good minds endeavouring to attain honour, may stand armed, and receive encouragement to persevere in well doing, and such as are inclined to lewdnesses, be warned from committing offences punishable. Which being embraced with careful respect, and followed with obedience, do promise good order and agreement amongst ourselves, with victory and good event against our enemies.”

Ordinances And Laws Blasphemers; fi rst, forasmuch as the Holy Name of our most mighty and invincible God, with all reverence ought to be regarded, and that destruction is pronounced to such as blaspheme or abuse the same: it is therefore ordained and commanded, that no person whatsoever, either in common conference or communication, or for any cause whatsoever, shall blaspheme, or take His Name in vain, upon pain of loss of us to the relief of the poor for the fi rst offence: for the second, fi ve days imprisonment: for the third, loss of his place and wages. Divine services; and because the continual and unspeakable favours of our Almighty God, by our unthankfulness may be taken from us, and that no good event of any action can be expected, wherein God is not fi rst and principally honoured and served: it is therefore especially ordained and commanded, that all persons whatsoever, shall upon general warning given either by sound of Trumpet or Drum, repair to the place appointed, where the Divine service is to be used, there to hear the same read and preached, unless for the present by sickness or other service he be impeached, upon pain to lose his days wages for

20 George Puttenham: The Arte of English Poesie, 1589 Lochithea 111 the fi rst, two days wages for the second, and so to be increased by the discretion of the Judge, and for every such default in the Soldier, as well the Captain as his inferior offi cers, to be punished with like penalty. Unlawful games; and seeing it well beseemeth all Christians, especially such as profess the military service, to pass away the time in matters requisite for their profession: and because no time can be more vainly spent, then that which is consumed in unlawful games, besides the breeding of much contention and quarrels: and for that there be many allowable and commendable exercises for all sorts of men to use: therefore it is straightly commanded, that no private Soldier or inferior Offi cer shall play at Dice and Cards, nor any other unlawful games, upon pain of two days imprisonment for the fi rst time, and for after committing the like, to bee further punished by the Judge’s discretion. Vagrant woe-men; and for that it often happeneth, that by permitting of many vagrant and idle women in an army, sundry disorders and horrible abuses are committed: therefore it is ordained that no man shall carry into the fi eld, or detain with him in the place of his garrison, any woman whatsoever, other then such as be known to be his lawful wife, or such other women to tend the sick and to serve for launderers as shall be thought meet by the Marshall, upon pain of whipping and banishment. Women with child. Aged persons. Widows. Virgins. Babes; and insomuch as clemency amongst men of war in some respects is a singular virtue: it is ordained that no man in any part of this service that he shall do, shall lay violent hands upon any woman with child, or lying in childbed, old persons, widows, young virgins, or babes, without especial orders from the Magistrate, upon pain of death. Violent displing of women; no man of what degree soever he be, shall enforce any wife, widow, maid or virgin, and by violence defi le any of them upon pain of death. Drunkenness and riotousness; what person soever that shall be commonly given to drunkenness, or riotously behave himself, shall be banished the Army. Concealment of treason. Conspiracy; whosoever shall conceal, or in any sort keep secret, treason, any dangerous conspiracy, or other practise which may be hurtful, and may concern the peril of her Majesty’s person and Realm, or of her General, or the Estate of this Army, and shall not with all diligence reveal the same either unto the General, or some other Offi cer of especial trust, shall incur the pains of death with torments. Conference or writing with or to the enemy; no man shall have speech or conference, send message, deliver or receive letters to or from the enemy, or any of his confederates, either secretly or openly, without manifesting the same presently unto the General or Marshall, or having former authority to so do, upon pain of death. Departing from the camp or the garrison without leave; no man being in this service shall depart the Camp or place of Garrison for any cause whatsoever, without the General’s especial Passport, or other head Offi cer authorized, upon pain of death. 112 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Braking order of the rank; no man shall break out, or leave the order of his rank, being once ordered in the fi eld by the Marshall or Sergeant Major, without some great occasion fi rst made known unto the said Offi cer, upon pain of loss either of life or limb, at the discretion of the General or of the Marshall. Watch word neglected; no man appointed to watch or ward, shall shun or depart the place, neither shall sleep, or neglect his duty therein, especially after the watch is set and the word given, unless he be orderly relieved, or for some great occasion enforced, with licence of his Captain or Offi cer, upon pain of death. Mutiny or unlawful assemblies; no man shall raise any mutiny, or procure unlawful assemblies upon private, secret, or hidden purpose, whereby to disturb the peace and quiet of the Army, upon pain of death. Weapon against Magistrates; no man shall lift up his weapon against the Magistrate, his Captain or Offi cer, upon pain of death. Foreigner abused by Englishman; and whereas sundry nations are to serve with us in these wars, so as through diversity of languages occasion of many controversies may arise or happen to grow: it is therefore ordained, that if any person of English nation shall fi nd himself aggrieved with any wrong proffered him by any foreigner, that then without proffering further revenge he shall signify the same unto his Captain or other Offi cer, whereby other may be taken so, as no further quarrel grow thereof, but that quietness in all respects may be preserved, upon pain of such punishment as the head Offi cers shall think meet, either by loss of life or limb. Finis.

Yet I may excite my self that I hear of my appointment as Bencher of Gray’s Inn and of Philip Earl of Arundel, who hath lain now a full year in the Tower, accused in the Star-Chamber: that he had relieved Priests contrary to the Laws; that he had intercourse of letters with Allen and Parsons (Jesuits) the Queen’s enemies; that he had by writing published, slandered the justice of the Kingdom, and that he had purposed to depart the Realm without licence. The Earl protests his obedience to the Queen, and his love to his country, most modestly excused him self by his affection to the Catholic religion, and his ignorance of the Laws, and confesses his fault submitted him self to the censure of the Bench; who ﬁ ned him in ten thousand pounds, and imprisonment during the Queen’s pleasure.21 In a confused mass, I set down a letter to uncle Burghley:

May it please your Lordship. For that your Lordship may otherwise have heard of me, it shall make me more wary and circumspect in carriage of myself. Indeed, I ﬁ nd in my simple observation that they which live as it were in umbra, and not in public or frequent action, how moderately and modestly

21 William Camden: Dairies Lochithea 113 soever they behave themselves, yet laborant invidia. I ﬁ nd also that such persons as are of nature bashful as my self is, whereby they want that plausible familiarity which other shave, are often mistaken for proud. But once, I know well, and I most humbly beseech your Lordship to believe, that arrogancy and overweening is so far from my natures, if I think well of my self in anything, it is in this, that I am free from that vice. And I hope upon this, your Lordship’s speech, I have entered into those considerations, as my behaviour shall no more deliver me for other than I am. Fra. Bacon

My fortune it is to live without eyes in the back of my head; how may I beware of grimaces at me from behind? I have been masked as an arrogant and overweening. No sense but that of a fool would pray longer on these accusations of barking monsters: these are the opinions of persons that have respect but to a few things. It remindeth me of Montaigne’s essay: “Going one day to Orleans, I met in that plain on this side Clery, two pedants who were travelling towards Bordeaux, about fi fty paces distant from one another; and, a good way further behind them, I discovered a troop of horse, with a gentleman at the head of them, who was the late Monsieur le Comte de la Rochefoucauld. One of my people inquired of the foremost of these masters of arts, who that gentleman was that came after him; he, having not seen the train that followed after, and thinking his companion was meant, pleasantly answered, “He is not a gentleman; he is a grammarian; and I am a logician.”22 Alas! The wounds were made by my own weapons as of the aculeate Babington conspiracy explodeth so doth my becoming a Member of Parliament for Taunton. Sorrow breaks seasons, makes the night morning and the noon-tide night. I relate a particular account on an Advertisement Touching the Controversies of the Church of England; much good that it doth, for at the time fl eets are arming in Cadiz bay; money and men ready in Rome, Naples and Leghorn for a crusade ’gainst the heretics. Parsons hounding on the Pope, Sixtus on Philip; in Tagus, Groyne in the cities of Brabant and Flanders, I hear of arma- ments that wait but a word to cross over into Kent, to sear Mary Queen of Scots on the throne and reduce England to a fi ef of the Church. Our English ports swarm with soldiers; drums roll, yeomen muster in the market places of every shire. Rumours cast ears to ones feet: her Majesty instigates my admired friend, Sir Amias Paulet, jailer of Mary Queen of Scots, to commit a private murder of Mary;23 and the bells toll to the lecturer, the

22 Charles Cotton comments that Montaigne’s essays “are celebrated and considered most per- manent of his productions, form a magazine out of which such minds as those of Bacon and Shakespeare did not disdain to help themselves; the Frenchman’s literary importance largely results from the share which his mind had in inﬂ uencing other minds, coeval and subsequent.” 23 William H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861: “When Elizabeth failed to get two honorable men, Sir Amyas Paulet and Sir Drury, to secretly assassinate the Queen of Scots, she sneered at their “daintiness.” Even after she had signed the warrant for Mary’s execution and returned it to the Secretary, Sir William Davison, she desired him to hint to Paulet that he might privately rid her of his troublesome charge.”—See also Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) 114 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

trumpets sound to the stages, whereat the wicked faction of Rome lawgeth for joy, while the Godly weep for sorrow. Woe is me! The playhouses are pestered when the churches are naked. At the one it is not possible to get a place; at the other void seats are plenty. It is a woeful sight to see two hundred proud players jest in their silks where fi ve hundred poor people starve in the streets.24 What be this news that arriveth from France? Even the ruins have perished: Anthony is charged with accosting some young boy of the name Boysson. Henri of Navarre, I hear, shalt personally intervene.25 I have often saith: If you are wise, seek something to desire, for to him who has not some special object of pursuit all things are distasteful and wearisome. I will make you understand in all this business how much is truth, how much error, and how much envy; I know very well that the grammarians distinguish betwixt an untruth and a lie, and say that to tell an untruth is to tell a thing that is false, but that we ourselves believe to be true; and that the defi nition of the word to lie in Latin, from which French is taken, is to tell a thing which we know in our conscience to be untrue. Anthony’s stomach hath weakness. His occasional use is of a stomacher of Scarlet Cloth; whelps, young healthy boys applied to the stomach; Hypocratic wines so they be made of austere materials are of constant use. His ignorance to my secret for the stomach grieves me most: take Lignum aloes in gross shavings, steep them in Sack, or Alacant, changed twice, half an hour at a time, till the bitterness be drawn forth. Then take the shavings forth and dry them in the shade, and beat them to an excellent powder. Of that powder, with the syrup of Citrons, make a small pill, to be taken before supper.26 Nay! Anthony hath attended to sugared words but looked not on the poison of hearts. Lent Term cometh and appoint me as Reader of Gray’s Inn; the Privy Council consult me on legal matters. What is acceptable, is that I am given my own private chambers where I now lodge. I am to stay in my lodgings, The Lord Bacon’s Lodgings, and organize the fi rst play at Gray’s Inn since 1566.27 I must confess: it is more excitable than to stand before a drowsy judge to plead my case; or inhale the smell of jail on him. ’Tis worse for my Caspidee, [Dr. Dee] who stands to refuse to enter the services of the successor of Ivan, in Russia.28 And thus yellow, red, and purpled curtains, stretch over the spacious theatre, sustained by poles and pillars that wave about in the air, and whole streams of colours fl ow from the

24 Jacob Feis: Shakspere And Montaigne 25 Daphne du Maurier: Golden Lads, 1975 26 (a) Francis Bacon: The Dignity and Advancement of Learning, book vi (b) Francis Bacon: Medical Remains published 1679 27 An essential masque was the appeal of the moment to the eye and the ear, the blaze of colour and light, the mist of perfume, the succession of rapidly changing scenes and tableaux, crowded with wonderful and beautiful fi gures. All the gods of Olympus, all the monsters of Tartarus, all the heroes of history, all the ladies of romance, the fauns, the satyrs, the fairies, the witches all were presented to the eye, while every kind of musical instrument charmed the ear, and eye and ear together were delighted by an elaboration of dance and measured motion which has never been known since—Wikimedia Org 28 Edward P. Cheyney: A History of England, vol. i, 1948 Lochithea 115 top, and tinge the scenes, and men, and women, and gods.29 Let the scenes abound with light, specially coloured and varied; and let the masquers, or any other, that are to come down from the scene, have some motions upon the scene itself before their coming down; for it draws the eye strangely, and makes it with great pleasure to desire to see that it cannot perfectly discern. Let the songs be loud and cheerful, and not chirpings or pulings. Let the music likewise be sharp and loud, and well placed. The colours that shew best by candle-light, are white, carnation, and a kind of sea-water-green; and oes, or spangs, as they are of no great cost, so they are of most glory. As for rich embroidery, it is lost and not discerned. Let the suits of the masquers be graceful, and such as become the person when the wizards are off; not after examples of known attires; Turks, soldiers, mariners, and the like. Let anti-masques not be long; they have been commonly of fools, satyrs, baboons, wild-men, antics, beasts, spirits, witches, Ethiops, pigmies, turquets, nymphs, rustics, Cupids, statua’s moving, and the like. As for angels, it is not comical enough to put them in anti-masques. But I am astonished to what I am told, with asseveration, that Robert Cecil is bought, by a Mr. Coventry, for 2.000 angels;30 and that he wrought in contrary spirit to his father; and that from his servants of his Lady, from some counsellors that have observed him in my business, he knew, he wrought under hand ’gainst me. The truth of which tale I do not believe. But, though I reject this report, though the strangeness of my case, might make me credulous, so I admit a conceit, that the last messenger and himself used, dealt ill with his honours;31 and any thing that is hideous, as devils, giants, is on the other side as unfi t. But chiefl y, to return to the Masque, let the music of them be recreative, and with some strange changes. Some sweet odours suddenly coming forth, without any drops falling, are, in such a company as there is steam and heat, things of great pleasure and refreshment. Double Masques, one of men, another of ladies, addeth state and variety. But all is nothing except the room be kept clear and neat. For justs, and tourneys, and barriers; the glories of them are chiefl y in the chariots, wherein the challengers make their entry; especially if they be drawn with strange beasts: as lions, bears, camels, and the like; or in the devices of their entrance; or in the bravery of their liveries; or in the godly furniture of their horses and armour.32

29 Lucretius, iv. 75 30 A gold coin, fi rst used in France (angelot, ange) in 1340, and introduced into England by Edward IV. In 1465 as a new issue of the “noble,” and so at fi rst called the “angel-noble.” It varied in value between that period and the time of Charles I., (when it was last coined) from 6s. 8d. to 10s. The name was derived from the representation it bore of St. Michael and the dragon. The angel was the coin given to those who came to be touched for the disease known as King’s evil; after it was no longer coined, medals, called touch-pieces, with the same device, were given instead—Encyclopaedia Britannica 31 William Rawley, in Resuscitatio published 1657, comments that this letter, “I fi nd not in his Lordship’s register book, of letters; but I am induced by the style and other characters to own them to be his.” 32 Francis Bacon: Essay xxxvii. Of Masques and Triumphs 116 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

The Taming of the Shrew scrivened with Comedy of Errors and an intercourse with the public hath given birth. Thomas Nashe stands upon Greene’s Arcadia as it freshly leaves the print: “It is a common practice, now-a-days, amongst a sort of shifting companions, that run through every art and thrive at none, to leave the trade of noverint, [solicitor ] whereto they were born, and busy themselves with the endeavours of art, that could scarcely Latinise their neck-verse, if they should have need. Yet English Seneca, read by candlelight, yields many good sentences, as “blood is a beggar,” and so forth; and if you entreat him fair, in a frosty morning, he will afford you whole Hamlets, I should say handfuls, of tragical speeches. But what is that will last always? Seneca let blood line-by-line and page-by-page, at length must die to our stage, which makes his famished followers, leap into a new occupation and translate two-penny pamphlets from the Italian without any knowledge even of its articles. Sundry other sweet gentlemen I do know, that we have vaunted their pens in private-devises and tricked up a company of taffaty fools with their feathers, whose beauty, if our poets had not pecked, with the supply of their periwigs, they might have anticked it until this time, up and down the country with The King of Fairies and dined every day at the pease-poridge ordinary with Delfrigius.”33 Merry Reader, to hasten, the said Spanish fl eet, being the best appointed of men, munition, and all manner of provision of all that ever the ocean saw, and called by the arrogant name of Invincible consisteth of 130 ships: soldiers of 19.299 men; sailors of 8.350 men; galley slaves of 2.080 men; great ordinance of 1.630. Don Alphonso Perez de Gusman, Duke of Medina Sidoni, hath the principal command thereof (for don Antonio Columna, Duke of Paliano, and the Marquesse of Sancta Cruz, to whom this command is appointed, died both of them while the fl eet was in rigging); and under him John Martinez de Recald, a most skilful seaman. The fl eet sets sail out of the river Tayo, and while it bent the course towards Galicia, it was wholly scattered asunder by a hideous tempest, and hardly met again some few days and other harbours near thereabouts, three galleys being conveyed into France by the help of David Guinn, an English slave, and treachery of the Turkish rowers. It be reported to be so weather-beaten and distressed that the Queene was certainly persuaded that this fl eet was not to be looked for this year, and Sir Walsingham writes to the Lord Admiral to send back four of the greatest ships, as if the war were now at an end. The Lord Admiral did not lightly believe it, and therefore by a gentle answer prayed that nothing might be rashly credited in so weighty a matter, and that he might retain them though it were at his own charges. And taking the benefi t of a favourable wind, he set sail toward Spain, to surprise the enemies’ weather-beaten ships in the harbours. When he was not far from the coast of Spain, the wind turned into the South, and he, who was commanded to defend the coast of England, fearing least with same wind they might arrive in England undiscreet, returned to Plymouth.34 Much doth come upon my piteous crown: a lecturer entrusted with clarifying the Law, becoming a Member of Parliament for Liverpool and another performance of a dumb- show we present to her Majesty at Greenwich; acting amongst others from Gray’s Inn,

33 Ignatius Donnelly: The Great Cryptogram, vol. i, 1888 34 William Camden: Diaries Lochithea 117

Thomas Hughes’ The Misfortunes of Arthur35 of contributors other than my self be William Fullbecke with writ of two speeches; Nicholas Trotte doth contribute the introduction; Francis Flower adds the choruses on acts I and II; Christopher Yelverton, John Lancaster and my self devise the dumb-show. Before each act of following, a Senecan tragedy, Thyestes.36 Upon our retirement, we witness the Queen’s passing to the Temple-Bar along Fleet Street, where the Lawyers rank on one side, and the companies of the City on the other; how strange to observe the Courtiers. If they bow fi rst to the citizens, they are in debt; if fi rst to us, they are in Law.37 My appointing to the government committee and the examining of recusants in sequence with organizing a series of plays, toucheth my heart and soul; in these thoughts, I hear of dear Dr. Dee beholden by a cramp most extremely in the very centre of the calves of both his legs, and in the place where he hath the sudden grief last of pain so intolerable as if the veins or arteries would have broken by extreme stretching, or how else he cannot tell. The pain lasted about half a quarter of an hour. I advise his purgation of six grains and to begin in the morning to drink the drink for the stone in the kidney.38 He is much released from pain and forwardeth a letter to her Majesty on the defeat of the Spanish Armada whereon I hear that a Dutchman had wrought himself into the belief of a great person, by undertaking that he could make gold: whose discourse was, that gold might be made; but that the alchemists over-fi red the work: for, he said, the making of gold did require a very temperate heat, as being in nature a subterrany work, where little heat cometh; but yet more to the making of gold than of any other metal; and therefore that he would do it with a great lamp that should carry a temperate and equal heat; and that it was the work of many months. The device of the lamp be folly; but the over-fi ring now used, and the equal heat to be required, and the making it a work of some good time, are no ill discourses.39 He be of lusty opinion on our fi rst paper-mill erected in Dartford, by a German, who is knighted by her Majesty.

35 (a) Mr. Collier’s comment of the piece in his preface: “The Misfortunes of Arthur is a dramatic composition only known to exist in the Garrick Collection. Judging from internal evidence, it seems to have been printed with unusual care, under the superintendence of the principal author. The mere rarity of this unique drama would not have recommended it to our notice; but it is not likely that such a man as Bacon would have lent his aid to the production of a piece which was not intrinsically good; and, unless we much mistake, there is a richer and nobler vein of poetry running through it than is to be found in any previous work of the kind. It forms a sort of connecting link between such pieces of unimpassioned formality as Ferrex and Porrex, and rule-rejecting historical plays, as Shakespeare found them and left them.”—See Ignatius Donnelly: The Great Cryptogram, vol. i, 1888 (b) “It appears that eight persons, members of the Society of Gray’s Inn, were engaged in the production of the Misfortunes of Arthur, for the entertainment of Queen Elizabeth at Greenwich on the 8th of February 1587.”—See Mrs. Henry Pott’s The Promus, 1883 36 Lucius Annaeus Seneca (c.4 BC–AD 65): Roman philosopher and dramatist; his nine verse tragedies were translated in 1581 37 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 38 Halliwell: The Private Diary of Dr. John Dee, 1842 39 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol ii, century iv; Gloss of the cause 118 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

My appointment cometh for the select by a committee of sixteen solicitors, four from each Inn of Court, to review parliamentary statutes. I also perform another comedy at Gray’s Inn that is attended by the dignitaries of the Court wherein Spenser’s writ leaveth for Sir. Walter Raleigh:

To The Right Noble, and Valorous, Sir Walter Raleigh Knight, Lo. Warden of the Stanneryes, and her Majesties Lieutenant of the County of Cornwall Sir knowing how doubtfully all allegories may be construed, and this book of mine, which I have entitled the Faery Queene, being a continued allegory, or dark conceit, I have thought good as well for avoiding of jealous opinions and misconstructions, as also for your better light in reading thereof, (being so by you commanded) to discover unto you the general intention and meaning, which in the whole course thereof I have fashioned, without expressing of any particular purposes or by accidents therein occasioned. The general end therefore of all the book is to fashion a gentleman or noble person in virtuous and gentle discipline: which for that I conceived should be most plausible and pleasing, being coloured with an historical fi ction, the which the most part of men delight to read, rather for variety of matter, then for profi t of the ensample: I chose the history of King Arthur, as most fi t for the excellency of his person being made famous by many men’s former works, and also furthest from the danger of envy, and suspicion of present time. In which I have followed all the antique poets historical, fi rst Homer, who in the Persons of Agamemnon and Ulysses hath ensampled a good governor and a virtuous man, the one in his Ilias, the other in his Odysseys: then Virgil, whose like intention was to do in the person of Aeneas: after him Ariosto comprised them both in his Orlando: and lately Tasso dissevered them again, and formed both parts in two persons, namely that part which they in Philosophy call Ethic, or virtues of a private man, coloured in his Rinaldo: the other named Politic in his Godfredo. By ensample of which excellent poets, I labour to portrait in Arthur, before he was King, the image of a brave Knight, perfected in the twelve moral virtues, as Aristotle hath devised, the which is the purpose of these fi rst twelve books: which if I fi nd to be well accepted, I may be perhaps encouraged, to frame the other part of politic virtues in his person, after that he came to be King. To some I know this Method will seem displeasant, which had rather have good discipline delivered plainly in way of precepts, or sermoned at large, as they use, then thus cloudily enwrapped in allegorical devises. But such, me seem, should be satisfi ed with the use of these days seeing all things accounted by their shows, and nothing esteemed of, that is not delightful and pleasing to common sense. For this cause Xenophon preferred before Plato, for that the one in the exquisite depth of his judgement, formed a Commonwealth such as it should be, but the other in the person of Cyrus and the Persians fashioned a government such as it might best be: so much more profi table and gracious is doctrine by ensample, then by rule. So have I laboured to do in the person of Arthur: whom I conceive after his long education by Timon, to whom he was by Merlin delivered to be brought up, so soon as he was borne of the Lady Ingrain, to have seen in a dream or vision the Faery Queen, with whose excellent beauty ravished, he awaking resolved to seek her out, and so being by Merlin armed, and by Timon thoroughly instructed, he went to seek her forth in Faerye land. In that Faery Queene I mean glory Lochithea 119 in my general intention, but in my particular I conceive the most excellent and glorious person of our Sovereign the Queen, and her Kingdom in Faery land. And yet in some places else I do otherwise shadow her. For considering she beareth two persons, the one of a most royal Queene or Empress, the other of a most virtuous and beautiful Lady, this latter part in some places I do express in Belphoebe, fashioning her name according to your own excellent conceit of Cynthia (Phoebe and Cynthia being both names of Diana). So in the person of Prince Arthur I set forth magnifi cence in particular, which virtue for that (according to Aristotle and the rest) it is the perfection of all the rest, and containeth in it them all, therefore in the whole course I mention the deeds of Arthur applicable to that virtue, which I write of in that book. But of the xii other virtues, I make xii other Knights the patrons, for the more variety of the history. Of which these three books contain three. The fi rst of the Knight of the Red Crosse, in whom I express Holiness. The second of Sir Guyon, in whom I set forth Temperance: the third of Britomartis a Lady Knight, in whom I picture chastity. But because the beginning of the whole work seemeth abrupt and as depending upon other antecedents, it needs that ye know the occasion of these three Knights several adventures. For the Method of a poet historical is not such, as of an historiographer. For an historiographer discourseth of affairs orderly as they were done, accounting as well the times as the actions, but a poet thrusteth into the middest, even where it most concerneth him, and there recoursing to the things forepaste, and divining of things to come, maketh a pleasing analysis of all. The beginning therefore of my history, if it were to be told by an historiographer should be the twelfth book, which is the last, where I devise that the Faery Queene kept her Annual feast xii days, upon which xii several days, the occasions of the xii several adventures, happened, which being undertaken by xii several Knights, are in these xii books severally handled and discoursed. The fi rst was this. In the beginning of the feast, there presented himself a tall clownish young man, who falling before the Queen of Faries desired a boone (as the manner then was) which during that feast she might not refuse: which was that he might have the achievement of any adventure, which during that feast should happen: that being granted, he rested him on the fl oor, unfi t through his rusticity for a better place. Soon after entered a faire Lady in mourning weeds, riding on a white ass, with a dwarf behind her leading a warlike steed, that bore the arms of a Knight, and his spear in the dwarf’s hand. She falling before the Queene of Faeries complained that her father and mother an ancient King and Queene, had been by an huge dragon many years shut up in a brazen castle, who thence suffered them not to issue: and therefore besought the Faery Queene to assign her some one of her Knights to take on him that exploit. Presently that clownish person upstarting, desired that adventure: whereat the Queene much wondering, and the Lady much gainsaying; yet he earnestly importuned his desire. In the end the Lady told him that unless that armour which she brought, would serve him (that is the armour of a Christian man specifi ed by Saint Paul v. Ephes.) that he could not succeed in that enterprise, which being forthwith put upon him with dew furnitures thereunto, he seemed the goodliest man in all that company, and was well liked of the Lady. And eftesoones taking on him Knighthood, and mounting on that strange courser, he went forth with her on that adventure: where beginneth the fi rst book, vz. 120 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

A gentle knight was pricking on the playne, &c. The second day there came in a palmer bearing an infant with bloody hands, whose parents he complained to have been slain by an enchantress called Acrasia: and therefore craved of the Faery Queene, to appoint him some Knight, to perform that adventure, which being assigned to Sir Guyon, he presently went forth with that same palmer: which is the beginning of the second book and the whole subject thereof. The third day there came in a groom, who complained before the Faery Queene, that a vile enchanter called Busirane had in hand a most faire Lady called Amoretta, whom he kept in most grievous torment, because she would not yield him the pleasure of her body. Whereupon Sir Scudamour the lover of that Lady presently took on him that adventure. But being unable to perform it by reason of the hard enchantments, after long sorrow, in the end he met with Britomartis who succoured him, and rescued his love. But by occasion hereof, many other adventures are intermeddled, but rather as accidents, then intendments. As the love of Britomart, the overthrow of Marinell, the misery of Florimell, the virtuousness of Belphoebe, the lasciviousness of Hellenora, and many the like. Thus much Sir, I have brieﬂ y overrun to direct your understanding to the well-head of the history, that from thence gathering the whole intention of the conceit, ye may as in a handful gripe all the discourse, which otherwise may happily seem tedious and confused. So humbly craving the continuance of your honourable favour towards me, and the eternal establishment of your happiness, I humbly take leave. Yours most humbly affectionate. Ed. Spenser.

Courageous Turk How now, ye heavens! Grow you So proud, that you must needs put on curled locks, And clothe yourselves in periwigs of ﬁ re! Thomas Goff40

A feast of wits ends the season and I am commissioned to prepare an ofﬁ cial document that need justify her Majesty and her religious policies. In continuance, I am appointed Member of Parliament for Liverpool whilst an expedition ’gainst Spain hath been launched under her Majesty’s permission; The Earl of Essex follows Sir John Norris and Sir Francis Drake and joins the ﬂ eet under the ignorance of the Queen: the result of the incurring of her displeasure; she would not only have been unwilling to let Essex himself be absent or in danger, but wished besides that the expedition itself should seem to have been undertaken rather by the eagerness of private person than by appointment of the Sovereign.41

40 Poet at the University of Oxford, in the reign of James I. 41 Spedding: Works, vol. xii. p. 50 Lochithea 121

Poem by an unknown poet Thy voyages attend, Industrious Hackluit,42 Whose reading shall inﬂ ame Men to seek fame, And much commend To after times thy wit.

Her Majesty forwards the Earl of Essex to France to fortitude the immense losses in battle of the Spanish invasion that is lead by Lord Willoughby. Her letter to Henry IV., “according to the promise which I have always kept in your behalf, my dearest brother, I send 4.000 men to your aid, with a Lieutenant who appears very competent. His quality, and the place he holds about me, are such, that it is not customary to permit him to be absent from me.” Henry offers his gratitude for the sending and praises her further in his reply: “I beg you to permit me to go and kiss your hand43 as King of Navarre and to spend two hours with you so that at least once in my life I may have the honour of seeing her to whom I have dedicated my time and my life and whom I love and revere more than anything in the world.”44 And of one more writ to Essex from Spenser: “To the most honourable and excellent Lo. The Earle of Essex. Great Master of the Horse to her Highness, and Knight of the Noble order of the Garter. &c.: Magnifi cke Lord, whose virtues excellent do merit a most famous poet’s wit, to be thy living praises instrument, yet do not deign, to let thy name be writ in this base poem, for thee far unfi t. Nought is thy worth disparaged thereby, but when my Muse, whose feathers nothing fl it do yet but fl ag, and lowly learn to fl y with bolder wing shall dare aloft to stay to the last praises of this Faery Queene, then shall it make more famous memory of thine heroic parts, such as they been: till then vouchsafe thy noble countenance, to these fi rst labours needed furtherance.” Anthony reporteth of a letter he hath received from Captain Francis Allen, that My Lord of Essex hath chased Mr. Raleigh from the Court and confi ned him in Ireland.45 ’Twere good I become Dean of the Chapel of Gray’s Inn, for this allows me to elaborate on my writing of the new method. To my utter dismay, I hear from Dr. Dee that his house be broken into, but relief settles upon my being, for nothing is taken; and that the witches of Warboys, a small village in Huntingdonshire, where one Robert Throgmorton, Esq., ancestor of Oliver Cromwell, hath much ado with witchcraft this ending season.46

42 November 17, 1589: Hakluit dedicated his Principal Navigations, Voyages, and Discoveries of the English Nation to Sir Walsingham 43 The custom of kissing the hand is an ancient one; Homer writes that Priam kisses the hands and embraces the knees of Achilles, while he begs for Hector’s body 44 See Felix Pryor: Elizabeth I: Her life in letters, 2003 45 Mr. Edwards: Life of Raleigh, i. c. viii 46 J. Taylor: History of Witchcraft, 1867 122 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Witchcraft in Northamptonshire Of witchcraft, witches, and unholy rites Practised on blasted heath or barren moor, By lightning’s forked fl ash and thunder’s roar; Of rides on hurdles, and of broomstick fl ights By withered hags, on wild tempestuous nights; Of impious incantations, hellish lore, Of impish whelps that fi endish amours bore; Of philtres, charms, and strange, uncanny sights: How ancient granddames in the olden times, By public laws, or private judgment, found Guilty of witchcraft (worst of human crimes), Died at the stake, or in the mill-pond drowned; Of conjurations dire, forbidden spells, And lawless orgies, this our history tells. John Askham

Earliest accounts of secret writing date back to Herodotus, “the father of history” according to the Roman philosopher and statesman Cicero.47 According to Herodotus, it was the art of secret writing that saved Greece from being conquered by Xerxes, King of Kings, the despotic leader of the Persians.48 Consequently, Abbot Trithemius states that there remain two appendices touching the transmission of knowledge in general; the one Critical, the other Pedagogical. For as the principal part of transmission of knowledge consists in the writing of books, so the relative part thereof turns on the reading of books. Now reading is either directed by teachers, or attained by each man’s own endeavours; and to this these two knowledges, which he mentioned, appertain: “To the critical part belongs, ﬁ rst, the true correction and amended edition of approved authors; whereby both themselves receive justice and their students light. Yet in this the rash diligence of some has done no little harm. For many critics, when they meet a passage, which they do not understand, immediately suppose that there is a fault in the copy. As in that passage of Tacitus, where he relates that when a certain colony asserted before the senate the right of asylum, their arguments were not very favourably listened to by the emperor and the senate; whereupon the ambassadors, fearing for the success of their cause, gave a good sum of money to Titus Vinius to support them, by which means they prevailed. “Then,” says Tacitus, “the dignity and antiquity of the colony had its weight;” meaning that the arguments which appeared light before gained fresh weight by the money. But a critic, and he not one of the worst, here erased the word tum, and substituted tantum. And this bad habit of critics has brought it to pass that (as some one has wisely remarked) “the most corrected copies are often the least correct.” Moreover, to speak truly, unless critics be learned in

47 Mommsen, vol. iv. p. 641 says of Cicero: “As a statesman without insight, opinion, or purpose, he fi gured successively as democrat, as aristocrat, and as a tool of the monarchs, and William Shakespeare never more than a short-sighted egotist.” 48 See Simon Singh: The Code Book, 1999 Lochithea 123 the sciences which the books they edit treat of, their diligence is not without its danger. Secondly, there belongs to the Critical part the interpretation and explication of authors, commentaries, scholia, annotations, collections of beauties, and the like. In labours of this kind however some of the critics have been visited with that very bad disease, of leaping over many of the obscurer places, while they linger and expatiate to tediousness on those which are clear enough; as if the object were not so much to illustrate the author as to display on every possible opportunity the extensive learning and various reading of the critic himself. It were especially to be desired (though this is a matter which belongs rather to the art of transmission in the main, than to the appendices thereof) that every writer who handles arguments of the obscurer and more important kind, should himself subjoin his own explanations; that so the text may not be interrupted by digressions and expositions, and the notes may not be at variance with the writer’s meaning. Something of the kind I suspect in Theon’s commentary on Euclid. There belongs thirdly to the Critical part (and from this indeed it derives its name) the inserting of some brief judgment concerning the authors edited, and comparison of them with other writers on the same subjects; that students may by such censure be both advised what books to read and better prepared when they come to read them. This last offi ce is indeed, so to speak, the critic’s chair; which has certainly in our age been ennobled by some great men, men in my judgment above the stature of critics. As for the Pedagogical part, the shortest rule would be, “Consult the schools of the Jesuits;” for nothing better has been put in practice. Nevertheless, I am clearly in favour of a collegiate education for boys and young men; not in private houses, nor merely under schoolmasters. For in colleges there is a greater emulation of the youths amongst themselves; there is also the sight and countenance of grave men, which tends to modesty, and forms their young minds from the very fi rst after that model; and in short there are very many advantages in a collegiate education. For the order and manner of teaching, I would say fi rst of all, avoid abridgments and a certain precocity of learning, which makes the mind over bold, and causes great profi ciency rather in show than in fact. Also, let some encouragement be given to the free exercise of the pupils’ minds and tastes; I mean, if any of them, besides performing the prescribed exercises, shall steal time withal for other pursuits to which he is more inclined, let him not be checked. Observe moreover (what perhaps has not hitherto been remarked) that there are two ways of training and exercising and preparing the mind, which proceed in opposite directions. The one begins with the easier tasks, and so leads on gradually to the more diffi cult; the other begins by enforcing and pressing the more diffi cult, that when they are mastered the easier ones may be performed with pleasure. For it is one method to begin swimming with bladders, which keep you up; and another to begin dancing with heavy shoes, which weigh you down. Nor is it easy to tell how much a judicious intermixture of these methods helps to advance the faculties of the mind and body. Again, the application and choice of studies according to the nature of the mind is to be taught, is a matter of wonderful use and judgment; the due and careful observation whereof is due from the masters to the parents, that they may be able to advise them as to the course of life they should choose for their sons. And herein it should be carefully observed, that as a man will advance far fastest in those pursuits to which he is naturally inclined, so with respect to those for which he is by defect of nature most unsuited there are found in studies properly chosen a cure and remedy for his defects. For 124 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals example, if one be bird-witted, that is easily distracted and unable to keep his attention as long as he should, mathematics provides a remedy; for in them if the mind be caught away but a moment, the demonstration has to be commenced anew. Enemies themselves deny not burial. When with kisses and tears I shall have satiated my grief, command me also to be slain beside him; only let these my fellows, seeing we are put to death for no crime, but because we consulted for the good of the legions, have leave to bury us. With which words he excited such excessive jealousy and alarm, that, had it not shortly afterwards appeared that nothing of the sort had happened, nay, that he had never had a brother, the soldiers would hardly have kept their hands off the prefect; but the fact was that he played the whole thing as if it had been a piece on the stage. And now I am come to the end of my treatise concerning Rational Knowledges; wherein if I have sometimes made the divisions other than those that are received, yet let it not be thought that I disallow all those divisions, which I do not use. For there is a double necessity imposed upon me of altering the divisions. First, because to reduce into one class things next in nature, and to gather into one bundle things wanted for use, are operations differing in the very end and intention. For as a secretary of a King or State, when he arranges his papers in his study or general cabinet, puts those things together no doubt, which are of like nature, treatises by themselves in one place, instructions by themselves in another, foreign letters, domestic letters, and the like, each apart by themselves, but when on the contrary he arranges them in his boxes or particular cabinet, he puts those together which, though of different kinds, he thinks he will have occasion to use together; so in this general cabinet of knowledge it was necessary for me to make the divisions according to the nature of the things themselves, whereas if I had been to handle any particular knowledge I should have adopted the divisions fi ttest for use and practice. Secondly, because the introduction of the Disiderata, and the incorporation of them with the rest, involved as a consequence an alteration in the distribution of the existing sciences. For suppose (by way of demonstration) that the arts which we now have are as 15, and that the same with the Disiderata added are as 20; I say that the factors of the number 15 are not the same with the factors of the number 20. For the factors of 15 are 3 and 5; the factors of 20 are 2, 4, 5, and 10. It is plain therefore that these things could not be otherwise. And so much for the Logical Sciences.” The fi rst known European book to describe the use of cryptography was Friar Roger Bacon’s Epistle on the Secret Works of Art and the Nullity of Magic, which includes seven methods for keeping messages secret.49 Of interest comes Geoffrey Chaucer, an astronomer

49 Extract from A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature: J.W. Cousins, 1910: Friar Roger Bacon (1214?–1294), philosopher, studied at Oxford and Paris. His scientifi c acquire- ments, regarded in that age as savouring of witchcraft, and doubtless also his protests against the ignorance and immorality of the clergy, excited the jealousy and hatred of the Franciscans, and he was in consequence imprisoned at Paris for ten years. Clement IV., who had been a sympathiser, desired on his accession to see his works, and in response Bacon sent him Opus Majus, a treatise on the sciences (grammar, logic, mathematics, physics, and philosophy), followed by Opus Secundum and Opus Tertium. Clement, however, was near death when they arrived. Bacon was comparatively free from persecution for the next ten years. But in 1278 he was again imprisoned for upwards of ten years. At the intercession of some English noblemen he Lochithea 125 and cryptographer; in his Treatise on the Astrolabe he provides some additional notes, The Equatorie of the Planetis, which include several encrypted paragraphs. It’s well known that Sir Amias Paulet, a Puritan, and accompanier of Lord Bacon to France (1576–79) acted as the jailer to Mary Queen of Scots, who was imprisoned in a series of castles and manors after her fl ee from Scotland in 1568. Paulet is known to have been immune to Mary’s cunning and sugared character and treated her with increasing harshness. He seized all her incoming correspondence yet underestimated her supporters, one of them, Gilbert Gifford. In 1586 Gifford delivered her a bundle of letters from supporters around the Continent. His method was simple: the messages were taken to a local brewer, then wrapped in a leather packet, hidden inside hollow bungs used to seal barrels of beer that would be delivered to Chartley Hall where Mary was being jailed. One of her servants would bring her the messages. In the meantime, Anthony Babington, twenty-four, was planning her escape: “Myself with ten gentlemen and a hundred of our followers will undertake the delivery of your royal person from the hands of your enemies,” he wrote to her. In this letter, Babington used a cipher, should Paulet intercept the letter of his plot. This cipher was the nomenclator, consisting of a cipher alphabet and code words. Although Gifford was acting as Mary’s agent, he became a double agent; in a letter to Walsingham, Queen Elizabeth I.’s spymaster, he writes: “I have heard of the work you do and I want to serve you. I have no scruples and no fear of danger. Whatever you order me to do I will accomplish.” So, Gifford would detour Mary’s letters and responses to Walsingham who would break the seal on each letter, copy the letter, hand it back to Gifford then on to Mary. Porta’s Natural Magick published in 1584: “Melt sulphur, and cast it into powder of ceruse, while it is melted. Put this mixture upon the seal, but fence it about with paper or wax, or chalk, and press it down. When it is cold, take it off, and in that shall you have the print of the seal. I will do it another way. Fill an earthen pot with vinegar. Cast vitriol into it, and a good deal of verdigrease. Let it bubble on the fi re, put plates of iron to it. After a short time take them out, and from the outside with you knife, scrape off a knife of rust it has contracted that is dirty as it were. And put this into a dish under it. Again, put them into the earthen pot, and scrape more off when you take them out. Do this so often, till you have some quantity of this dirty substance. Cast quicksilver into this, and make a mixture. And while it is soft and tender, lay it on the seal and press it down. And let it remain in the open air, for it will grow so hard, that you may almost seal with it. For it will become even like to a metal. It may be also done another way. Take the fi lings of steel, and put them in an earthen at a strong fi re. Put such things to it, as will hasten the melting of it. When it is melted, cast it into some hollow place, pound it with a brass mortar, or it will be easily done. Do it so three or four times. Then powder it, and mingle quicksilver with it, and let it boil in a

was at last released, and spent his remaining years at Oxford. He possessed one of the most commanding intellects of his own, or perhaps of any age, and notwithstanding all the disadvantages and discouragements to which he was subjected, made many discoveries, and came near to many more. There is still preserved at Oxford a rectifi ed calendar in which he approximates closely to the truth. He received the sobriquet of the “Doctor Mirabilis.” 126 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals glazed vessel six hours, till it is well mingled. Then press the seal upon it, and let it cool, and it will become exceeding hard. It is possible, to open letters, and shut them without suspicion. We use to seal letters, putting paper upon them, which goes through the letter on one side, and wax is put on the other side, where it comes forth, and there it is sealed. You shall open the letter thus: break away that part of the paper, that is put upon the place, where it passes through the letter, and the hole is, the letter opens presently. Read it, and shut it again, and put the paper torn off, in its proper place. First, anointing the crack with gum traganth, dissolved in water. For the paper will be so glued, that it will be stronger there then elsewhere. Press it with a small weight, till it grows dry. The fraud cannot be discovered, because the glue is white, and is not known from the color of the paper.” One of these letters was from Babington in cipher; Walsingham needed to decipher it fi rst of which he did, using his knowledge from Girolamo Cardano’s50 work, and the assistance of Thomas Phelippes, Europe’s fi nest cryptanalysts and linguist. On deciphering Babington’s plot-letter, Walsingham allowed for the plot to widen, as did King James I.51 Babington and his accomplices were captured and executed: “they were all cut down, their privities were cut off, bowelled alive and seeing, and quartered.52 On February 8, 1587, Mary was executed after being found guilty by the Star Chamber in Westminster of “compassing and imagining matters to the death and destruction of the Queen of England.” In the Great Hall of Fotheringhay Castle, many gathered to watch her beheading; one was Richard Wingfi eld, and his account follows: “Then she laid herself upon the block most quietly, and stretching out her arms and legs cried out In manus tuas domine three of four times, and at the last, while one of the executioners held her slightly with one of his hands, the other gave two strokes with an axe before he cut off her head, and yet left a little gristle behind at which time she made very small noise and stirred not any part of herself from the place where she lay; her lips stirred up and down almost a quarter of an hour after her head was cut off. Then one of her executioners plucking of her garters espied her little dog, which was crept under her clothes, which could not be gotten forth but with force and afterwards could not depart from her dead corpse, but came and lay between her head and shoulders; a thing diligently noted.” Of Mary Queen of Scots, William Camden gives an account in his Diaries dated 1587: “This lamentable end had Mary Queen of Scots, daughter to James V. King of Scots, great granddaughter to Henry VII. King of England by his eldest daughter, in the sixth and fortieth year of her age, and of her imprisonment the eighteenth. A woman most constant in her religion, of singular piety towards God, invincible in magnanimity of mind, wisdom above her sex, and passing beauty, a Lady to be reckoned amongst those Princesses which have changed felicity for calamity. Being an infant, she was earnestly sought after by Henry V. King of England, for his son Prince Edward, and by Henry II. King of France,

50 Italian mathematician and cryptographer; proposed a form for the blind based on touch: Braille’s predecessor 51 Simon Singh: The Code Book, 1999 52 William Camden (1551–1623) and his Annals is an important guide to the researcher: a historian whose nature was to record in minutes King James I’s life in exact detail. It should be noted that the last public hanging in Britain was in 1868 Lochithea 127 for Francis the Dolphin, both of them striving who should have her to his daughter-in- law. At fi ve years old she was carried into France, and at fi fteen married to the Dolphin. She was Queen of France one year and four months. After the death of her husband she returned into Scotland, was married again to Henry Stuart Lord Darley, and bare James, the fi rst Monarch of Great Britain. By Murray her base brother, and other her unthankful and ambitious subjects, she was much tossed and troubled, deposed from the Crown, and driven into England. By those Englishmen that were careful for retaining their religion, and maintaining the Queen’s safety, she was (as indifferent censurers have thought) circumvented, and by others that were desirous to restore the Romish religion, thrust forward into dangerous designs, and overborne with the testimonies of her secretaries, who seemed to be corrupted with money. Near her tomb this Epitaph, following as set up, and soon after taken away:

A KING’S DAUGHTER, THE KING OF FRANCE HIS WIDOW THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND’S KINSWOMAN AND NEXT HEIR A PRINCESSES ACCOMPLISHED WITH ROYAL VIRTUES AND A ROYAL MIND, HAVING MANY TIMES (BUT IN VAIN) CRAVED HER ROYAL PRIVILEGE, IS BY BARBAROUS AND TYRANNOUS CRUELTY EXTINCT, BEING THE ORNAMENT OF OUR AGE AND A LIGHT TRULY ROYAL; AND BY ONE AND THE SAME WICKED SENTENCE IS BOTH MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS DOOMED TO A NATURAL DEATH AND ALL SURVIVING KINGS, BEING MADE AS COMMON PEOPLE ARE SUBJECTED TO A CIVIL DEATH. A NEW AND UNEXAMPLED KIND OF TOMB IS HERE EXTANT WHEREIN THE LIVING ARE INCLUDED WITH THE DEAD FOR KNOW THAT WITH THE SACRED HEARSE OF SAINT MARY HERE LIETH VIOLATE AND PROSTRATE THE MAJESTY OF ALL KINGS AND PRINCES; AND BECAUSE READER THAT TRAVAILEST THIS WAY THE UNREVEALABLE SECRET OF KINGS DOTH MOST SUFFICIENTLY ADMONISH KINGS OF THEIR DUTY. I SAY NO MORE.

By this most lamentable fate of so great a Princess appeared most evidently (as some wise men have observed) the disposition of the Divine providence. For the things which both Queens Elizabeth and Mary most of all desired, and in all their Councils propounded to themselves, hereby were attained. Queen Mary (as she said even at her death) desired nothing more ardently then that the divided Kingdoms of England Scotland might be united in the person of her most dear son; and there was nothing which Queen Elizabeth wished more earnestly then that the true religion, with the safety and security of the people, might be preserved in England. And that the high God granted to both their prayers, England now seeth with unexpected felicity, and most joyfully acknowledgeth.”53 The meticulous work gone into the deciphering of Dr. Rawley’s epitaph by Mr. Theobald, must be mentioned:54 Mr. Theobald barely stays under the subject too long,

53 See Jimmy McGovern’s Gunpowder, Treason & Plot, a BBC 2004 production, where Robert Carlyle (one of the acclaimed Scottish actors amongst the cast) portrays the role of King James I. 54 I would like to thank the British Library for permission to reproduce Mr. Theobald’s material 128 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals eager to guide through the coded labyrinth: “Having already deciphered a mass of cryptography in the Shakespeare works and those of other contemporary writers, I have found that two statements were constantly revealed: (1) that Bacon was the true “Shakespeare” and (2) that, although Sir Nicholas and Lady Anne Bacon were his foster parents, his natural parents were Queen Elizabeth and her so-called “Favourite,” Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. One day it occurred to me that just as the epitaphs of Bacon, Shakspere and others contain hidden allusions to these two secrets, it was possible that the epitaph on Dr. Rawley’s tombstone might conceal information corroborating these, and so, I think, it proved.” Mr. Theobald immediately continues with Lord Bacon’s ciphers generally used by him and his associates:

ABCIJKLUVZ Simple cipher 123910112024 Reverse cipher 24 23 22 16 15 14 5 1 K cipher 27 28 29 35 10 11 20 24

An example on how to use the above table:

BACON 2131413 = 33 = in simple cipher

And a second example is given:

S HAKES PEARE 18 34 27 10 31 18 15 31 27 17 31 = 259 = in K cipher

What he needed to do in order to decipher Rawley’s epitaph, was, “to make a count of the words and letters, remembering that Roman numerals are often included when counting letters. We must also differentiate between upper and lower case letters, and small letters above the line.” He goes through detailed accounts regarding his process and later on describes the wheel cipher that Lord Bacon also used from Abbot Trithemius: “Write the alphabet all round a circular disc, say of cardboard, and a second alphabet on an inner concentric disc. Place the inner one upon the other, ﬁ xed in such a manner that it can revolve freely. By this means any letters can be shifted so many places to the right or left, and thus brought opposite other letters required.”

ABCDEFGHIKL 5 right F G H I K L M N O P Q 6 left R S T V X Z A B C D E Lochithea 129

MNOPQRSTVXZ 5 right R S T V X Z A B C D E 6 left F G H I K L M N O P Q

Mr. Theobald explains the above alphabet sequence: “Notice that Trithemius used a 22-letter alphabet. Not only were I and J interchangeable, also U and V, as in the ordinary Elizabethan alphabet, but W was included with V, and there was no Y.” In concluding with this pamphlet, I shall add his last words on the last page: “The epitaph has responded to every test applied, and has yielded concise information on the two subjects under consideration.” To remind the Reader, the two subjects were (1) that Bacon was the true “Shakespeare” and (2) that, although Sir Nicholas and Lady Anne Bacon were his foster parents, his natural parents were Queen Elizabeth and her so-called “Favourite,” Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. It is an interesting document, as many interesting documents that exist in libraries, private collections and antiquary bookstores. James Spedding’s personal opinion on Lord Bacon’s cipherology is interesting to insert at this point:55 “The earliest writer, I believe, on ciphers, except Trithemius whom he [Bacon] quotes, is John Baptist Porta, whose work De Occultis literarum Notis was reprinted in Strasburg in 1606. The fi rst edition was published when Porta was a young man. The species of ciphers, which Bacon mentions, are described in this work. What he calls the ciphra simplex is doubtless that in which each letter is replaced by another in accordance with a secret alphabet. (Porta, ii. c. 5.) The wheel cipher is that in which the ordinary alphabet and a secret one are written respectively on the rim of two concentric disks, so that each letter of the fi rst correspond in each position of the second (which is movable) to a letter of the secret alphabet. Thus in each position of the movable disk we have a distinct cipher, and in using the instrument this disk is made to turn through a given angle after each letter has been written. The ciphra clavis is described by Porta, book ii. 15,16. It is a cipher of position; that is, one in which the diffi culty is obtained not by replacing the ordinary alphabet by a new one, but by deranging the order in which the letters of a sentence or paragraph succeed each other. This is done according to a certain form of words or series of numbers, which constitute the key. The cipher of words was given by Trithemius and in another form by Porta, ii. 19. (and in a different shape, v. 16.). It is a cipher, which is meant to escape suspicion. The idea of a biliteral alphabet, which Bacon seems to claim as his own, is employed, though in a different manner, by Porta. His method is in effect this: he reduces the alphabet to sixteen letters, and then takes the eight different arrangements aaa, aba, &c., to represent them; each arrangement representing two letters indifferently: the ambiguity arising from hence he seems to disregard. In this manner he reduces any given word or sentence to a succession of a’s and b’s. At this point his method, of which he has given several modifi cations, departs wholly from Bacon’s. Let us suppose the biliteral series to commence with aababb. A word of two syllables and beginning with a indicates that two a’s commence the series; any monosyllable will serve to show that one b follows, another that it is succeeded by one a, and then any dissyllable will stand for bb. Thus Amo

55 Spedding: Works, vol. ii. Appendix 130 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals te mi fi li or Amat qui non sapit will represent the biliteral arrangement aababb, and so on on a larger scale. Porta’s method is therefore not, like Bacon’s, a method scribendi onmia per omnia, but only omnia per multa. Still the analogy of the two methods is to be remarked: both aim at concealing that there is any but the obvious meaning, and both depend essentially on representing all letters by combinations of two only.” Augustus, the Younger, Duke of Brunswick-Lüneburg, nom-de-plume Gustavus Selenus had in his possession hundreds of thousands of printed volumes and thousands of manuscripts of which he founded the Bibliotheca Augusta in Wolfenbüttel. He attended the coronation of James I., whilst on his travels. His masterwork entitled Cryptomenytices et Cryptographiæ Libri IX56 written in 1624 contains his invention of eight different cipher methods. “Secret Suggestion, again, is accomplished through the secret lowering of the voice, through the subdued utterance of words into a tube, or through the confi nement of the voice in a pipe, or greater conduit.57 Secret lowering of the voice is the act of speaking under the breath to one in our presence. But this practice, as being undignifi ed and liable to suspicion, shall form no part of our art (see Cardano, De Subtilitate, Bk. 12.); turn we, rather, to the other methods of Secret Suggestion. The subdued utterance of words through a tube or greater conduit, takes place between those separated in space. The confi nement of a voice, as articulate speech, in a pipe, takes place between those separated in space and at great distance from each other.” On these two Modes, it is worth while hearing Walch, Decad. Fab., 9, p. 223, who discourses to the following effect: “Our subject of discourse and inquiry at the present time is not that Mode of secret speech, whereby two friends, stationed at positions very far apart, say, a distance you would hardly believe possible, two or three hundred paces or even more, are able, by talking through a leaden or copper tube, to converse safely with each other, with no sound of what is passing reaching the ears of those standing between the two points. As respects this Mode, it may be said that, if the words are assisted by being enclosed in regular conduits and by being kept uninjured and safe from the danger of contact with rocks, they may be transmitted through passages of very great length, and issue from the other end of the pipe still unimpaired and distinct, very little, if any, later than the moment of their utterance, and this while those standing between the two points are, to a man, unaware of what is said and as if deaf.” John Moody Emerson: Two Anagrams, 1912: The last two lines of William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 109:

For nothing this wide universe I call, Save thou my Rose, in it thou art my all. 61 letters

56 Translated from Latin into English by Dr. John William Henry Walden under the title, A Complete System of Cryptography by Gustavus Selenus—See also Charles P. Bowditch: The Connection of Francis Bacon with the First Folio, 1910 57 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum Lochithea 131

Anagram I Francis Verulam, to his loving dualitie Henry Wriothesley Southampton 61 letters

In 1592 Montaigne published his Essays; in 1597 Francis Bacon published his. Montaigne is a sort of French Bacon, whilst Francis an English Montaigne. An extract from Montaigne’s journal: “On Friday to the shop of the Giunti where I bought a collection of comedies, two in number, and certain other books.” Question: were any of those comedies the basis of Merchant of Venice, Two Gentlemen of Verona and other William Shakespeare plays?

An Excellent Dream of Ladies and their Riddles Within a fl ower a seed there grows, Which sometime falls, but seldom springs, And if it spring, it seldom blows, And if it blow, no sweet it brings, And therefore counted but a weed: Now guess the fl ower, and what the seed. In fancy fl ower is sorrows seed, Which sometimes falls, but springs but seed, And if it spring, tis but a weed, Which doth no sweet, nor savour yield, And yet the fl ower, both fair and sweet, And for a Prince’s garden meet. Nicholas Breton58

John Baptist Porta’s Natural Magick published in 1584 has this to offer: “When you have written on parchment, put it to the light of a candle, or to the fi re, and it will all crumble and run together, and be nothing like it was. If a man look on it, he will hardly suspect any fraud. If he desires to read what is in it, let him lay it on moist places, or sprinkle it gently with water, and it will be dilated again, and all the wrinkles will be gone. And it will appear as it did at fi rst, that you may read the letters upon it, without any hindrance. Now I will show the way, how in the sections of books the characters shall be hid. When the book is well bound and cut and coloured black, if we open it, and turn back the leaves, that they may be turned in, we may write at the corners of the leaves what we will. But when the book is set back again, and the leaves put into their own places, nothing is seen or can be imagined to be writ in them. But he that would read those letters, must set the book that way as it was, and the letters will be read. So may we write on fl y traps, that are made with wrinkles, and then draw them forth. If need be, we may do, to hide letters in the bowels of living creatures. For we wrapt them in some meat, and

58 Nicholas Breton (1545–1626)—University of Oregon: The Phoenix Nest, 1600 132 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals give them to a dog, or some other creature to swallow, that when he is killed, the letters may be found in his belly. And there is nothing neglected to make this way certain. The like was done by Harpagus he, as Herodotus says, being to discover to Cyrus some secrets, when the ways were stopped, that he could do it by no other means, he delivered the letters to a faithful servant, who went like a hunter, that had caught a hare; and in her belly were the letters put. When the guts were taken forth, and so they were brought to Persis. We use also, to shut up letters in stones. Flints are beaten very fi ne in brazen mortars, and sifted. Then are they melted in a brass cauldron, by putting two ounces of colophonia to one pound of the powder of the stone, and mingling them. Put your letters into leaden plates, and hide them in the middle of the composition, and put the lump into a linen bag, and tie it fast, that it may be round; then sink it into cold water, and it will grow hard and appear like a fl int. How letters may be made, that will soon vanish: make them with the strongest aqua vītae [pure alcohol] or use camphire and burned straws. For the letters in time, will decay and vanish. The tincture will fall off, when the glutinous matter is gone. Make a powder of a very fi ne touchstone, for the sandy stone will sooner decay, that no letter shall be seen.”

* Chop off the cipher head! We continue: her Majesty hath made peace the summer of her cogitations, and therefore hath not cast away the cares of war lest she should be surprised at unawares by the Spaniard, and maketh leaves of men in England and the South part of Ireland; there she fortifi es Duncanon at the mouth of the River Suire, and Milford Haven in Wales, with new works; for the safe-guarding of her Navy she now assigneth £8.970 yearly upon security given by the Viscount Turain she lends fi rst 33.333 Crownes more for the leaving of an army in Germany under the conduct of the Prince of Anhols, and afterward as much upon security given by Beavoir and Incarvill. Every two months she pays to the Garisons in Flushing and Briell 125.000 fl orins, and to 3.000 horse and foot serving in the Netherlands, 26.000 more; she sends forth many ships every way, she is of great charges ’gainst the attempts of the Bishop of Rome and the Spaniard in Scotland, and also she repay beyond expectation the money borrowed not long since of her subjects. Insomuch as very many admire whence this wealth came to supply these turns, seeing she is in no man’s debt (as almost all other Princes are), and is able to defend her self and hers without foreign helps, which not one of her neighbour Kings can do.59

Francis Bacon Essay VI. Of Simulation and Dissimulation. Dissimulation is but a faint kind of policy or wisdom; for it asketh a strong wit and a strong heart to know when to tell truth, and to do it. Therefore it is the weaker sort of politics that are the great dissemblers. Tacitus saith, Livia sorted well with the arts of her husband and dissimulation of her son; attributing arts or policy to Augustus, and dissimulation to Tiberius. And again,

59 William Camden: Diaries Lochithea 133 when Mucianus encourageth Vespasian to take arms against Vitellius, he saith, We rise not against the piercing judgment of Augustus, nor the extreme caution or closeness of Tiberius. These properties, of arts or policy and dissimulation or closeness, are indeed habits and faculties several, and to be distinguished. For if a man have that penetration of judgment as he can discern what things are to be laid open, and what to be secreted, and what to be shewed at half lights, and to whom and when, (which indeed are arts of state and arts of life, as Tacitus well calleth them,) to him a habit of dissimulation is a hinderance and a poorness. But if a man cannot obtain to that judgment, then it is left to him generally to be close, and a dissembler. For where a man cannot choose or vary in particulars, there it is good to take the safest and wariest way in general; like the going softly, by one that cannot well see. Certainly the ablest men that ever were have had all an openness and frankness of dealing; and a name of certainty and veracity; but then they were like horses well managed; for they could tell passing well when to stop or turn; and at such times when they thought the case indeed required dissimulation, if then they used it, it came to pass that the former opinion spread abroad of their good faith and clearness of dealing made them almost invisible. There be three degrees of this hiding and veiling of a man’s self. The fi rst, closeness, reservation, and secrecy; when a man leaveth himself without observation, or without hold to be taken, what he is. The second, dissimulation, in the negative; when a man lets fall signs and arguments that he is not that he is. And the third, simulation, in the affi rmative; when a man industriously and expressly feigns and pretends to be that he is not. For the fi rst of these, secrecy; it is indeed the virtue of a confessor. And assuredly the secret man heareth many confessions. For who will open himself to a blab or babbler? But if a man be thought secret, it inviteth discovery; as the more close air sucketh in the more open; and as in confession the revealing is not for worldly use, but for the ease of a man’s heart, so secret men come to the knowledge of many things in that kind; while men rather discharge their minds than impart their minds. In few words, mysteries are due to secrecy. Besides (to say truth) nakedness is uncomely, as well in mind as body; and it addeth no small reverence to men’s manners and actions, if they be not altogether open. As for talkers and futile persons, they are commonly vain and credulous withal. For he that talketh what he knoweth, will also talk what he knoweth not. Therefore set it down, that an habit of secrecy is both politic and moral. And in this part it is good that a man’s face give his tongue leave to speak. For the discovery of a man’s self by the tracts of his countenance is a great weakness and betraying; by how much it is many times more marked and believed than a man’s words. For the second, which is dissimulation; it followeth many times upon secrecy by a necessity; so that he that will be secret must be a dissembler in some degree. For men are too cunning to suffer a man to keep an indifferent carriage between both, and to be secret, without swaying the balance on either side. They will so beset a man with questions, and draw him on, and pick it out of him, that, without an absurd silence, he must shew an inclination one way; or if he do not, they will gather as much by his silence as by his speech. As for equivocations, or oraculous speeches, they cannot hold out long. So that no 134 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals man can be secret, except he give himself a little scope of dissimulation; which is, as it were, but the skirts or train of secrecy. But for the third degree, which is simulation and false profession; that I hold more culpable, and less politic; except it be in great and rare matters. And therefore a general custom of simulation (which is this last degree) is a vice, rising either of a natural falseness or fearfulness, or of a mind that hath some main faults, which because a man must needs disguise, it maketh him practise simulation in other things, lest his hand should be out of use. The great advantages of simulation and dissimulation are three. First, to lay asleep opposition, and to surprise. For where a man’s intentions are published, it is an alarum to call up all that are against them. The second is, to reserve to a man’s self a fair retreat. For if a man engage himself by a manifest declaration, he must go through or take a fall. The third is, the better to discover the mind of another. For to him that opens himself men will hardly shew themselves adverse; but will (fair) let him go on, and turn their freedom of speech to freedom of thought. And therefore it is a good shrewd proverb of the Spaniard, Tell a lie and fi nd a troth. As if there were no way of discovery but by simulation. There be also three disadvantages, to set it even. The fi rst, that simulation and dissimulation commonly carry with them a shew of fearfulness, which in any business doth spoil the feathers of round fl ying up to the mark. The second, that it puzzleth and perplexeth the conceits of many, that perhaps would otherwise co-operate with him; and makes a man walk almost alone to his own ends. The third and greatest, is, that it depriveth a man of one of the most principal instruments for action; which is trust and belief. The best composition and temperature is to have openness in fame and opinion; secrecy in habit; dissimulation in seasonable use; and a power to feign, if there be no remedy. Moniti meliora1 1591 (92) of the age thirty to 1594 of the age thirty-three

Men believe what they prefer —Francis Bacon

It is saith that Bothwell2 be accused to have consulted with witches, hath now escaped out of prison, infl amed with implacable hatred ’gainst Maitland Lord Chancellor, whom he suspects to be the chief author of his accusation, and to the end to seize both him and the King into his power, to brake into the King’s Court at Edinburgh, with certain conspirators, Scottish and English borderers; assayed to break open the Queen’s Chamber with a hammer, to set fi re on the King’s chamber, and to assail the Lord Chancellor’s house, both at once. But by the concourse of the citizens he is repulsed and fl ees. Some of his lackeys shalt be hanged. The hammer hath fastened to the Queen’s chamber door in memory of the fact.3 I could and do with great facility, rely upon the faith of another; but I should very unwillingly do it in such a case, as it should thereby be judged that it was rather an effect of my despair and want of courage than voluntarily and out of confi dence and security in the faith of him with whom I had to do. My guard therefore hath risen, as so my debts. Robert Devereux, the Earl of Essex, remaineth close behind as one of the name Hacket, religious, yet possessed by the senses, is executed for treason; above all, he pours forth prayers with a certain strange and outlandish fervour, falling upon his face, and rapt as it were in ecstasy, and like a man expostulating with God. Moreover there is one of his followers, who, being clearer sighted perhaps than the rest, forsakes him in consequence of a form of speech, which is familiar to him. For whereas all other men are wont in their

1 Family Bacon’s second motto: being instructed to better 2 Bothwell, Francis Stewart Hepburn: on a charge of witchcraft, he escaped from captivity in 1591 and was deprived by Parliament of his lands and titles; as an outlaw his career was one of extraordinary lawlessness. In 1591 he attempted to seize Holyroodhouse, and in 1593 he captured the King, forcing from him a promise of pardon. But almost at once he reverted to his former manner of life, and, although James failed to apprehend him, he was forced to take refuge in France about 1595. He died at Naples (July 1614) in extreme poverty. He had three sons, but his titles were never restored—Encyclopædia Britannica 3 Taken from corrections by Francis Bacon on William Camden’s Annals

135 136 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals invocation, so implore God’s presence, he alone asks of God that he would be pleased to absent and withdraw him self from the assembly of those who prayed: which the hearer imputed to excess of humility and yet it may have been the voice of Satan him self, put into Hacket’s mouth by the evil spirit that possessed him.4 From my dear French friends, various letters I receive; and one in particular, from Jean de la Jessé, private secretary to the Duke of Anjou, who hath adopted some of my misery. For his eloquent sonnet,5 I enclose below:

Monsieur Francois Bacon Sonnet Ce qu’ inspire du Ciel, et plein d’affection Je comble si souvent ma bouche, et ma poitrine Du sacré Nom fameus de ta Royne divine Ses valeurs en son cause et sa perfection. Si ce siecle de fer si mainte Nation Ingrate à ses honneurs, n’avait l’àme Æmantine Ravis de ce beau Nom, qu’aus Graces je destine Avec eus nous l’aurions en admiration. Donc-Baccon-s’il advient que ma Muse I’on vante Ce n’est pas qu’elle soit ou diserte, ou scavante: Bien que vostre Pallas me rende mieus instruit C;est pource que mon Lut chant sa gloire sainte Ou qu’en ces vers nayfz son Image est emprainte Ou que ta vertu Claire en mon ombre reluit. Jean de la Jessée

Howsoever gracious my scribbles betwixt friends, it doth offer no money for debts, nor food; and the quick use of candles that needeth to be dealt upon in making of candles to last long, for the faintest of candle fl ame sinks my scribbled words at my very sight. I will unbolt to you Reader Porta’s Natural Magick published in 1584 of how it may be, that a candle once lighted, should never be put out. Which seems very contrary to the reason of the corruptible things of this world, and to be past belief. But let us see fi rst whether the Ancients ever attempted it. We read in the Roman histories, that there was at Rome, in the temple of the goddess Vesta, and of Minerva, at Athens, and of Apollo, at Delphi, a perpetual fi re kindled. But this seems to be false, for I remember that I have read in many authors, that this perpetual fi re was always kept so by the Vestal Nuns, that it should never go out, as we fi nd it in Plutarch, in the Life of Numa.

4 Spedding: Works, vol. xii. p. 52 and from the additions and corrections by Francis Bacon on William Camden’s Annals 5 Rev. Walter Begley, 1903 from Anthony Bacon’s correspondence in the Lambeth Archiepiscopal Library Lochithea 137

And then in the time of the Civil War, and of Mithridates, it went out. At Delphi it was watched by widows, who took care, by always pouring in of oil that it should never go forth; but this failed, when the Medes burnt that temple. Of the same sort was that fi re, God appointed by Moses in the scriptures: the fi re shall always burn upon mine alter, which the priest shall always keep lighted, putting under wood day by day. Wherefore, the fi re was not perpetual in the temples of the gods of the Gentiles. Yet I read about the town Ateste near Padua, there was found an earthen pitcher, in which there was another little pitcher, and in that there was found a little light still burning, which by the hands of some ignorant fellows, pouring it rudely forth, was broken. And so the fl ame was put out. And in our time, about the year 600, in the island Nesis, that stands in Naples, there was a marble sepulchre of some Roman found, and that being opened, a vial was found with it, in which there was a candle. When this was broken, and it came to the light, it went out. It was shut in before the coming of our Savior. Some others I have heard of, by report of my friends, there were found and seen with their eyes: whence I collect this may be done, and was done by our ancestors. Let us see if we can do the same. Some say that oil of metals may last long, and almost perpetually, but this is false, for oil of metals will not burn. Other say, oil of juniper from the wood will last long, because the coals of that wood may be kept a whole year alive under ashes, but this is most false, because I kept a coal under ashes, and it would not last two, nor yet one day. And the oil of the wood burns most vehemently, and is sooner wasted away then common oil. Some boast they have drawn oil from the incombustible stone, thinking that fl ame cannot consume that, for a wick made thereof, will never be burnt and yet burns always, if you put oil always to it. But if that be true, that the wick is not consumed by fi re, yet that follows not that oil extracted from it, should burn always and never waste; and no man yet was ever seen to draw oil from the stone amiants that would burn. Others think that oil drawn from common salt, will last always; for if you cast salt into oil, it makes the oil in the lamp last twice as long, and not be consumed, which I affi rm to be true. Therefore if oil be distilled from it, it will burn always and never waste. Yet this follows not that oil drawn from salt will burn continually; and oil distilled from it will burn no more than a stone of aqua fortis, that parts gold and silver, of which kind it is. But it is an ignorant thing to imagine, that an oil may be made that shall burn always, and never consume, wherefore some other thing must be thought on. Some say (and they do not think foolishly) that fi re in a vial does not always burn; but in the vial there is some composition laid up, that so soon as it comes to air, presently takes fi re, and seems to burn only at that time, yet it never burned before. This may be true, for as I often have laboured in chemical matters, a glass well stopped, and forgot by me after the things were burned in it; and being left so for many months, I may say, many years. At last, being opened, has been seen to fl ame, and burn, and smoke. What I had burnt, I forgot, but they might be the same things, that I heard of by my friend, that had the same chance: for when he had boiled litharge, tartar, quicklime, and cinnaber in vinegar, until it was all evaporated, and then covering and luting the vessel well, he set it into a vehement fi re; and when it was enough, he set it by till it was cold. After some months, when he went to open it to see his work, a fl ame suddenly fl ew out of the vessel, and set on fi re some things, when as he thought of no such matter. And the same has happened to many more. 138 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Moreover, when I boiled linseed oil for the press, when the fl ames took within, I covered the pot with clothes to put it out; after some time I opened the vessel, the oil at the air coming to it fl amed again, and took fi re. But experience is against this opinion, for who saw a candle shut up close in a glass vial, and to keep its fl aming quality, and to give light? For the Ancients thought that the souls of the dead did always rest in the grave, as the ashes do, and that they might not lie in the dark, they endeavored all they could to send out this light, that their souls might enjoy light continually. Therefore we must think on another experiment, and make trial of it. But this must be held for a rare and fi rm principle in Nature’s shop, that the cause of wonders is because there can be no vacuum, and the frame of the work will sooner break asunder, and all things run to nothing, then there can be any such thing. Wherefore if a fl ame were shut up in a glass, and all the vent holes stopped close, if it could lash one moment, it would last continually, and it were not possible for it to be put out. There are many wonders declared in this book of Porta, and many more shall be set down, that have no other cause; but how the fl ame should be lighted within side, this is worth the while to know: it must be a liquor or some subtle substance, and that will evaporate but little; and if then it can be shut up in the glass, when the glass is shut it will last always. Which may easily be performed by burning-glasses, fi re, industry, and cunning. It cannot be extinguished, because the air can come in nowhere to fi ll up the emptiness of the vial. The oil is always turned into smoke, and this, being it cannot be dissolved into air; it turns to oil and kindles again. And so it will always by course afford fuel for the light. You have heard the beginnings Reader, now search, labour and make trial for I write to uncle Burghley, now Lord Treasurer:6

My Lord. With as much confi dence as mine own honest and faithful devotion unto your service, and your honourable correspondence unto me, and my poor estate, can breed in a man, do I commend my self unto your Lordship. I wax now somewhat ancient; two and thirty years is a great deal of sand in the hour-glass. My health, I thank God, I fi nd confi rmed; and I do not fear that action shall impair it, because I account my ordinary course of study and meditation to be more painful than most parts of action are. I ever bare a mind, (in some middle place, that I could discharge,) to serve her Majesty; not as a man born under Sol, that loveth honour; nor under Jupiter, that loveth business, (for the contemplative planet carrieth me away wholly,) but as a man born under an excellent Sovereign, that deserveth the dedication of all men’s abilities. Besides, I do not fi nd in my self so much self-love but that the greater part of my thoughts are to deserve well, (if I were able,) of my friends, and namely of your Lordship, who, being the Atlas of this Commonwealth, the honour of my house, and the second founder of my poor estate, I am tied by all duties, both of a good patriot, and of an unworthy kinsman, and of an obliged servant, to employ whatsoever I am to do you service. Again, the meanness of my estate doth somewhat move me: for

6 (a) Spedding: Works; vol. viii. p. 108–109 (b) Resuscitatio published 1657, where William Rawley comments that this letter: “I fi nd not in his Lordship’s register book, of letters; but I am induced by the style and other characters to own them to be his.” Lochithea 139 though I cannot accuse my self that I am either prodigal or slothful, yet my health is not to spend, nor my course to get. Lastly, I confess that I have as vast contemplative ends as I have moderate civil ends: for I have taken all knowledge to be my province; and if I could purge it of two sorts of Rovers7 whereof the one, with frivolous disputations, con- futations, and verbosities, the other, with blind experiments and auricular traditions and impostures, hath committed so many spoils; I hope I should bring in industrious observations, grounded conclusions, and profi table inventions and discoveries, the best state of that province. This, whether it be curiosity, or vain-glory, or nature, or, (if one take it favourably,) philanthropia, is so fi xed in my mind, as it cannot be removed. And I do easily see that place of any reasonable countenance doth bring commandment of more wits than of a man’s own, which is the thing I greatly affect. And for your Lordship, perhaps you shall not fi nd more strength and less encounter in any other. And if your Lordship shall fi nd now, or at any time, that I do seek or affect any place, whereunto any that is nearer unto your Lordship, shall be concurrent, say then, that I am a most dishonest man. And if your Lordship will not carry me on, I will not do as Anaxagoras did, who reduced himself with contemplation unto voluntary poverty. But this I will do, I will sell the inheritance that I have, and purchase some lease of quick revenue, or some offi ce of gain, that shall be executed by deputy, and so give over all care of service, and become some sorry book- maker, or a true pioneer, in that mine of truth, which (he said,) lay so deep. This which I have writ unto your Lordship, is rather thoughts than words, being set down without all art, disguising, or reservation. Wherein I have done honour, both to your Lordship’s wisdom in judging that that will be best believed of your Lordship, which is truest; and to your Lordship’s good nature in retaining nothing from you. And even so, I wish your Lordship all happiness, and to my self means and occasion to be added to my faithful desire to do you service. Fra. Bacon.

Mother, with much severity speaks of her difﬁ culties, yet doth not falter to send whatsoever can be sent with her love. Anthony and I drink up her love but fail regularly upon taking up on her advice. Young men as we still are, I have no fear that she knoweth that like Buckhurst, Herbert,8 and the race of gay cavaliers, while waiting for better days and

7 The original letter in Resuscitatio has the word “Rovers.” According to Alexander Schmidts’ Shakespeare Lexicon and Quotation Dictionary: the word “Rovers” means a fl y-away, a rogue, a scape- grace. Spedding: Works; vol. viii. p. 108–109 substitutes the word “Rovers” with “covers” 8 Extract from A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature: J.W. Cousins, 1910: George Herbert (1593–1633), poet, was educated at Westminster School and Trinity College, Cambridge, where he took his degree in 1616, and was public orator 1619–27. He became the friend of Sir Henry Wotton, Donne, and Bacon, the last of whom is said to have held him in such high esteem as to submit his writings to him before publication. He acquired the favour of James I., who conferred upon him a sinecure worth £120 a year, and having powerful friends, he attached himself for some time to the Court in the hope of preferment. The death of two of his patrons, however, led him to change his views, and coming under the infl uence of Nicholas Ferrar, the quietist of Little Gidding, and of Laud, he took orders in 1626 and, after serving 140 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals brighter fortunes, we relive the wants by help of the Lombards and Jews.9 My good friend Spenser prints his Teares of the Muses and he, the man whom Nature’s self had made to mock her self and truth to imitate, with kindly counter under mimic shade, our pleasant Willy, ah, is dead of late! Robert Greene prints his Farewell to Folly with much ado to Fair Em: “Others will fl oat and over-read line with a frump, and say ’tis scurvy, when they themselves are such scabbed lads that they are like to die of the fazion;10 but if they come to write or publish anything in print, it is either distilled out of ballads, or borrowed of theological poets, which, for their calling and gravity being loth to have any profane pamphlets pass under their hand, get some other Batillus to set his name to their verses. Thus is the ass made proud by this underhand brokery, and he that cannot write true English without the help of clerks of parish churches, will needs make him self the father of interludes. O ’tis a jolly matter when a man hath a familiar style, and can endite a whole year and not be beholding to art! But to bring Scripture to prove anything he say, and kill it dead with the text in a trifl ing subject of love, I tell you is no small piece of cunning. As, for example, two lovers on the stage arguing one another of unkindness, his mistress runs over him with this canonical sentence, “A man’s conscience is a thousand witnesses;”11 and her Knight again excuseth him self with that saying of the apostle, “Love covereth a multitude of sins.” Ah, Em! The subject of my restless thoughts, the anvil whereupon my heart doth be framing thy state to thy desert; full ill this life becomes thy heavenly look, wherein sweet love and virtue sits enthroned. Bad world, where riches is esteemed above them both, in whose base eyes nought else is bountiful!” And so much for Robert Greene when I come to learn of a promising opening: a rich Alderman12 is dead, and hath left his son open to a ward. I speedily write to mother:

for a few years as prebendary of Layton Ecclesia, or Leighton Broomswold, he became in 1630 Rector of Bemerton, Wilts, where he passed the remainder of his life, discharging the duties of a parish priest with conscientious assiduity. His health, however, failed, and he died in his 40th year. His chief works are The Temple, or Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations (1634), The Country Parson (1652), and Jacula Prudentium, a collection of pithy proverbial sayings, the two last in prose. Not published until the year after his death, The Temple had immediate acceptance, 20,000 copies, according to Walton, who was Herbert’s biographer, having been sold in a few years. Among its admirers were Charles I., Cowper, and Coleridge. Herbert wrote some of the most exquisite sacred poetry in the language, although his style, inﬂ uenced by Donne, is at times characterised by artiﬁ ciality and conceits. He was an excellent classical scholar, and an accomplished musician 9 William H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861 10 Disease associated with animals 11 Ignatius Donnelly: The Great Cryptogram, vol. i, 1888 12 Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictionary, 1881: ALDERMAN, n. An ingenious criminal who covers his secret thieving with a pretence of open marauding Lochithea 141

Madam. Alderman Hayward is deceased this night. His eldest son is fallen ward. My Lord Treasurer doth not for the most part hastily dispose of wards. It were worth the obtaining, if it were by in respect of the widow, who is a gentlewoman much recommended. Your Ladyship hath never had any ward. If, my Lady, it were too early for my brother to begone with a suit to my Lord before he had seen his Lordship, and, for me at this time procure my Lord to be my friend with the Queen, it may please your Ladyship to move my Lord, and to promise to be thankful to any other my Lord oweth pleasure unto. There should be no time lost therein. And so I most humbly take my leave. Fra. Bacon.

I receive a humble letter from one of my stepsisters, and add only a fragment to show of her loving nature: “It shall please God so to dispose of your business and healths as I may see you, I shall think myself greatly beholden to you, and the feast greatly honoured by your presence. The day is appointed to be on the Thursday, the 6th of April.” Mother writes to Anthony: “Grace and Health. That you increase in amending I am glad. God continue it every way. When you cease of your prescribed diet, you had need I think to be very wary both of your sudden change of quantity and of season of your feeding, specially supper slate or full; procure rest in convenient time, it helpeth much to digestion. I verily think your brother’s weak stomach to digest hath been much caused and confi rmed by untimely going to bed, and then musing, I know not what, when he should sleep, and then, in consequence, by late rising and long lying in bed, whereby his men are made slothful and himself continually sickly. But my sons haste not to hearken to their mother’s good counsel in time to prevent. Lord our heavenly Father heal and bless you both, as His sons in Christ Jesus.” Of one more letter arrives from mother to Anthony: “I promise you, touching your coach, if it be so to your contentation, it was not wisdom to have it seen and known at the Court. You shall be so much pressed to lend, and your man for gain so ready to agree, that the discommodity thereof will be as much as the commodity. I would your health had been such as you need not to have provided a coach but for a wife; but the will of God be done. You were best to excuse you by me, that I have desired the use of it, because, as I feel it too true, my going is almost spent, and must be fain to be hold with you. It is like Robert Bailey and his sons have been to seek some commodity of you; the father hath been but an ill tenant to the wood, and wayward payer, and hath forfeited his bond, which I intend not to let slip; his son a dissolute young man, and both of them crafty. Like wise young Carpenter may sue to be your man. Be not hasty; you shall fi nd such young men proud and bold, and of no service, but charge and discredit. Be advised. Overshoot not yourself indiscreetly. I tell you, plain fold appearance will quickly cumber one here, and they will all seek to abuse your want of experience by so long absence. Be not hasty, but understand well fi rst your own state. There was never less kindness in tenants commonly than now. Farewell in Christ. Let not your men see my letters. I write to you, and not to them.” To attend the humble invitation of our stepsister, we were in much need of mother’s coach. Anthony arrangeth the entire matter with mother to which her following note 142 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals showeth her discontent prior the event: “I like not your lending your coach yet to any Lord or Lady; if you once begin you shall hardly end; but that in hope you shall shortly use it, I would it were here, to shun all offending. It was not well it was so soon seen at the Court, to make talk, and at last be mocked or misliked. Tell your brother I counsel you to send it no more. What had my Lady Shrewsbury to borrow your coach?” Indeed discontent, yet I had no ready knowledge of the matter; and remain as such. The Easter:13 festivities take my fi rst appearance as pleader in Court. It is at the Courthouse, that I fi rst eye Essex. I shall allow my humble friend, Dr. William Rawley, to add his say: “He studied the service and fortunes (as they call them) of that noble, but unfortunate earl, the Earl of Essex, unto whom he was, in a sort, a private and free counsellor, and gave him safe and honourable advice; till in the end, the earl inclined too much to the violent and precipitate counsel of others his adherents and followers, which was his fate and ruin.” By troth, I be seldom wealthy of coins in my micely eaten pockets when consulting Essex: I am now his private and free counsellor. Should I offer my safe and honourable advice, shalt need be looked on by others and not my self. I thus remain humble to those who require my assistance and allow no fate to ruin should it be in my power to do so: I am commanded by the Queen to act as advisor to Essex. I dedicate my service to my Lord, of which I protest before God, I did not, making election of him as the likeliest mean of mine own advancement, but out of the humour of a man, that ever, from the time I had any use of reason (whether it were reading upon good books, or upon the example of a good Eather, or by nature). I love my country more than is answerable to my fortune, and I hold at this time, my Lord to be the fi tter instrument to do good to the State; and therefore I apply my self to him, in a manner which I think happeneth rarely among men: for I do not only labour carefully and industrially in that he fi t me about, whether it were matter of advice or otherwise, but neglect the Queen’s service, mine own fortune, and in a sort my vocation. I do nothing but advise and ruminate with my self to the best of my understanding, propositions and memorials, of anything that might concern his Lordship’s honour, fortune, or service. I am, either much in appetite, or much in hope. As for appetite; the waters of Parnassus are not like the water of the spawn that gives a stomach; but rather, they quench appetite and desires. And for hope; how can one hope much than can allege no other reason than the reason of an evil debtor, who will persuade his creditor to lend him new sums, and to enter further in with him, to make him satisfy the old? And to her Majesty, no other reason, but the reason of a waterman; I am her fi rst man, of those, who serve in Counsel of Law.14 It pleaseth me to grace my Lord Essex on speeches for the Queen’s Accession Day Tilt: A Conference of Pleasure, In Praise of Knowledge and In Praise of Fortitude, In Praise of Love, In Praise of Truth.

13 The English name of Easter comes from Ostera, a Teutonic goddess whose festival was celebrated in April—See Marshall: News Chronicle Everything Within, 1957 14 William Rawley, in Resuscitatio published 1657, comments that this letter: “I ﬁ nd not in his Lordship’s register book, of letters; but I am induced by the style and other characters to own them to be his.” Also, extracts have been taken from The Apology of Francis Bacon in certain imputations concerning the late Earl of Essex Lochithea 143

Festivities away, a new year with uncle Burghley juggling the wits to favour Coke for Recorder of London and Solicitor-General, as in a conspiracy with the jingling of bells of death that ring by the plague. Upon the seas we see Sir Francis Drake’s juggles in naval adventures of the Virginian Colony and the followers of the Court, in Reading, erect tents and sojourn for the Inns are full for lodging. New books arrive: Kit Marlowe’s writings of Dr. Faustus and Hero and Leander; Thomas Nashe15 releases his poem: “With beauty is but a ﬂ ower, which wrinkles will devour; brightness falls from the air; Queen’s have died young, and fair; dust hath closed Helen’s eye. I am sick, I must die, Lord have mercy on us.” ’Tis heard that Nashe complaineth: not enough plague hospitals are in London to help the sufferings of our people.16 Robert Greene’s17 Groats-Worth of Wit written before his death and published at his dying request. His work raises a tempest, as if the foolish tradition in magic was performed: if a chameleon be burnt upon the top of a house, it will raise a tempest.18 Greene’s inserts are of prominence and illumination. Of but a few, I insert below:19

15 Thomas Nashe (1567–1600?) Elizabethan pamphleteer, poet, satirist 16 See F.P. Wilson: The Plague in Shakespeare’s London, 1963 17 Extract from A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature: J.W. Cousins, 1910: Robert Greene (1560?–1592), poet, dramatist, and pamphleteer, was b. at Norwich, and studied at Cambridge, where he graduated A.B. He was also incorporated at Oxford in 1588. After travelling in Spain and Italy, he returned to Cambridge and took A.M. Settling in London he was one of the wild and brilliant crew who passed their lives in fi tful alternations of literary production and dissipation, and were the creators of the English drama. He has left an account of his career in which he calls himself “the mirror of mischief.” During his short life about town, in the course of which he ran through his wife’s fortune, and deserted her soon after the birth of her fi rst child, he poured forth tales, plays, and poems, which had great popularity. In the tales, or pamphlets as they were then called, he turns to account his wide knowledge of city vices. His plays, including The Scottish History of James IV., and Orlando Furioso, which are now little read, contain some fi ne poetry among a good deal of bombast; but his fame rests, perhaps, chiefl y on the poems scattered through his writings, which are full of grace and tenderness. Greene died from the effects of a surfeit of pickled herrings and Rheinish wine. His extant writings are much less gross than those of many of his contemporaries, and he seems to have given signs of repentance on his deathbed, as is evidenced by his last work, A Groat’s worth of Wit bought with a Million of Repentance. In this curious work occurs his famous reference to Shakespeare as “an upstart crow beautifi ed with our feathers.” Among his other works may be mentioned Euphues’ censure to Philautus, Pandosto, The Triumph of Time (1588), from which Shakespeare borrowed the plot of The Winter’s Tale, A Notable Discovery of Coosnage, Arbasto, King of Denmark, Penelope’s Web, Menaphon (1589), and Coney Catching. His plays, all published posthumously, include Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay, Alphonsus, King of Aragon, and George-a-Greene, the Pinner of Wakefi eld. His tales are written under the infl uence of Lyly, whence he received from Gabriel Harvey the nickname of “Euphues’ Ape.” 18 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century iv. (360) 19 Extracts from Robert Greene’s Groats-Worth of Wit, 1592—University of Oregon: S.T.C. No. 12245. Henry Chettle (1560–1607) the printer, expresses regret in the preparation of Greene’s work that he did not “moderate the heat. I am as sorry as if the original fault had been my fault, because myself have seen his demeanour no less civil than her excellent in the quality 144 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Groats-Worth of Wit By Robert Greene Deceiving world, that with alluring toys, Hast made my life the subject of thy scorn: And scornest now to lend thy fading joys, To length my life, whom friends have left forlorne. How well are they that die ere they be born, And never see thy sleights, which few men shun, Till unaware they helpless are undone. Often have I sung of Love, and of its fi re, But now I fi nd that Poet was advised; Which made full feasts increasers of desire, And proves weak love was with the poor despised. For when the life with food is not suffi ced, What thought of love, what motion of delight; What pleasance can proceed from such a sight? Witness my want, the murderer of my wit; My ravish sense of wanted fury rest; Wants such conceit, as should in Poems sit, See down the sorrow wherein I am left: But therefore have high heavens their gifts bereft: Because so long they lent them me to use, And I so long their bounty did abuse. O that a year were granted me to live, And for that year my former wits restored: What rules of live, what counsel would I give? How should my sin with sorrow be deplored? But I must die of every man abhorred. Time loosely spent will not again be won, My time is loosely spent, and I undone.

Ah Gentlemen, that live to read my broken and confuse line, look not I should delight you with vain fantasies, but gather my follies altogether, and as you would deal with so many parasites, cast them into the ﬁ re: call them Telegones, for now they kill their father, and every loved line in them written, is a deep piercing wound to my heart; every idle hour spent by any in reading them, brings a million of sorrows to my soul. O that the tears of a miserable man might wash their memory out with my death; and that those works with

he professes. Besides, divers of worship have reported his uprightness of dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writing, that approves his art.”—For more on Robert Greene’s works, see Stanley Wells: A Dictorionary of Shakespeare, 1998 Lochithea 145 me together might be interred. But sit they cannot, let this my last work witness against them with me, how I detest them. Black is the remembrance of my black works, blacker than night, blacker than death, blacker than hell. Learn wit by my repentance and let these few rules following be regarded in your lives. 1. First in all your actions set God before your eyes; for the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom: let his word be a lantern to your feet, and a light unto your paths, then shall you stand as fi rm rocks, and not be mocked. 2. Beware of looking back, for God will not be mocked; of him that hath received much, much shall be demanded. 3. If thou be single, and cannot abstain, turn thy eyes from vanity; for there is a kind of women bearing the faces of Angels, but the hearts of Devils, able to entrap the elect if it were possible. 4. If thou be married, forsake not the wife of thy youth to follow strange fl esh; for whoremongers and adulterers the Lord will judge. The door of a harlot leadeth down to death, and in her lips there dwells destruction; her face is decked with odours, but she bringeth a man to a morsel of bread and nakedness: of which myself am instance. 5. If thou be left rich, remember those that want, and so deal, that by thy wilfulness thyself want not: Let not taverners and victualers be thy executors; for they will bring thee to a dishonourable grave. 6. Oppress no man, for the cry of the wronged ascendeth to the ears of the Lord; neither delight to increase by usury, least thou loose thy habitation in the everlasting Tabernacle. 7. Beware of building thy house to thy neighbours’ hurt; for the stones will cry to the timber, we were laid together in blood: and those that so erect houses, calling them by their names, shall lie in the grave like sheep, and death shall gnaw upon their souls. 8. If thou be poor, be also patient, and strive not to grow rich by indirect means; for goods so gotten shall vanish away like smoke. 9. If thou be a father, master, or teacher, join good example with good council; else little avail precepts, where life is different. 10. If thou be a son or servant, despise not reproof; for though correction be bitter at the fi rst, it bringeth pleasure in the end. Had I regarded the fi rst of these rules, or been obedient to the last: I had not now, at my last end, been left thus desolate. But now, though to myself I give Consilium post facta; yet to others they may serve for times precepts. And therefore I will send warning to my old consorts, which have lived as loosely as myself, albeit weakness will scarce suffer me to write, yet to my fellow scholars about this city, will I direct these few insuing lines.

To those Gentlemen his Quondam acquaintance, that spend their wits in making Plays, R.G. wisheth a better exercise, and wisdom to prevent his extremities. 146 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

If woeful experience may move you to beware, or unheard of wretchedness intreat you to take heed; I doubt not by you will look back with sorrow on your time past, and endeavour with repentance to spend that which is to come. Wonder not, thou famous gracer of Tragedians, that Greene, who hath said with thee. There is no God, should now give glory unto his greatness: for penetrating is his power, his hand lies heavy upon me, he hath spoken unto me with a voice of thunder, and I have felt he is a God that can punish enemies. Why should thy excellent wit, his gift, be so blinded, that thou shouldn’t give no glory to the giver? Is it pestilent Machiavellian policy that thou has studied? O peevish folly! What are his rules but mere confused mockeries, able to extirpate in small time the generation of mankind. For if Sic volo, sic iubeo, hold in those that are able to command: and if it be lawful Fas & nefas to do anything that is benefi cial, only tyrants should possess the earth, and they striving to exceed in tyranny, should each to other be a slaughter man; till the mightiest outliving all, one stroke were left for Death, that in one age man’s life should end. The brother of this diabolical Atheism is dead, and in his life had never the felicity he aimed at: but as he began in craft, lived in fear, and ended in despair. Quàm inscrutabilia sunt Dei iudicia? This murderer of many brethren, had his conscience seared like Cain: this betrayer of him that gave his life for him, inherited the portion of Judas: this Apostata perished as ill as Julian: and wilt thou my friend be his Disciple? Look unto me, by him persuaded to that liberty, and thou shalt fi nd it an infernal bondage. I know the least of my demerits merit this miserable death, but wilful striving against known truth, exceedeth all the terrors of my soul. Defer not till this last point of extremity; for little knowest thou how in the end thou shalt be visited. With thee I join young Juenall, that biting satirist, that lastly with me together writ a comedy. Sweet boy, might I advise thee, be advised, and get not many enemies by bitter words: inveigh against vain men, for thou canst do it, no man better, no man so well: thou hast a livery to reprove all, and none more; for one being spoken to, all are offended, none being blamed no man is injured. Stop shallow water still running, it will rage, or tread on a worm and it will turn: then blame not scholars vexed with sharp line, if they reprove thy too much liberty of reproof. And thou no less deserving than the other two, in some things rare, in nothing inferior; driven to extreme shifts, a little have I to say to them and were it not an idolatrous oath, I would swear by sweet Sr. George, thou art unworthy better hap, sit thou dependest on so mean a stay. Base minded men all three of you, if by my misery ye be not warned: for unto none of you sought those burrs to cleave: those puppets that speak from our mouths, those antics garnished in our colours. Is it not strange that I, to whom they all have been beholding: is it not like that you, to whom they all have been beholding, shall be both at once of them forsaken? Yes, trust them not: for there is an upstart Crow, beautifi ed with our feathers, that with his Tiger’s heart wrapped in a Player’s Hyde, supposes he is a well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you: and being an absolute Johannes factotum,20 is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country. O that I might entreat your rare wits to be employed in more profi table courses: and let

20 A doer of all kinds of work for another—See Basil Brown’s Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) for an elaborate account of how Friar Roger Bacon “trusted his Johannes factotum with his most precious and secret works and sent the poor obscure youth with his treasured manuscripts to Pope Clement IV in 1267.” Lochithea 147 those Apes imitate your past excellence, and never more acquaint them with your admired inventions. I know the best husband of you all will never prove an usurer, and the kindest of them all will never seek you a kind nurse: yet whilst you may, seek you better Master; for it is pity men of such rare wits, should be subject to the pleasure of such rude grooms.

* And so much for Robert Greene. This is a most probable year of my good servant and secretary’s birth, Sir Thomas Meautys, K.B., of whom I shall have the privilege, in my elder years, to know this gent of intimate friendship and of his loyal service to a friend should be.21 In the meantime, I may do well to dwell into writing a pamphlet entitled: A Conference of Pleasure,22 defending my uncle Burghley, as Anthony cometh from beyond the seas; being a gentleman whose ability the world takes knowledge of for matters of State, specially foreign. I do likewise knit his service to be at Essex’ disposing.23 I commend Essex as Xenophon commended the State of his country; which was this: that having chosen the worst form of government of all others, they governed the best in that kind. Hoc, pace, et venia tuâ, according to my charter. Anthony agrees to acquaint Essex. I am desirous for mine own better satisfaction of which had me indebted to Essex as I returneth to Parliament for Middlesex, a wealthy shire in England, and rise immensely at Brentford to speak to free holders who knoweth my name. Mother hasteth not in writing to Anthony: “I am glad and thank God of your amendment; but my man said he heard you rose at three of the clock. I thought that was not well, so suddenly from bedding much, to rise so early newly out of your diet. Extremities be hurtful to whole, more to the sickly. If you be not wise and discreet for your diet and seasoning of your doings, you will be weakish I fear a good while. Be wise and Godly too, and discern what is good and what not for your health. Avoid extremities. What a great folly were it in you to take cold to hinder your amendment, being not compelled, but upon voluntary indiscretion, seeing the cost of physic is much, your pain long, and your amendment slow, and your duty not yet done. Give none occasion by negligence. You go, as is commonly said, of your own errands. Your man for money, and somebody else for their vain credit, will work you but displeasure and loss, and they have thanks. Learn to be wise in things of this sort, and do nothing rashly. In haste. Late this Sabbath. Farewell. Take care of your health and please God.”

Francis Bacon Essay XXX: Of Regiment of Health. There is a wisdom in this beyond the rules of physic: a man’s own observation, what he ﬁ nds good of, and what he ﬁ nds hurt of, is the best physic to preserve health. But it is a safer conclusion to say, This agreeth not well with me, therefore I will not continue it; than

21 A. Chambers Bunten: Sir Thomas Meautys, Secretary to Lord Bacon, and his friends, 1918 22 The pamphlet was published in 1870. According to Dixon, it was never referred to in his letters to Burghley, in 1592, when in urgent need for a promotion 23 Extract from The Apology of Francis Bacon 148 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals this, I fi nd no offence of this, therefore I may use it. For strength of nature in youth passeth over many excesses, which are owing a man till his age. Discern of the coming on of years, and think not to do the same things still; for age will not be defi ed. Beware of sudden change in any great point of diet, and if necessity inforce it, fi t the rest to it. For it is a secret both in nature and state, that it is safer to change many things than one. Examine thy customs of diet, sleep, exercise, apparel, and the like; and try, in any thing thou shalt judge hurtful, to discontinue it by little and little; but so, as if thou dost fi nd any inconvenience by the change, thou come back to it again: for it is hard to distinguish that which is generally held good and wholesome, from that which is good particularly, and fi t for thine own body. To be free-minded and cheerfully disposed at hours of meat and of sleep and of exercise, is one of the best precepts of long lasting. As for the passions and studies of the mind; avoid envy; anxious fears; anger fretting inwards; subtle and knotty inquisi- tions; joys and exhilarations in excess; sadness not communicated. Entertain hopes; mirth rather than joy; variety of delights, rather than surfeit of them; wonder and admiration, and therefore novelties; studies that fi ll the mind with splendid and illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and contemplations of nature. If you fl y physic in health altogether, it will be too strange for your body when you shall need it. If you make it too familiar, it will work no extraordinary effect when sickness cometh. I commend rather some diet for certain seasons, than frequent use of physic, except it be grown into a custom. For those diets alter the body more, and trouble it less. Despise no new accident in your body, but ask opinion of it. In sickness, respect health principally; and in health, action. For those that put their bodies to endure in health, may in most sicknesses, which are not very sharp, be cured only with diet and tendering. Celsus24 could never have spoken it as a physician, had he not been a wise man withal, when he giveth it for one of the great precepts of health and lasting, that a man do vary and interchange contraries, but with an inclination to the more benign extreme: use fasting and full eating, but rather full eating; watching and sleep, bur rather sleep; sitting and exercise, but rather exercise; and the like. So shall nature be cherished, and yet taught masteries. Physicians are some of them so pleasing and conformable to the humour of the patient, as they press not the true cure of the disease; and some other are so regular in proceeding according to art for the disease, as they respect not suffi ciently the condition of the patient. Take one of a middle temper; or if it may not be found in one man, combine two of either sort; and forget not to call as well the best acquainted with your body, as the best reputed of for his faculty.

24 Celsus, Aulus Cornelius fl ourished 1st century AD, Rome; one of the greatest Roman medical writers, author of an encyclopaedia dealing with agriculture, military art, rhetoric, philosophy, law, and medicine, of which only the medical portion has survived. De medicina, now considered one of the fi nest medical classics, was largely ignored by contemporaries. It was discovered by Pope Nicholas V (1397–1455) and was among the fi rst medical works to be published (1478) after the introduction of the printing press. Most remarkable in Celsus’ work is the apparently advanced state of medical practice at the time. He recommended cleanliness and urged that wounds be washed and treated with substances now considered to be somewhat antiseptic, such as vinegar and thyme oil. He described plastic surgery of the face, using skin from other parts of the body. He established the four cardinal signs of infl ammation: heat, pain, redness, and swelling—Encyclopædia Britannica Lochithea 149

Exercises, again, it is obvious, play the principal part in instruction. But few have observed that there ought to be not only a wise choice and course of exercises, but a wise intermission of them also; for it is well observed by Cicero, “that men in their exercises for the most part exercise their faults as well as their faculties,” so that an ill habit is sometimes acquired along with the good. It is safer therefore to intermit exercises from time to time and return to them after a while, than continually to pursue and press them. But enough of this. Certainly these are matters not very grand or imposing at fi rst sight, yet of singular fruit and effi cacy. For as the good or ill thriving of plants depends chiefl y upon the good or ill treatment they received when they were young and tender; and as the immense increase of the Roman Empire is by some deservedly attributed to the virtue and wisdom of the fi rst six Kings, who were in truth as the tutors and guardians of it in its infancy; so surely the culture and ordering of youthful or tender years has a power which, though latent and not perceptible to everybody, neither length of time nor assiduity and earnestness of labour in mature age can afterwards countervail. It will not be amiss to observe also, that even mean faculties, when they fall into great men or great matters, sometimes work great and important effects. Of this I will adduce a memorable example; the rather, because the Jesuits appear not to despise this kind of discipline; therein judging (as I think) well. It is a thing indeed, if practised professionally, of low repute; but if it be made a part of discipline, it is of excellent use. I mean stage-playing: an art which strengthens the memory, regulates the tone and effect of the voice and pronunciation, teaches a decent carriage of the countenance and gesture, gives not a little assurance, and accustoms young men to bear being looked at the example which I shall give, taken from Tacitus, is that of one Vibulenus, formerly an actor, then a soldier in the Pannoanian legions. This man had at the death of Augustus raised a mutiny, whereupon Blœsus, the lieutenant, committed some of the mutineers to prison. The soldiers however broke in and let them out; whereupon Vibulenus getting up to speak, began thus; “These poor innocent wretches you have restored to light and life; but who shall restore life to my brother, or my brother to me? Whom, being sent hither in message from the legions of Germany, to treat of the common cause, this man has murdered last night by some of his swordsmen, whom he keeps and arms for the execution of soldiers. Answer, Blœsus, where have you thrown his body?”

Her Majesty arrives at her journey through Oxford, where she stays certain days, and is delighted with most elegant orations, stage-plays, and learned disputations, and daintily feasted by the Lord Buckhurst, Chancellor of the University. At her departure, she bades them farewell with a Latin oration wherein she professeth that she far preferred the most known love of the University men before all other their delights, though most pleasing unto her. For which, love she rendereth them very great thanks, made a prayer, and gave them council. A great drought follows over England; that not only the ﬁ elds, but fountains dry up, and very many beasts die everywhere of thirst. Old Father Thames swelleth twice in a naturally day above 60 miles from the mouth, and is increased with many clear waters from all parts, fails so of water, to the great admiration of all men, that a man might ride over it near London Bridge, so shallow is the channel. Whether this were through that drought, or the impetuous violence of a north-east wind, which blew furiously the 150 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals space of two days together, and as well drove the fresh waters, as drove back the sea-tide, it cannot be said; especially, the moon being now at full and descending south-ward, and the Equinox being at hand (as William Camden protests) at which times the sea-faring men hath observed that the tides rise highest in the Thames. There are some which argue out of the secrets of deep philosophy that this happens by hidden force of nature, to wit, like as the quartan ague commeth at an hour, as the gout answereth in a time, as a purgation, if nothing have hindered it, keepeth a set day, as the birth is ready at her month; so have the waters their distance of time, in which they ebb and ﬂ ow. But some distances, because they are lesser, are therefore easy to be observed; and some are greater, and no less certain. And what marvel, when we see that the order of things, and nature proceedeth by appointed seasons? The winter hath never strayed; the summer hath grown hot in his season; autumn, and the spring is changed according to their custom. As well the Solstice as the Equinox have kept their just days. There are also under the earth certain rights and properties of nature, to us less known, but yet no less certain. Believe it to be underneath, whatsoever thou seest above. With all other extravagances of extreme nature, my writ to Thomas Phillips on an experiment, busiest my wit:

Sir. I congratulate your return, hearing that all is passed on your word. Your mercury is returned, whose return alarmed us upon some great matter, which I fear he will not satisfy. News of his coming came before his own letter, and to other than to his proper street, which maketh me desirous to satisfy or to solve. My Lord hath required him to repair to me, which, upon his Lordship’s and my own letter received, I doubt not but he will with all speed perform, when I pray you to meet him if you may, that, laying our head together, we may maintain his credit, satisfy my Lord’s expectations, and procure some good fruit. I pray thee rather spare not your travail, because I think the Queen is already party to the advertisement of his coming over, and, in some, suspect, which you may not disclose to him. So I wish you as my self, your ever assured. Fra. Bacon.

Of a State matter, I compose Certain Observations made upon a Libel being a reply to a libel on the Queen derived from a pamphlet that hath been published on the continent in Latin and English, Responsio ad Edictum Regina Angliæ, by a Father Parsons. Should it be one of my famous State Papers, would be for other tongues to wag. Here it remaineth my Reader of wit, in thy hands: Lochithea 151

Certain Observations, Upon A Libel Published This Present Year, 1592 Entitled, A Declaration Of The True Causes Of The Great Troubles, Presupposed To Be Intended, Against The Realm, Of England25 It were just and honourable for Princes being in wars together, that howsoever they prosecute their quarrels and debates by arms and acts of hostility, yea through the wars be such as they pretend the utter ruin and overthrow of the forces and states one of another, yet they so limit their passions26 as they preserve two things sacred and inviolable; that is, the life and good name, each of other. For the wars are no massacres and confusions; but they are the highest trials of right; when Princes and States that acknowledge no superior upon earth shall put themselves upon the justice of God, for the deciding of their controversies by such success as it shall please him to give on either side. And as in the process of particular pleas between private men all things ought to be ordered by the rules of Civil Laws; so in the proceedings of the war nothing ought to be done against the law of nations or the law of honour; which laws have ever pronounced these two sorts of men,—the one conspirators against the persons of Princes, the other libellers against their good fame,—to be such enemies of common society as are not to be cherished, no not by enemies. For in the examples of times which were less corrupted we ﬁ nd that when in the greatest heats and extremities of wars there have been made offers of murderous and traitorous attempts against the person of a Prince to the enemy, they have been not only rejected, but also revealed; and in like manner when dishonourable mention hath been made of a Prince before an enemy Prince by some that have thought therein to please his honour, he hath showed himself contrariwise utterly distasted therewith, and been ready to contest for the honour of an enemy. According to which noble and magnanimous kind of proceeding, it will be found that in the whole course of her Majesty’s proceeding with the King of Spain, since the amity interrupted, there was never any project by her Majesty or any of her ministers either moved or assented unto, for the taking away of the life of the said King; either hath there been any declaration or writing of Estate, no nor book allowed, wherein his honour hath been touched or taxed, otherwise than for his ambition; a point which is necessarily interlaced with her Majesty’s own justiﬁ cation. So that no man needeth to doubt but that those wars are grounded, upon her Majesty’s part, upon just and honourable causes, which have so just an honourable a prosecution; considering it is a much harder matter when a Prince is entered into wards, than to hold respect and not to be transported with passion, than to make moderate and just resolutions in the beginning. But now if a man look on the other part, it will appear that (rather, as it is to be thought, by the solicitation of traitorous subjects, which is the only poison and corruption of all

25 (a) Spedding: Works, vol. i. p. 146–208 (b) Resuscitatio published in 1657, p. 103–150 26 Spedding: “Passions” 152 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals honourable war between foreigners, or by the presumption of his agents and ministers, than by the proper inclination of that King) there hath been, if not plotted and practised yet at the least comforted, conspiracies against her Majesty’s sacred person; which nevertheless God’s goodness hath used and turned, to show by such miraculous discoveries into how near and precious care and custody it hath pleased him to receive her Majesty’s life and preservation. But in the other point, it is strange what a number of libellous and defamatory books and writings, and in what variety, and with what art and cunning handled, have been allowed to pass through the world in all languages against her Majesty and her government; sometimes pretending the gravity and authority of church stories; to move belief; sometimes formed into remonstrances and advertisements of Estate, to move regard; sometimes presented as it were in tragedies of the persecutions of Catholics, to move pity; sometimes contrived into pleasant pasquils and satires, to move sport; so as there is no shape whereunto these fellows have not transformed themselves, nor no humour nor affection in the mind of man to which they have not applied themselves, thereby to insinuate their untruths and abuses of the world. And indeed let a man look into them, and he shall fi nd them the only triumphant lies that ever were confuted by contrariety in themselves, confuted by the witness of infi nite persons that live yet and have had particular knowledge of the matters; but yet avouched with such asseveration, as if either they were fallen into that strange disease of the mind which a wise writer describeth in these words, fi ngunt simul creduntque; or as if they had received it as a principal precept and ordinance of their seminaries, audacter calumnaire, semper aliquid hæret; or as if they which in old time were wont to help themselves with lying miracles were now fain to help themselves with miraculous lies. But when the cause of this is entered into,—namely, that there passeth ever out of this Realm a number of eager and unquiet scholars, whom their own turbulent and humorous nature presseth out to seek their adventures abroad; and that there on the other side they are nourished rather in listening after news and intelligences and in whisperings than in any commendable learning; and after a time, when either their necessitous Estate or their ambitious appetites importune them, they fall to devising how to do some acceptable service to that side which maintaineth them; so that ever as their credit waxeth cold with foreign Princes, or that their pensions are ill paid, or some preferment is in sight at which they level, straightways out cometh a libel, pretending thereby to keep in life the party of evil subjects within the Realm (wherein they are as wise as he that thinketh to kindle a fi re by blowing in the dead ashes)—when, I say, a man looketh into the cause and ground of this plentiful yield of libels, he will cease to marvel; considering the concurrence which is as well in the nature of the seed as in the travail of tilling and dressing, yea and in the fi tness of the season for the bringing up of those infectious weeds. But to verify the saying of our Saviour, non est discipulus super magistrum, as they have sought to deprave her Majesty’s government in herself, so have they not forgotten to do the same in her principal servants and counsellors; thinking belike that as the immediate invectives against her Majesty do best satisfy the malice of the foreigner, so the slander and calum- niation of her principal counsellors agreeth best with the humours of some malcontents Lochithea 153 within the Realm; imagining also that it was like such books should be more read here and freelier dispersed, and also should be less odious to those foreigners which were not merely partial and passionate; who have for the most part in detestation the traitorous libellings of subjects directly against their natural Prince. Amongst the rest in this kind, there hath been published this present year of 1592 a libel that giveth place to none of the rest in malice and untruths, though inferior to most of them in penning and style; the author having chosen the vein of a Lucianist, and yet being a counterfeit even in that kind. This libel is entitled, A Declaration of the True Causes of the Great Troubles presupposed to be intended against the Realm of England, and hath a semblance as if it were only bent against the doings of her Majesty’s ancient and worthy counsellor the Lord Burghley, whose carefulness and pains her Majesty hath used in her counsels and actions of this Realm for these four and thirty years’ space in all dangerous times and amidst many and mighty practices, and with such success as our enemies are put still to their papershot of such libels as these; the memory whereof will remain in this land when all these libels shall be extinct and forgotten, according to the Scripture, Memoria justi cum laudibus, at impisorum nomen putrescet. But it is more than evident by the parts of the same book that the author’s malice was to her Majesty and her government; as may specially appear in this, that he chargeth not his Lordship with any particular actions of his private life (such power had truth), whereas the libels made against other counsellors have principally insisted upon that part, but hath only wrested and detorted such actions of State as in times of his service have been managed, and depraving them hath ascribed and imputed to him the effects that have followed indeed to the good of the Realm and the honour of her Majesty, though sometimes to the provoking of the malice, but abridging of the power and means, of desperate and incorrigible subjects. All which slanders as his Lordship might justly despise, both for their manifest untruths and for the baseness of obscurity of the author, so nevertheless, according to the moderation which his Lordship useth in all things, never claiming the privilege of his authority when it is question of satisfying the world, he hath been content that they be not passed over altogether in silence; whereupon I have, in particular duty to his Lordship, amongst others that do honour and love his Lordship and that have diligently observed his actions, and in seal of truth, collected upon the reading of the said libel certain observations; not in form of a just answer, lest I should fall into the error whereof Salomon speaketh thus; Answer not a fool in his own kind, lest thou also be like him; but only to discover the malice and to reprove and convict the untruths thereof.27

27 Spedding’s edition adds the following: “Not doubting but if his Lordship were disposed to enter himself with the libeller into contestation (which he disdaineth to do) he would with a multitude of good witnesses which have been partakers with him in his public service, yea with a Princely asseveration of her Majesty (to whom his ﬁ delity is best known), confound the libeller and make him justly odious to all good men; yea even to a number of persons that for respect of religion do not allow of his actions, and yet in some moderation do not condemn him for his life and manners, nor for his dexterity in all civil causes both of State and Justice.” 154 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

The Points That I Have Observed Upon The Reading Of This Libel Are These Following: I. Of the scope or drift of the libeller. II. Of the present estate of this realm of England, whether it may be truly avouched to be prosperous or afﬂ icted. III. Of the proceedings against the pretended Catholics, whether they have been violent or moderate and necessary. IV. Of the disturbances of the quiet of Christendom, and to what causes it may be justly imputed. V. Of the cunning of the libeller, in palliation of his malicious invective against her Majesty and the state with pretence of taxing only the actions of the Lord Burghley. VI. Certain true general notes upon the actions of the Lord Burghley. VII. Of divers particular untruths and abuses dispersed through the libel. VIII. Of the height of impudency that these men are grown unto in publishing an avouching untruths; with particular recital of some of them for an assay.

I. Of The Scope Or Drift Of The Libeller. It is good advice in dealing with cautelous and malicious persons (whose speech is ever at distance with their meanings), non quid dixerint sed quid spectârint videndum; a man is not to regard what they afﬁ rm or what they hold, but what they would convey under their pretended discourse,28 and what turn they would serve. It soundeth strange in the ears of an Englishman, that the miseries of the present state of England exceed them of former times, whatsoever. One would straightway think with himself; doth this man believe what he saith? Or, not believing it, doth he think it possible to make us believe it? Surely, in my conceit, neither of both. But his end no doubt was, to round the Pope and the King of Spain in the ear by seeming to tell a tale to the people of England. For such books are ever wont to be translated into divers languages; and no doubt the man was not so simple as to think he could persuade the people of England the contrary of that they taste and feel; but he thought he might better abuse the states abroad if he directed his speech to them who could best convict him and disprove him if he said untrue; so that as Livy saith in the like case, Ætolos magis coram quibus verba facerent quam ad quos pensi habere; that the Ætolians, in their talk29 did more respect those which did overhear them than those to whom they directed their speech; so in this matter this fellow cared not to be counted a liar by all England,30 upon price of deceiving of Spain and Italy: For it must be understood that it hath been the general practice of this kind of men many years,—of the one side, to abuse the foreign Estates by making them believe that all is out of joint and ruinous here

28 Resuscitatio: “Discovery” 29 Resuscitatio: “in their Tale” 30 Resuscitatio: “by all English” Lochithea 155 in England, and that there is a great part ready to join with the invader; and on the other side, to make evil subjects of England believe of great preparations abroad and in great readiness to be put in act; and so to deceive on both sides. And this, I take to be, his principal drift. So again it is an extravagant and incredible conceit to imagine that all the conclusions and actions of Estate which have passed during her Majesty’s reign should be ascribed to one counsellor alone, and to such an one as was never noted for an imperious or overruling man. And to say that though he carried them not by violence, yet he compassed them by device,—there is no man of judgment that looketh into the nature of these times, but will easily descry that the wits of these days are too much refi ned, and practice too much in use, for any man to walk invisible, or to make all the world his instruments. And therefore, no not in this point assuredly, the libeller spake as he thought. But this he foresaw, that the imputation of cunning doth breed suspicion, and the imputation of greatness and sway doth breed envy. And therefore fi nding where he was most wrung and by whose policy and experience their plots were most crossed, the mark he shot at was to see whether he could heave at is Lordship’s authority by making him suspected to the Queen or generally odious to the Realm; knowing well enough for the one point, that there are not only jealousies, but certain revolutions in Princes’ minds, so that it is a rare virtue in the rarest Princes to continue constant to the end in their favours and employments; and knowing for the other point, that envy ever accompanieth greatness though never so well deserved, and that his Lordship hath always marched a round and real course in service, and as he hath not moved envy by pomp and ostentation, so hath he never extinguished it by any popular or insinuative carriage of himself. And this no doubt as his second drift. A third drift was, to assay if he could supplant and weaken (by this violent kind of libelling, and turning the whole imputation upon his Lordship) his resolution and courage, and to make him proceed more cautely and not so thoroughly and strongly against them; knowing his Lordship to be a politic man, and one that hath a great stake to lose. Lastly, lest while I discover the cunning and art of this fellow, I should make him wiser than he was, I think a great part of the cause of this book was passion. Diffi cile est tacere cum doleas. The humours of these men being of themselves eager and fi erce, have by the abort and blasting of their hopes been kindled and enraged. And surely this book is of all that sort that have been written of the meanest workmanship; being fraughted with sundry base scoffs and cold amplifi cations and other characters of despite, but void of all judgment or ornament. 156 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

II. Of The Present State Of This Realm Of England; Whether It May Be Truly Avouched To Be Prosperous Or Affl icted. The benefi ts of Almighty God upon this land, since the time that in his singular providence He led as it were by the hand and placed in the Kingdom his servant our Queen Elizabeth, are such as, not in boasting or in confi dence of ourselves but in praise of his blessed name, are worthy to be both considered and confessed, yea and registered in perpetual memory. Notwithstanding, I mean not after the manner of a panegyric to extol the present time. It shall suffi ce only that those men that through the gall and bitterness of their own heart have lost their taste and judgment, and would deprive God of his glory and us of our senses in affi rming our condition to be miserable and full of tokens of the wrath and indignation of God, be reproved. If then it be true that nemo est miser aut felix nisi comparatus; whether we shall (keeping ourselves within the compass of our own island) look into the memories of times past, or at this present time take a view of other States abroad in Europe, we shall fi nd that we need not give place to the happiness either of ancestors or neighbours. For if a man weigh well all the parts of state,—religion, laws, administration of justice, policy of government, manners, civility, learning and liberal sciences, industry and manual arts, arms and provisions of wars for sea and land, treasure, traffi c, improvement of the soil, population, honour and reputation,—it will appear that, taking one part with another, the state of this nation was never more fl ourishing. It is easy to call to remembrance out of histories the Kings of England which have in more ancient time enjoyed greatest happiness; besides her Majesty’s father and grandfather, that reigned in rare felicity, as is fresh in memory. They have been King Henry I., King Henry II., King Henry III., King Edward I., King Edward III., King Henry V. All which have been Princes of royal virtue, great felicity, and famous memory. But it may be truly affi rmed, without derogation to any of these worthy Princes, that (whatsoever we fi nd in libels) there is not to be found in the English chronicles a King that hath, in all respects laid together, reigned with such felicity as her Majesty hath done. For as for the fi rst three Henries, the fi rst came in too soon after a conquest, the second too soon after an usurpation, and the third too soon after a league or barons’ war, to reign with security and contentation. King Henry I., also had unnatural wars with his brother Robert, wherein much nobility was consumed; he had therewithal tedious wars in Wales, and was not without some other seditions and troubles, as namely the great contestation of his prelates. King Henry II., his happiness was much deformed by the revolt of his son Henry, after he had associated him, and of his other sons. King Henry III., besides the continual wars in Wales, was after forty-four years’ reign, unquieted with intricate commotions of his barons; as may appear by the mad parliament held at Oxenford, and the acts thereupon ensuing. Lochithea 157

His son King Edward I., had a more fl ourishing time than any of the other; came to the Kingdom at prime years, and with great reputation upon his voyage into the Holy Land, and was loved and obeyed, pollicied his Realm with excellent laws, contrived his wars with great judgment; fi rst having reclaimed Wales to a settled allegiance, and being upon the point of uniting Scotland. But yet I suppose it was more honour for her Majesty to have so important a piece of Scotland in her hand and the same with such justice to render up, than it was for that worthy King to have advanced in such forwardness the conquest of that nation. And for King Edward III., his reign was visited with much sickness and mortality; so as they reckoned in his days three several mortalities; one in the 22nd year, another in the 35th year, and the last in the 43rd year of his reign; and being otherwise victorious and in prosperity, was by that only cross more affl icted than he was by the other prosperities comforted. Besides he entered hardly; and again, according to the verse cedebant ultima primis, his latter times were not so prosperous. And for King Henry V., as his success was wonderful, so he wanted temporis fi duciam, continuance; being extinguished after ten years’ reign in the prime of his fortunes. Now for her Majesty, we will fi rst speak of the blessing of continuance; as that which wanted in the happiest of these Kings, and is not only a great favour of God unto the Prince, but also a singular benefi t unto the people. For that sentence of the Scripture, misera natio cum multi sunt principes ejus, is interpreted not only to extend to divisions and distractions in government, but also to frequent changes in succession; considering that the change of a Prince ever bringeth in many changes which are harsh and unpleasant to a great part of the subjects. It appeareth then, that of the line of fi ve hundred and fourscore years and more, containing the number of twenty-two Kings, God hath already prolonged her Majesty’s reign to exceed sixteen of the said two-and-twenty; and by the end of this present year, which God prosper, she shall attain to be equal with two more; during which time there have deceased four Emperors, as many French Kings, twice so many Bishops of Rome; yea, every state in Christendom, except Spain, have received sundry successions; and for the King of Spain, he is waxed so infi rm and thereby so retired, as the report of his death serveth for every year’s news; whereas her Majesty (thanks be to God) being nothing decayed in vigour of health and strength, was never more able to supply and sustain the weight of her affairs, and is, as far as standeth with the dignity of her Majesty royal, continually to be seen, to the great comfort and hearts-ease of her people. Secondly, we will mention the blessing of health; I mean generally of the people; which was wanting in the reign of another of these Kings, which else deserved to have the second place in happiness; which is one of the great favours of God towards any nation. 158 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

For as there be three scourges of God,—war, famine, and pestilence,—so are there three benedictions,—peace, plenty, and health. Whereas therefore this Realm hath been often visited in times past with sundry kinds of mortalities,—as pestilences, sweats, and other contagious diseases,—it is so, that in her Majesty’s times, being of the continuance aforesaid, there was only towards the beginning of her reign some sickness between June and February in the city; but not dispersed into any other part of the realms, as was noted; which we call yet the great plague; because that though it was nothing so grievous nor so sweeping as it had been sundry times heretofore, yet it was great in respect of the health which hath followed sithence; which hath been such (especially of late years) as we began to dispute and move questions of the causes whereunto it should be ascribed, until such time as it please God to teach us that we ought to ascribe it only to his mercy, by touching us a little this present year; but with a very gentle hand, and such as it hath pleased him since to remove. But certain it is, for so many years together, notwithstanding the great pestering of people in houses, the great multitude of strangers, and the sundry voyages by sea (all which have been noted to be causes of pestilence), the health universal for the people was never so good. The third blessing is that which all the politic and fortunate Kings before recited have wanted; that is, peace. For there was never foreigner since her Majesty’s reign by invasion or incursion of moment that took any footing within the Realm of England. One rebellion there hath been only, but such a one as was repressed within the space of seven weeks, and did not waste the Realm so much as by the destruction or depopulation of one poor town. And for wars abroad, taking in those of Leith, those of Newhaven, the second expedition into Scotland, the wars with Spain, which I reckon from the year ’86 or ’87 (before which time neither had the King of Spain withdrawn his Ambassadors here residing, neither had her Majesty received into her protection the United Provinces of the Low Countries), and the aids of France, they have not occupied in time a third part of her Majesty’s reign, nor consumed past two of any noble house (whereof France took one and Flanders another), and very few besides for quality or appearance. They have scant mowed down the overcharge of the people, which have been bred within the Realm. It is therefore true that the Kings aforesaid and other her Majesty’s progenitors have been victorious in their wars, and have made many famous and memorable voyages and expeditions into sundry parts; and that her Majesty contrariwise from the beginning put on a ﬁ rm resolution to content herself with those limits of her dominions which she received, and to entertain peace with her neighbour Princes; which resolution she hath ever since (notwithstanding she hath had rare opportunities, just claims and pretences, and great and might means) sought to continue. Lochithea 159

But if this be objected to be the less honourable fortune, I answer that even amongst the heathen (who held not the expense of blood so precious as Christians ought to do), the peaceable government of Augustus Cæsar was ever as highly esteemed as the victories of Julius his uncle; and that the name of pater patriæ was ever as honourable as that of propaga- tor imperii. And this I add further, that during this inward peace of so many years, in the actions of war before mentioned which her Majesty either in her own defence or in just and honourable aids hath undertaken, the service hath been such as hath carried no note of a people whose militia were degenerated through long peace, but hath every way answered the ancient reputation of the English arms. The fourth blessing is Plenty and Abundance. And fi rst for grain and all victuals, there cannot be more evident proof of the plenty than this; that whereas England was wont to be fed by other countries from the east, it suffi ceth now to feed other countries; and yet there was never the like multitude of people to eat it within the Realm. Another evident proof thereof may be, that the good yields of corn which have been, together with some toleration of vent, hath of late time invited and enticed men to break up more ground and to convert it to tillage, than all the penal laws for that purpose made and enacted could ever by compulsion effect. A third proof may be, that the prices of grain and victual were never of late years more reasonable. Now for the arguments of the great wealth and plenty in all other respects, let the points following be considered. There was never the like number of fair and stately houses as have been built and set up from the ground since her Majesty’s reign; insomuch that there have been reckoned in one shire that is not great to the number of three and thirty, which have been all new built within that time; and whereof the meanest was never built for two thousand pounds. There were never the like pleasures of goodly gardens and orchards, walks, pools, and parks, as do adorn almost every mansion home. There was never the like number of beautiful and costly tombs and monuments, which are erected in sundry churches in honourable memory of the dead. There was never the like quantity of plate, jewels, sumptuous movables and stuff, as is now within the Realm. There was never the like quantity of waste and unprofi table ground inned, reclaimed, and improved. There was never the like husbanding of all sorts of grounds by fencing, manuring, and all kinds of good husbandry. 160 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

The towns were never better built nor peopled; nor the principal fairs and markets never better customed nor frequented. The commodities and eases of rivers cut by the hand and brought into a new channel, of piers that have been built of waters that have been forced and brought against the ground, were never so many. There was never so many excellent artifi cers, nor so many new handicrafts used and exer- cised, nor new commodities made within the Realm; as sugar, paper, glass, copper, divers silks, and the like. There was never the like complete and honourable provision of horse, armour, weapon, ordinance of the war. The fi fth blessing hath been the great population and multitude of families increased within her Majesty’s days. For which point I refer myself to the proclamations of restraint of building in London, the inhibition of inmates in sundry cities, the restraint of cottages by Act of Parliament, and sundry other tokens of record of the surcharge of people. Besides these parts of a government blessed from God, wherein the condition of the people hath been more happy in her Majesty’s times than in the times of her progenitors, there are certain singularities and particulars of her Majesty’s reign, wherein I do not say that we have enjoyed them in a more ample degree and proportion than in former ages (as it hath fallen out in the points afore-mentioned), but such as were in effect unknown and untested heretofore. As fi rst, the Purity of Religion; which is a benefi t inestimable, and was in the time of all former Princes, until the days of her Majesty’s father of famous memory, unheard of. Out of which purity of religion have since ensued, besides the principal effect of the true knowledge and worship of God, three points of great consequence unto the civil estate. One, the stay of a mighty treasure within the Realm, which in foretimes was drawn forth to Rome: another, the dispersing and distribution of those revenues (amounting to a third part of the land of the Realm, and that of the goodliest and the richest sort) which heretofore were unprofi tably spent in monasteries, into such hands as by whom the Realm receiveth at this day service and strength, and many great houses have been set up and augmented: the third, the manumising and enfranchising of the regal dignity from the recognition of a foreign superior. All which points, though begun by her father and continued by her brother, were yet nevertheless after an eclipse or intermission restored and re-established by her Majesty’s self. Secondly, the Fineness of Money. For as the purging away of the dross of religion, the heavenly treasure, was common to her Majesty with her father and her brother, so the purging of the base money, the earthly treasure, hath been altogether proper to her Majesty’s own times; whereby our moneys bearing the natural estimation of the metal and not the legal estimation of the stamp or mark, both every man resteth assured of his own value, and also Lochithea 161 free from the losses and deceits, which fall out in other places upon the raising and fallings of moneys. Thirdly, the might of the Navy and augmentation of the Shipping of the Realm; which by politic constitutions for maintenance of fi shing and the encouragement and assistance given to the undertakers of new discoveries and trades by sea is so advanced, as this island is become (as the natural site thereof deserveth) the Lady of the Sea. Now to pass from the comparison of time to the comparison of place. We may fi nd in the states abroad cause of pity and compassion in some, but of envy or emulation in none; our condition being, by the good favour of God, not inferior to any. The Kingdom of France, which by reason of the seat of the empire of the west was wont to have the precedence of the Kingdoms of Europe, is now fallen into those calamities, that, as the prophet saith, From the crown of the head to the sole of the foot there is no whole place. The divisions are so many and so intricate, or Protestants and Catholics, Royalists and Leaguers, Bourbonists and Lorainists, Patriots and Spanish, as it seemeth God hath some great work to bring to pass upon that nation; yea the nobility divided from the third state, and the towns from the fi eld. All which miseries, truly to speak, have been wrought by Spain and Spanish faction. The Low Countries, which were within the age of a young man the richest, the best peopled, and the best built plot of Europe, are in such estate as a country is like to be in, that hath been the seat of thirty years’ war; and although the sea-provinces be rather increased in wealth and shipping than otherwise, yet they cannot but mourn for their distraction from the rest of their body. The Kingdom of Portugal (which of late times, through their merchandising and places in the East Indies, was grown to be opulent Kingdom) is now at the last, after the unfortunate journey of Afric, in that state as a country is like to be, reduced under a foreign obedience by conquest; and such a foreigner as was to that nation least acceptable; and such a foreigner as hath his competitor in title (being a natural Portugal and no stranger, and having been once in possession) yet in life; whereby his jealousy must necessarily be increased, and through his jealousy their oppression; which is apparent by the carving of many noble families out of their natural countries to live in exile, and by putting to death a great number of noblemen, naturally born to have been principal governors of their countries. These are the three affl icted parts of Christendom. The rest of the states enjoy either prosperity or tolerable condition. The Kingdom of Scotland, though at this present by the good regiment and wise proceeding of the King they enjoy good quiet, yet since our peace it hath passed through no small troubles, and remaineth full of boiling and swelling humours; but like by the maturity of the said King every day increasing, to be repressed. The Kingdom of Poland is newly recovered out of great wars about an ambiguous election; and besides is a state of that composition that, their King being elective, they do 162 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals commonly choose rather a stranger than one of their own country; a great exception to the fl ourishing estate of any Kingdom. The Kingdom of Swedeland (besides their foreign wars upon their confi ners, the Muscovites and the Danes) hath been also subject to divers intestine tumults and mutations, as their stories do record. The Kingdom of Denmark hath had good times, specially by the good government of the late King who maintained the profession of the Gospel; but yet greatly giveth place to the Kingdom of England, in climate, wealth, fertility, and many other points both of humour and strength. The States of Italy which are not under the dominion of Spain have had peace equal in continuance with ours, except in regard to that which hath passed between them and the Turk. Which hath sorted to their honour and commendation. But yet they are so bridled and over-awed by the Spaniard, that possesseth the two principal members thereof and that in the two extreme parts, as they be like quillets of freehold lying intermixed in the midst of a great honour or Lordship; so as their quiet is intermingled, not with jealousy alone, but with restraint. The States of Germany have had for the most part peaceable times; but yet they yield to the State of England; not only in the great honour of a great Kingdom (they being of a mean style and dignity), but also in many other respects both of wealth and policy. The State of Savoy, having in the old Duke’s time been governed in good prosperity, hath since (notwithstanding their new great alliance with Spain, whereupon they waxed insolent to design to snatch up some piece of France) after the dishonourable repulse from the siege of Geneva been often distressed by a particular gentleman of Dauphiny; and at this present day the Duke feeleth, even in Piedmont beyond the mountains, the weight of the same enemy; who hath lately shut up his gates and common entries between Savoy and Piedmont. So as hitherto I do not see but that we are as much bound to the mercies of God as any other nation; considering that the fi res of dissension and oppression in some part of Christendom may serve us for lights to show us our happiness; and the good estates of other places, which we do congratulate with them for, in such nevertheless as doth not stain and exceed outs, but rather doth still leave somewhat wherein we may acknowledge an extraordinary benediction of God. Lastly, we do not much emulate the greatness and glory of the Spaniards; who having not only excluded the purity of religion, but also fortifi ed against it by the device of their inquisition (which is a bulwark against the entrance of the truth of God); having, in recompense of their new purchase of Portugal, lost a great part of their ancient patrimony of the Low Countries (being of far greater commodity and value), or at the least holding part thereof in such sort as most of their other revenues are spent there upon their own; having lately with much diffi culty rather smoothed and skinned over than healed and extinguished the commotion of Arragon; having rather sowed troubles in France than reaped any assured Lochithea 163 fruit thereof unto themselves; having from the attempt of England received scorn and disreputation; being at this time with the states of Italy rather suspected than either loved or feared; having in Germany and elsewhere rather much practice than any sound intelligence or amity; having no such clear succession as they need object and reproach the uncertainty thereof unto another nation;—have in the end won a reputation rather of ambition than justice; and in the pursuit of their ambition, rather of much enterprising than of fortunate achieving; and in their enterprising, rather of doing things by treasure and expense than by forces and valour. Now that I have given the reader a taste of England respectively and in comparison of the times past and of the states abroad, I will descend to examine the libeller’s own divisions; whereupon let the world judge how easily and clean this ink which he hath cast in our faces is washed off. The fi rst branch of the pretended calamities of England is the great and wonderful confusion which he saith is in the state of the church; which is subdivided again into two parts; the one, the persecutions against the Catholics; the other, the discord and controversies amongst ourselves. The former of which two parts I have made an article by itself; wherein I have set down a clear and simple narration of the proceedings of State against that sort of subjects; adding this by the way, that there are two extremities in state concerning the causes of faith and religion; that is to say, the permission of the exercises of more religions than one which is a dangerous indulgence and toleration; the other is the entering and sifting into men’s consciences when no overt scandal is given, which is a rigorous and stainable inquisition; and I avouch the proceedings towards the pretended Catholics to have been a men between these two extremities; referring the demonstration thereof unto the aforesaid narration in the article following. Touching the divisions in our church, the libeller affi rmeth that the Protestantical Calvinism (for so it pleaseth him with very good grace to term the religion with us established), is grown contemptible, and detected of idolatry, heresy, and many other superstitious abuses, by a purifi ed sort of professors of the same gospel; and this contention is yet grown to be more intricate by reason of a third kind of gospellers called Brownists;31 who, being directed by the great fervour of the unholy ghost, do expressly affi rm that the Protestantical Church of England is not gathered in the name of Christ but of Antichrist, and that if the Prince or magistrate under her do refuse of defer to reform the church, the people may without her consent take the reformation into their own hands. And hereto

31 Robert Browne (1550–1633) a puritan Congregationalist church leader, one of the original pro- ponents of the Separatists, or Free Church, movement among nonconformists that demanded separation from the Church of England and freedom from state control. His Separatist followers became known as Brownists. Educated at Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, and ordained, he, with Robert Harrison, gathered a Separatist Church at Norwich in 1580. As a consequence of this and other similar activities, he was imprisoned 32 times and in 1582 was exiled. He subsequently returned to England, however, and conformed to the established church. He was the author of a number of books, including A Treatise of Reformation Without Tarying for Anie (1582) 164 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals he addeth the fanatical pageant of Hacket. And this is the effect to his accusation in this point. For answer whereunto, fi rst it must be remembered that the church of God hath been in all ages subject to contentions and schisms. The tares were not sown but where the wheat was sown before. Our Saviour Christ delivereth it for an ill note to have outward peace; saying, when a strong man is in possession of the house (meaning the Devil), all things are in peace. It is the condition of the church to be ever under trials; and there are but two trials; the one of persecution, the other of scandal and contention; and when the one ceaseth the other succeedeth. Nay, there is scarce any one epistle of St. Paul unto the churches but containeth some reprehension of unnecessary and schismatical controversy. So likewise in the time of Constantine the Great, after the time that the church had obtained peace from persecution, straight entered sundry questions and controversies about no less matters than the essential points of the faith and the high mysteries of the Trinity. But reason teacheth us that in ignorance an implied belief it is easy to agree, as colours agree in the dark; or if any country decline into atheism then controversies wax dainty, because me do think religion scarce worth the falling out for. So as it is weak divinity to account controversies an ill sign in the church. It is true that certain men, moved with an inconsiderate detestation, of all ceremonies or orders which were in use in the time of the Roman religion) as if they were without difference superstitious or polluted), and led with an affectionate imitation of the government of some Protestant churches in foreign states, have sought by books and preaching, indiscreetly and sometimes undutifully, to bring in an alteration in the extern rites and policy of the church. But neither have the grounds of the controversies extended unto any point of faith; neither hath the pressing and prosecution exceeded, in the generality, the nature of some inferior contempts; so as they have been far from heresy and sedition, and therefore rather offensive than dangerous to the church or state. And as for those which we call Brownists, being, when they were at the most, a very small number of very silly and base people here and there in corners dispersed, they are now (thanks be to God) by the good remedies that have been used suppressed and worn out, so as there is scarce any news of them. Neither had they been much known at all, had not Brown their leader written a pamphlet, wherein, as it came into his head, he inveighed more against logic and rhetoric than against the estate of the church; which writing was much read; and had not also one Barrow (being a gentleman of a good house, but one that lived in London at ordinaries and there learned to argue in table talk and so was very much known in the city and abroad) Lochithea 165 made a leap from a vain and libertine youth to a preciseness in the highest degree; the strangeness of which alteration made him very much spoken of. And here I note an honesty and discretion in the libeller, which I note nowhere else, in that he did forbear to lay to our charge the sect of the Family of Love. For about twelve years since, there was creeping in some secret places of the Realm indeed a very great heresy, derived from the Dutch and named as was before said; which since, by the good blessing of God and by the good strength of our church, is vanished and extinct. But so much we see, that the diseases wherewith our church hath been visited, whatsoever these men say, have either not been malign and dangerous, or else they have been as blis- ters in some small ignoble part of the body, which have soon after fallen and gone away. For such also was the phrenetical or fanatical (for I mean not to determine it) attempt of Hackett; who must needs have been thought a very dangerous heretic, that could never get but two disciples, and those, as it should seem, perished in their brain; and a dangerous commotioner, that in so great and populous a city as London it could draw but those same two fellows, whom the people rather laughed at as a may-game than took any heed of what they did or said. So as it was true that an honest poor woman said when she saw Hackett out of a window pass to his execution; said she to herself, “It was foretold that in the latter days there should come those that should deceive many; but in faith thou hast deceived but a few.” But it is a manifest untruth, which the libeller setteth down, that there hath been no punishment done upon those, which in any of the foresaid kinds have broken the laws and disturbed the church and state, and that the edge of the law hath been only turned upon the pretended Catholics; for the examples are very many where, according to the nature and degree of the offence, the correction of such offenders hath not been neglected. These be the great confusions whereof he hath accused our church, which I refer to the judgment of all indifferent and understanding persons, how true they be. My meaning is not to blanch or excuse any fault of our church, nor on the other side to enter into commemoration how fl ourishing it is in great and learned divines or painful and excellent preachers. Let man have the reproof of that which is amiss, and God the glory of that which is good. And so much for the fi rst branch. In the second branch, he maketh great musters and shows of the strength and multitude of the enemies of this State; declaring in what evil terms and correspondence we stand with foreign states, and how desolate and destitute we are of friends and confederates; doubting belike how he should be able to prove and justify his assertion touching the present miseries, and therefore endeavouring at the least to maintain that the good estate which we enjoy is yet made somewhat bitter by reason of many terrors and fears. Whereupon entering into consideration of the security wherein, not by our own policy but by the good providence and protection of God, we stand at this time; I do fi nd it to be a security of that nature and kind which Iphicrates the Athenian did commend; who being a commissioner to treat with the state of Sparta upon condition of peace, and hearing the 166 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals other side made many propositions touching security, interrupted them and told them, “there was but one manner of security whereupon the Athenians could rest; which was, if the deputies of the Lacedæmonians could make it plain unto them that, after these and these things parted withal, the Lacedæmonians should not be able to hurt them though they would. So it is with us. As we have not justly provoked the hatred or enmity of any other state so, however that be, I know not at this time the enemy that hath the power to offend us though he had the will. And whether we have given just quarrel of offence, it shall be afterwards touched in the fourth article, touching the true causes of the disturbance of the quiet of Christendom; as far as it is fi t to justify the actions of so high a Prince upon the occasion of such a libel as this. But now concerning the power and forces of any enemy, I do fi nd that England hath sometimes apprehended with jealousy the confederation between France and Scotland; the one being upon the same continent that we are, and breeding a soldier of puissance and courage not much differing from the English; the other a Kingdom very opulent, and thereby able to sustain wars at very great charge, and having a brave nobility, and being a near neighbour. And yet of this conjunction there came never any offence of moment unto our nation. But Scotland was ever rather used by France as a diversion of an English invasion upon France than as a commodity of a French invasion upon England. I confess also, that since the unions of the Kingdoms of Spain, and during the time the Kingdom of France was in entire, a conjunction of those two potent Kingdoms against us might have been of some terror to us. But now it is evident that the State of France is such as both those conjunctions are become impossible. It resteth that either Spain with Scotland should offend us, or Spain alone. For Scotland (thanks be to God) the amity and intelligence is so sound and strait between the two crowns, being strengthened by consent in religion, nearness of blood, and continual good offi ces reciprocally on either side, as the Spaniard himself in his own plot thinketh it easier to alter and overthrow the present state of Scotland than to remove and divide it from the amity of England. So as it must be Spain alone that we should fear; which should seem, by reason of spacious dominions, to be a great overmatch. The conceit whereof maketh me call to mind the resemblance of an ancient writer in physic; who labouring to persuade that a physician should not doubt sometimes to purge his patient though he see him very weak, entereth into a distinction of weakness; and saith there is a weakness of spirit, and a weakness of body; the latter whereof he compareth unto a man that were otherwise very strong, but had a great pack on his neck so great as made him double again, so as one might thrust him down with his fi nger; which similitude and distinction both may be fi tly applied to matter of State; for some states are weak through want of means, and some weak through excess of burthen; in which rank I do place the State of Spain, which having out-compassed itself in embracing of much, and being itself Lochithea 167 but a barren seed-plot of soldiers, and much drained and exhausted of men by the Indies and by continual wars, and as to the state of their treasure being indebted and engaged before such times as they wage so great forces in France (and therefore much more since), is not in brief an enemy to be feared by a nation seated, manned, furnished, and pollicied as in England. Neither is this spoken by guess. For the experience was substantial enough, and of fresh memory, in the late enterprise of Spain upon England; what time all that goodly shipping which in that voyage was consumed, was complete; what time his forces in the Low Countries were also full and entire, which now are wasted to a fourth part; what time also he was not entangled with the matters of France, but was rather like to receive assistance than impediment from his friends there, in respect of the great vigour wherein the league then was, while the Duke of Guise lived. And yet nevertheless all this great preparation passed away like a dream. The invincible navy neither took any one bark of ours, neither yet once offered to land; but after they had been well beaten and chased, made a perambulation about the northern seas, enabling many coasts with wrecks of mighty ships; and so returned home with greater derision than they set forth with expectation. So as we shall not need much confederacies and succours (which he saith we want) for the breaking of the Spanish invasion: no, though the Spaniard should nestle in Brittaine and supplant the French and get some port-towns into their hands there (which is yet far off), yet shall he never be so commodiously seated to annoy us as if he had kept the Low Countries; and we shall rather fear him as a wrangling neighbour that may trespass now and then upon some straggling ships of ours, than as an invader. And as for our confederacies, God hath given us both means and minds to tender and relieve the states of others, and therefore our confederacies are rather of honour than such as we depend upon. And yet nevertheless “the apostataes and Huguenots of France” on the one part (for so he termeth the whole nobility in a manner of France, among the which a great part is of his own religion, which maintain the clear and unblemished title of their lawful and natural King against, the seditious popular), and “the beer-brewers and basket-makers of Holland and Zealand” on the other, have almost banded away between them all the Duke of Parma’s forces; and I suppose the very mines of the Indies will go low, or ever the one be ruined or the other recovered. Neither again desire we better confederacies and leagues than Spain itself hath provided for us. Non enim verbis faedera confi rmantur, sed iisdem utilitatibus. We know to how many states the King of Spain is odious and suspected; and for ourselves we have incensed none by our injuries, nor made any jealous by our ambition. These are in rules of policy the fi rmest contracts. Let thus much be said in answer of this second branch, concerning the number of exterior enemies wherein my meaning is nothing less than to attribute our felicity to our policy, or to nourish ourselves in the humour of security. But I hope we shall depend upon God and be vigilant; and then it will be seen to what end these false alarums will come. 168 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

In the third branch of the miseries of England, he taketh upon him to play the prophet, as he hath in all the rest played the poet, and will needs divine or prognosticate the great troubles whereunto this Realm shall fall after her Majesty’s times; as if he that hath so singular a gift in lying of the present time and times past, had nevertheless an extraordinary grace in telling truth of the time to come; or as if the effect of the Pope’s curse of England were upon better advice adjourned to those days. It is true it will be misery enough for this Realm (whensoever it shall be) to lease such a Sovereign. But for the rest, as we must repose ourselves upon the good pleasure of God, so it is an unjust charge in the libeller to impute an accident of state to the fault of the government. It pleaseth God sometimes, to the end to make men depend upon him the more, to hide from them the clear sight of future events, and to make them think that full of incertainty and diffi culty which after proveth certain and clear; and sometimes on the other side to across men’s expectation, and to make them fi nd that full of diffi culty and interruption which they thought to be easy and assured. Neither is it any new thing for the titles of succession in monarchies to be at times less or more declared. King Sebastian of Portugal, before his journey into Africk, declared no successor. The Cardinal, though he were of extreme age and were much importuned by the King of Spain and knew directly of six or seven competitors to that crown, yet rather established I know not what interim than decided the titles or designed any certain successor. The Dukedom of Ferrara is at this day, after the death of the Prince that now liveth, uncertain in the point of succession. The Kingdom of Scotland hath declared no successor. Nay it is very rare in hereditary monarchies, by any Act of State or any recognition or oath of the people, in the collateral line to establish a successor. The Duke of Orleans succeeded Charles VIII., of France, but was never declared successor in his time. Monsieur d’ Angoulesme also succeeded him, but without any designation. Sons of Kings themselves oftentimes through desire to reign and to prevent their time wax dangerous to their parents; how much more cousins in a more remote degree? It is lawful no doubt and honourable, if the case require, for Princes to make an establishment; but as it was said, it is rarely practised in the collateral line. Trajan, the best Emperor of Rome of a heathen that ever was; at what time the Emperors did use to design successors, not so much to avoid the uncertainty of succession as to the end to have participes curarum for the present time, because their empire was so vast; at what time also adoptions were in use, and himself had been adopted; yet never designed a successor but by his last will and testament; which also was thought to be suborned by his wife Plotina in favour of her lover Adrian. Nothing hath been done to prejudice the right, and there can be but one right. But one thing I am persuaded of, that no King of Spain nor Bishop of Rome shall umpire nor Lochithea 169 promote any benefi ciary or feudatory King; as they designed to do even when the Scottish Queen lived, whom they pretended to cherish. I will not retort the matter of succession upon Spain, but use the modesty and reverence that belongeth to the Majesty of so great a King, though an enemy. And so much for this third branch. The fourth branch he maketh to be touching the overthrow of the nobility and the oppression of the people. Wherein though he may percase abuse the simplicity of some foreigner, yet to any Englishman, or any that hath heard of the present condition of England, he will appear to be a man of singular audacity and worthy to be employed in the defence of any paradox. And surely if he would needs have defaced the general state of England at this time, he should in wisdom rather have made some friarly declamation against the excess and superfl uity and delicacy of our times, than to have insisted upon the misery and poverty and depopulation of the land; as may suffi ciently appear by that which hath been said. But nevertheless, to follow this man in his own steps. First, concerning the nobility. It is true, that there have been in ages past noblemen (as I take it) both of greater possessions and of greater commandment and sway than any are at this day. One reason why the possessions are less conceived to be, because certain sumptuous veins and humours of expense, as apparel, gaming, maintaining of a kind of followers, and the like, do reign more than they did in time past. Another reason is, because noblemen nowadays do deal better with their younger sons than they were accustomed to do heretofore, whereby the principal house receiveth many abatements. Touching the commandment, which is not indeed so great as it hath been, I take it rather to be a commendation of the time than otherwise. For men were wont factiously to depend upon noblemen; whereof ensued many partialities and divisions, besides much interruption of justice, while the great ones did seek to bear out those that did depend upon them; so as the Kings of this Realm, fi nding long since that kind of commandment in noblemen unsafe unto their crown and inconvenient unto their people. Though meet to restrain the same by provision of laws; whereupon grew the statute of retainers; so as men now depend upon the Prince and the Laws and upon no other. A matter which hath also a congruity with the nature of the time; as may be seen in other countries, namely in Spain, where their grandes are nothing so potent and so absolute as they have been in times past. But otherwise it may be truly affi rmed that the rights and pre-eminencies of the nobility were never more duly and exactly preserved unto them than they have been in her Majesty’s times; the precedence of Knights given to the younger sons of barons; no subpoenas awarded against the nobility out of the Chancery, but letters; no answer upon oath, but honour; besides a number of other privileges in Parliament, court, and country. 170 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

So likewise for the countenance which they receive of her Majesty and the state in lieuten- ancies, commissions, offi ces, and the like, there was never a more honourable and graceful regard had of the nobility; neither was there ever a more faithful remembrancer and exacter of all these particular pre-eminencies unto them, nor a more diligent searcher and register of their pedigrees, alliances, and all memorials of honour, that that man whom he chargeth to have overthrown the nobility, because a few of them by immoderate expense are decayed, according to the humour of the time which he hath not been able to resist, no not in his own house. And as for attainders, there have been in their fi ve years but fi ve of any of the nobility, and whereof but two came to execution; and one of them was accompanied with restitution of blood in the children; yea all of them, except Westmoreland, were such as, whether it were by favour of law or government, their heirs have, or are like to have, a great part of their possession. And so much for the nobility. Touching the oppression of the people, he mentioneth four points. 1. The consumption of people in the wards 2. The interruption of traffi c 3. The corruption of justice 4. The multitude of taxations Unto all which points there needeth no long speech. For the fi rst, thanks be to God, the benediction of Grescite et multiplicamini is not so weak upon this Realm of England, but the population thereof may afford such loss of men as were suffi cient of the making our late wars, and it were in a perpetuity, without being seen either in city or country. We read that when the Romans did take cense of their people, whereby the citizens were numbered by the poll in the beginning of a great war, and afterwards again at the ending, there sometimes wanted a third part of the number. But let our muster-books be perused (those, I say, that certify the number of all fi ghting men in every shire) of 20mo of the Queen,—at what time (except a handful of soldiers in the Low Countries) we expended no men in the wars,—and now again at this present time; and there will appear small diminution. There be many tokens in this Realm rather of press and surcharge of people than of want and depopulation, which were before recited. Besides it is a better condition of an inward peace to be accompanied with some exercise of no dangerous war in foreign parts, than to be utterly without apprentisage of war, whereby people grow effeminate and unpractised when occasion shall be. And it is no small strength unto the Realm, that in these wards of exercise and not of peril so many of our people are trained, and so many of our nobility and gentlemen have been made excellent leaders both by sea and land. As for that he objecteth we have no provision for soldiers at their return; though that point hath not been altogether neglected, yet I wish with all my heart that I were more ample than it is; though I have read and heard that in all estates upon casing and disbanding of soldiers many have endured necessity. Lochithea 171

For the stopping of traffi c, as I referred myself to the muster-books for the fi rst, so I refer myself to the custom-books upon this, which will not lie, and do make demonstration of no abatement at all in these last years, but rather of rising and increase. We know of many in London and other places that are within a small time greatly come up and made rich by merchandising; and a man may speak within his compass, and affi rm that our prices by sea have countervailed any prizes upon us. And as to the justice of this Realm, it is true that cunning and wealth have bred many suits and debates in law. But let these points be considered; the integrity and suffi ciently of those which supply the judicial place sin the Queen’s Courts; the good laws that have been made in her Majesty’s time against informers and promoters, and for the bettering of trials; the exemplar severity which is used in the Star-Chamber in repressing forces and frauds; the diligence and stoutness that is used by justices of assizes in encountering all countenancing and bearing of causes in the country by their authorities and wisdoms; the great favours that have been used towards copyholders and customary tenants, which were in ancient times merely at the discretion and mercy of the Lord, and are now continually relieved from hard dealing in chancery and other courts of equity; I say, let these and many other points be considered, and men will worthily conceive an honourable opinion of the justice of England. Now to the point of levies and contributions of money, which he calleth exactions. First, very coldly he is not abashed to bring in the gathering of Paul’s steeple and the lottery; trifl es, and passed long since; whereof the former, being by a voluntary collection of that men were freely disposed to give, never grew to so great a sum as was suffi cient to fi nish the work for which it was appointed, and so (I imagine) was converted to some better use; like to that gathering which was for the fortifi cation of Paris; save that that came to a much greater, though (as I have heard) no competent sum. And for the lottery, it was but a novelty devised and followed by some particular persons, and only allowed by the state, being as a game of hazard; wherein if any gain was, it was because many men though scorned (after they had fallen from their greater hopes) to fetch their old money. Then he mentioneth loans and Privy Seals; wherein he showeth great ignorance and indiscretion, considering the payment back again have been very good and certain, and much for her Majesty’s honour. Indeed in other Princes’ times it was not wont to be so; and therefore thought the name be not so pleasant, yet the use of them in our times have been with small grievance. He reckoneth also new customs upon cloths, and new impost upon wines. In that of cloths he is deceived; for the ancient rate of custom upon cloths was not raised by her Majesty, but by Queen Mary, a Catholic Queen, and hath been only continued by her Majesty; except he mean the computation of the odd yards, which in strict duty was ever answerable, though the error were but lately looked into, or rather the toleration taken away. And to that of wines, being a foreign merchandise and but a delicacy and of those which might be forborne, here hath been some increase of imposition; which hath rather made the price of wine higher than the merchant poorer. 172 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Lastly, touching the number of subsidies, it is true that her Majesty, in respect of the great charges of her wars both by sea and land against such a Lord of treasure as is the King of Spain; having for her part no Indies nor mines, and the revenues of the crown of England being such as they less grate upon the people than the revenues of any crown or State in Europe; hath by the assent of Parliament according to the ancient customs of the Realm received divers subsidies of her people; which as they have been employed upon the defence and preservation of her subjects, not upon excessive building nor upon immoderate donatives nor upon triumphs and pleasures or any the like veins of dissipation of treasure, which have been familiar to many Kings, so have they been yielded with great good-will and cheerfulness as may appear by other kids of benevolence, presented to her likewise in Parliament, which her Majesty nevertheless hath not put in err. They have been taxed also and assessed with a very light and gentle hand; and they have been spared as much as may be, as may appear in that her Majesty now twice, to spare the subject, hath sold of her own lands. But he that shall look into other countries, and consider the taxes and tallages and impositions and assesses, and the like, that are everywhere in use, will ﬁ nd that; the Englishman is the most master of his own value, and the least bitten in his purse of any nation of Europe. Nay even at this instant in the Kingdom of Spain, notwithstanding the pioners do still work in the Indian mines, the Jesuits must play the pioners and mine into the Spaniards’ purses, and under the colour of a ghostly exhortation contrive the greatest exaction that ever was in any Realm. Thus much in answer of these calumniations I have thought good to note touching the present State of England; which State is such, that whosoever hath been an architect in the frame therefore, under the blessing of God and the virtues of our Sovereign, needs not to be ashamed of his work. I pray God we may be thankful for his beneﬁ ts and use them in his fear.

III. Of The Proceedings Against The Pretended Catholics, Whether They Have Been Violent Or Moderate And Necessary. I fi nd her Majesty’s proceedings generally to have been grounded upon two principles; the one, that consciences are not to be forced, but to be won and reduced by the force of truth, by the aid of time, and the use of all good means of instruction or persuasion; the other, that causes of conscience when they exceed their bounds and grow to be matter of faction, leese their nature; and that Sovereign Princes ought distinctly to punish the practice or contempt, though coloured with the pretences of conscience and religion. According to these two principles, her Majesty at her coming to the crown, utterly disliking of the tyranny of the church of Rome, which had used by terror and rigour to seek commandment of men’s faiths and consciences, although as a Prince of great wisdom and magnanimity she suffered but the exercise of one religion, yet her proceeding towards the Papists was with great lenity, expecting the good effects which time might work in them. And therefore her Majesty revived not the laws made in the fi ve-and-twentieth years and the eight-twentieth years of her father’s reign, whereby the oath of supremacy might have Lochithea 173 been offered at the King’s pleasure to any subject, though he kept his conscience never so modestly to himself, and the refusal to take the same oath without further circumstance was made treason. But contrariwise her Majesty (not liking to make windows into men’s hearts and secret thoughts, except the abundance of them did overfl ow into overt and express acts and affi rmations,) tempered her law so, as it restraineth only manifest disobedience in impugning and impeaching advisedly and maliciously her Majesty’s supreme power, and maintaining and extolling a foreign jurisdiction. And as for the oath, it was altered by her Majesty into a more grateful form; the harshness of the name and appella- tion of Supreme Head was removed; and the penalty of the refusal thereof turned only into a disablement to take any promotion or to exercise any charge; and yet that with a liberty of being reinvested therein, if any man shall accept thereof during his life. But after many years’ toleration of a multitude of factious Papists, when Pius Quintus had excommunicated her Majesty, and the Bull of Excommunication was published in London, whereby her Majesty was in a sort proscribed, and all her subjects drawn upon pain of damnation from her obedience; and that thereupon, as upon a principal motive or preparative, followed the rebellion in the north; yet notwithstanding, because many of those evil humours were by that rebellion partly purged, and that she feared at that time no foreign invasion, and much less the attempts of any within the Realm not backed by some succours from without, she contented herself to make a law against that special case of bringing in or publishing of Bulls or the like instruments; whereunto was added a prohibition, not upon pain of treason, but of an inferior degree of punishment, against bringing in of Agnus Dei’s, hallowed beads, and such other merchandise of Rome as are well-known not to be any essential part of the Roman religion, but only to be used in practice as love- tokens to enchant and bewitch the people’s affections from their allegiance to their natural Sovereign. In all other points her Majesty continued her former lenity. But when, about the twentieth year of her reign, she had discovered in the King of Spain an intention to invade her dominions, and that a principal point of the plot was to prepare a party within the Realm that might adhere to the foreigner; and that the seminaries began to blossom and to send forth daily priests and professed men who should by vow taken at shrift reconcile her subjects from their obedience, yea and bind many of them to attempt against her Majesty’s sacred person; and that by the poison they spread the humours of most Papists were altered, and that they were no more Papists in conscience, but Papists in treasonable faction; then were there new laws made for the punishment of such as should submit themselves to such reconcilements or renunciations of obedience. For it is to be understood that this manner of reconcilement in confession is of the same nature and operation that the Bull itself was of, with this only difference, that whereas the Bull aasoiled the subjects from their obedience all at once, the other doth it one by one; and therefore it is both more secret and more insinuative into the conscience, being joined with no less matter than an absolution from mortal sin. And because it was a treason carried in the clouds and in wonderful secrecy, and came seldom to light; and that there was no presumption thereof so great as the recusance to come to divine service, because it was set down by their decrees that “to come to church before reconcilement was to live in schism, but to come to church after reconcilement was absolutely heretical and damnable;” therefore 174 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals there were added new laws containing a punishment pecuniary against such recusants, not to enforce consciences, but to enfeeble and impoverish those of whom it rested indifferent and ambiguous whether they were reconciled or no. For there is no doubt but if the law of recusancy (which is challenged to be so extreme and rigorous) were thus qualifi ed, “that any recusant that shall voluntarily come in and take his oath that he or she were never reconciled should immediately be discharged of the penalty and forfeiture of that law,” they would be so far from liking well of that mitigation, as they would cry out it was made to entrap them. And when, notwithstanding all this provision, this poison was dispersed so secretly as that there was no means to stay it but to restrain the merchants that brought it in, then was there lastly added a law whereby such seditious priests of the new erection were exiled, and those that were at that time within the land shipped over, and so commanded to keep hence upon pain of treason. This hath been the proceeding with that sort, though intermingled not only with sundry examples of her Majesty’s grace towards such as in her wisdom she knew to be Papists in conscience and not in faction, but also with an ordinary mitigation towards the offenders in the highest degree convicted by law, if they would but protest, that in case this Realm should be invaded with a foreign army by the Pope’s authority for the Catholic cause (as they term it), they would take part with her Majesty, and not adhere to her enemies. And whereas he saith no priest dealt in matter of state (Ballard only excepted), it appeareth by the records of the confession of the said Ballard and sundry other priests, that all priests at that time generally were made acquainted with the invasion then intended and afterwards put in act, and had received instructions not only to move an expectation in the people of a change, but also to take their vows and promises in shrift to adhere to the foreigner; insomuch that one of their principal heads vaunted himself in a letter of the device, saying that it was a point the Council of England would never dream of, who would imagine that they should practise with some nobleman to make him head of their faction; whereas they took a course only to deal with the people, and them so severally, as any one apprehended should be able to appeach no more than himself, except it were the priest, who he knew would reveal nothing that was uttered in confession. So innocent was this princely priestly function, which this man taketh to be but a matter of conscience, and thinketh it reason it should have free exercise throughout the land.

IV. Of The Disturbance Of The Quiet Of Christendom; And To What Causes It May Be Justly Imputed. It is indeed a question which those that look anything into matter of State do will know to fall out very often, though this libeller seemeth to be ignorant thereof, whether the ambition of the more mighty state, or the jealousy of the less mighty, be to be charged with breach of amity. Hereof as there may be many examples, so there is one so proper unto the present matter, as though it were many years since, yet it seemeth to be a parable of these times, and namely of the proceedings of Spain and England. The States then which answered to these two now, were Macedon and Athens. Consider therefore the resemblance between the two Philips, of Macedon and Spain. He of Macedon Lochithea 175 aspired to the monarchy of Greece, as he of Spain doth of Europe; but more apparently than the fi rst; because that design was discovered in his father Charles V., and so left him by descent, whereas Philip of Macedon was the fi rst of the Kings of that nation which fi xed so great conceits in his breast. The course which this King of Macedon held was not so much by great armies and invasions (though these wanted not when the case required), but by practice, by sowing of factions in states, and by obliging sundry particular persons of greatness. The state of opposition against his ambitious proceedings was only the State of Athens, as now is the state of England against Spain. For Lacedæmon and Thebes were both low, as France is now; and the rest of the states of Greece were in power and territories far inferior. The people of Athens were exceedingly affected to peace and weary of expense. But the point which I chiefl y make the comparison was, that of the orators, which were as counsellors to a popular state, such as were sharpest sighted and looked deepest into the projects and spreading of the Macedonians (doubting still that the fi re, after it had licked up the neighbour states and made itself opportunity to pass, would at last take hold of the dominions of Athens with so great advantages as they should not be able to remedy it), were ever charged both by the declarations of the King of Macedon and by the imputation of such Athenians as were corrupted to be of his faction, as the kindlers of troubles and disturbers of the peace and leagues. But as that party was in Athens too mighty, so as it discountenanced the true orators counselors and so bred the ruin of that State and accomplished the ends of that Philip; so it is to be hoped that in a monarchy (where there are commonly better intelligences and resolutions than in a popular state), those plots, as they are detected already, so they will be resisted and made frustrate. But to follow the libeller in his own course. The sum of that which he delivereth concerning the imputation, as well of the interruption of the amity between the crowns of England and of Spain as the disturbance of the general peace of Christendom, unto the English proceedings and not to the ambitious appetites of Spain, may be reduced into three points. 1. Touching the proceeding of Spain and England towards their neighbour states 2. Touching the proceeding of Spain and England between themselves 3. Touching the articles and conditions, which it pleaseth him, as it were in the behalf of England, to pen and propose for the treating and concluding of an universal peace. In the fi rst, he discovereth that the King of Spain never offered molestation neither unto the States of Italy, upon which he confi neth by Naples and Milan; neither unto the states of Germany, upon whom he confi neth by a part of Burgundy and the Low Countries; nor unto Portugal (till it was devolute unto him in title), upon which he confi neth by Spain; but coutrariwise, as one that had in precious regard the peace of Christendom, designed from the beginning to turn his whole forces upon the Turk. Only he confesseth that agree- ably to his devotion, which apprehended as well the purging of Christendom from heresies as the enlarging thereof upon the Infi dels, he was ever ready to give succours unto the French Kings against the Huguenots, especially being their own subjects. Whereas on the other side England, as he affi rmeth, hath not only sowed troubles and dissensions in France 176 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and Scotland (the one their neighbour upon the continent, the other divided only by the narrow seas), but also hath actually invaded both Kngdoms. For as for the matters of the Low Countries, they belong to the dealings which have passed with Spain. In answer whereof, it is worthy the consideration how it pleased God in that King to cross one passion by another, and namely that passion which might have proved dangerous unto all Europe, which was his ambition, by another which was only hurtful to himself and his own, which was wrath and indignation towards his subjects the Netherlanders. For after that he was settled in his Kingdom and freed from some fear of the Turk, revolving his father’s design in aspiring to the monarchy of Europe, casting his eye principally upon the two potent Kingdoms of France and England, and remembering how his father had once promised unto himself the conquest of the one, and how himself by marriage had lately had some possession of the other; and seeing that diversity of religion was entered into both these Realms, and that France was fallen unto Princes weak and in minority, and England unto the government of a lady, in whom he did not expect that policy of government, magnanimity, and felicity, which since he hath proved; concluded (as the Spaniards are great waiters upon time and ground their plots deep) upon two points; the one to profess an extraordinary patronage and defence of the Roman religion; making account thereby to have factions in both Kingdoms; in England a faction directly against the state, in France a faction that did consent indeed in religion with the King, and therefore at fi rst show should seem unproper to make a party for a foreigner; but he foresaw well enough that the King of France should be forced in the end (to retain peace and obedience) to yield in some things to those of the religion, which would undoubtedly alienate the fi ercer and more violent sort of Papists; which preparation in the people, added to the ambition of the family of Guise which he nourished for an instrument, would in the end make a party for him against the state, as since it proved; and might well have done long before; as may well appear by the mention of leagues and associations, which is above twenty-fi ve years old in France. The other point he concluded upon was, that his Low Countries was the aptest place, both for ports and shipping in respect of England and for situation in respect of France, having goodly frontier towns upon that realm, and joining also upon Germany (whereby they might receive in at pleasure any forces of Almaigns), to annoy and offend either Kingdom. The impediment was the inclination of the people, which, receiving a wonderful commodity of trades out of both realms, especially England, and having been in ancient league and confederacy with our nation, and having been also homagers unto France, he knew would be in no wise disposed to either war. Whereupon he resolved to reduce them to a martial government, like unto that which he had established in Naples and Milan; upon which suppression of their liberties ensued the defection of those provinces. And about the same time the reformed religion found entrance in the same countries; so as the King, both kindled with the resistance he found in the fi rst part of his plots, and also because he might not dispense with his other principle in yielding to any toleration of religion, and withal expecting a shorter work of it than he found, became passionately bent to reconquer those countries; wherein he hath consumed infi nite treasure and forces. And this is the true cause, if a man will look into it that hath made the King of Spain so good a neighbour; namely that he was so entangled with the wars of the Low Countries as he could not intend any other enterprise. Besides, in enterprising upon Italy, he doubted Lochithea 177

fi rst the displeasure of the see of Rome, with whom he meant to run a course of strait conjunction. Also he doubted it might invite the Turk to return. And for Germany, he had a fresh example of his father, who when he had annexed unto the dominions which he now possesseth the empire of Almaign, nevertheless sank in that enterprise; whereby he perceived that that nation was of too strong a composition for him to deal withal; though not long since, by practice, he could have been contented to snatch up in the east the country of Embden. For Portugal; fi rst, the Kings thereof were good sons to the see of Rome; next, he had no colour of quarrel or pretence; thirdly, they were offi cious unto him. Yet if you will believe the Genuese (who otherwise writeth much to the honour and advantage of the Kings of Spain), it seemeth he had a good mind to make himself a way into that Kingdom; seeing that (for that purpose, as he reporteth) he did artifi cially nourish the young King Sebastian in the voyage of Afric, expecting that overthrow which followed. As for his intention to war upon the Infi dels and Turks, it maketh me think what Francis Guicciardine, a wise writer of history, speaketh of his great-grandfather, making a judgment of him (as historiographers use) after he had told of his death: This king (saith he) did always mask and veil his appetites with a demonstration of a devout and holy intention to the advancement of the church and the public good. His father also, when he received advertisement of the taking of the French King; prohibited all ringings and bonfi res and other tokens of joy, and said those were to be reserved for victories upon Infi dels (on whom he meant never to war). Many, a cruzada hath the Bishop of Rome granted to him and his predecessors upon that colour, which all have been spent upon the effusion of Christian blood. And now this present year the levies of Germans which should have been made underhand for France were coloured with the pretence of war upon the Turk; which the Princes of Germany descrying, not only brake the levies, but threatened the commissioners to hang the next that should offer the like abuse. So that this form of dissembling is familiar and as it were hereditary to the King of Spain. And as for his succours given to the French King against the Protestants, he could not choose but accompany the pernicious counsels which still he gave to the French Kings, of breaking their edicts and admitting no pacifi cation but pursuing their subjects with mortal war, with some offer of aids; which having promised, he could not but in some small degree perform; whereby also the subject of France, namely the violent Papist, was inured to depend upon Spain. And so much for the King of Spain’s proceedings toward other states. Now for ours. And fi rst, touching the point wherein he chargeth us to be the authors of troubles in Scotland and France, it will appear to any that have been well informed of the memories of these affairs that the troubles of those Kingdoms were indeed chiefl y kindled by one and the same family of the Guise; a family, as was partly touched before, as particularly devoted now for many years together to Spain as the order of the Jesuits is. This house of Guise having of late years extraordinarily fl ourished in the eminent virtue of a few persons, whose ambition nevertheless was nothing inferior to their virtue, but being a house nevertheless which the Princes of the blood of France reckoned but as strangers, aspired to a greatness more than civil and proportionable to their cause, wheresoever they had authority; and accordingly, under colour of consanguinity and religion, 178 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals they brought into Scotland in the year I559 and in the absence of the King and Queen (being in their usurped tutele), French forces in great numbers; whereupon the ancient nobility of that Realm, seeing the imminent danger of reducing that Kingdom under the tyranny of strangers, did pray (according to the good intelligence between the two crowns) her Majesty’s neighbourly forces. And so it is true that the action being very just and honourable, her Majesty undertook it, expelled the strangers, and restored the nobility to their degrees, and the state to peace. After, when certain noblemen of Scotland of the same faction of Guise had during the minority of the King possessed themselves of his person, to the end to abuse his authority many ways, and namely to make a breach between Scotland and England, her Majesty’s forces were again, in the year 1573, by the King’s best and truest servants sought and required: which forces of her Majesty prevailed so far as to be possessed of the castle of Edinburgh, the principal piece of that Kingdom; which nevertheless her Majesty incon- tinently with all honour and sincerity restored, after she had put the King into good and faithful hands; and so ever since in all the occasions of intestine troubles, whereunto that nation hath been ever subject, she hath performed unto the King all possible good offi ces, and such as he doth with all good affection acknowledge. The same house of Guise, under colour of alliance, during the reign of Francis II., and by the support and practice of the Queen Mother (who, desiring to retain the regency under her own hands during the minority of Charles IX., used those of Guise as a counterpoise to the Princes of the blood), obtained also great authority in the Kingdom of France; whereupon having raised and moved civil wars, under pretence of religion but indeed to enfeeble and depress the ancient nobility of that realm, the contrary part, being compounded of the blood-royal and the greatest offi cers of the crown, opposed themselves only against their insolency, and to their aids called in her Majesty’s forces, giving them for security the town of Newhaven; which nevertheless when as afterwards, having by the reputation of her Majesty’s confederation made their peace in effect as they would themselves, they would without observing any conditions that had passed have had back again, then indeed it was held by force, and so had been long, but for the great mortality which it pleased God to send amongst our men. After which time so far was her Majesty from seeking to sow or kindle new troubles, as continually by the solicitation of her Ambassadors she still persuaded with the Kings both Charles IX., and Henry III., to keep and observe their edicts of pacifi cation, and to preserve their authority by the union of their subjects; which counsel, if it had been as happily followed as it was prudently and sincerely given, France had been at this day a most fl ourishing Kingdom, which is now a theatre of misery. And now in the end, after that the ambitious practices of the same house of Guise gathering further strength upon the weakness and misgovernment of King Henry III., had grown to that ripeness that the same King was fain to execute the Duke of Guise without ceremony at Blois, and yet nevertheless so many men were embarked and engaged in that conspiracy as the fl ame thereof was nothing assuaged, but contrariwise that King grew so distressed as he was enforced to implore the succours of England; her Majesty, though no way interested in that quarrel nor any way obliged for any good offi cers she had received of that King, accorded the same. Before the arrival of which forces the King being by a sacrilegious Lochithea 179

Jacobine murthered in his camp near Paris, yet they went on, and came in good time for the assistance of the King which now reigneth; the justice of whose quarrel, together with the long continued amity and good intelligence which her Majesty had with him, hath moved her Majesty from time to time to supply him with great aids; and yet she never by any demand urged upon him the putting into her hands of any town or place. So as upon this that hath been said, let the reader judge whether hath been the more just and honourable proceeding and the more free from ambition and passion towards other states, that of Spain or that of England. Now let us examine the proceedings between themselves. Her Majesty, at her coming to the crown, found her realm entangled with the wars of France and Scotland, her mightiest and nearest neighbours; which wars were grounded only upon the Spaniard’s quarrel, but in the pursuit of them had lost England the town of Calais, which from the twenty-fi rst year of King Edward III., had been possessed by the Kings of England. Now there was a meeting near Doulens towards the end of Queen Mary’s reign, between the commissioners of France, Spain, and England; and some overture of peace was made, but broke off upon the article of the restitution of Calais. After Queen Mary’s death, the King of Spain, thinking himself discharged of that diffi culty, though in honour he was no less bound to stand to it than before, renewed the like treaty; wherein her Majesty concurred; so as the commissioners for the mid Princes met at Chasteau Cambraissi, near Cambray. In the proceeding of which treaty, it is true that at the fi rst the commissioners of Spain, for form and in demonstration only, pretended to stand fi rm upon the demand of Calais. But it was discovered indeed that the King’s meaning was, after some ceremonious and perfunctory insisting thereupon, to grow apart to a peace with the French, excluding her Majesty; and so to leave her to make her own peace, after her people had made his wars. Which covert dealing being politically looked into, her Majesty had reason, being newly invested in her Kingdom and of her own inclination being affected to peace, to conclude the same with such conditions as she might. And yet the King of Spain in his dissimulation had so much advantage as she was fain to do it in a treaty apart with the French; whereby to one that is not informed of the counsels and treaties of state as they passed, it should seem to be a voluntary agreement of her Majesty whereto the King of Spain would not be party; whereas indeed he left her no other choice. And this was the fi rst assay or earnest penny of that King’s good affection to her Majesty. About the same time, when the King was solicited to renew such treaties and leagues as had passed between the two crowns of Spain and England by the Lord Cobham, sent unto him to acquaint him with the death of Queen Mary, and afterwards by Sir Thomas Chaloner and Sir Thomas Chamberlain, successively Ambassadors resident in his Low Countries, who had order divers times during their charge to make overtures thereof both unto the King and certain principal persons about him, and lastly, those former motions taking no effect, by Viscount Mountacute and Sir Thomas Chamberlain, sent into Spain in the year 1560; no other answer could be had or obtained of the King, but that the treaties did stand in as good force to all intents as new ratifi cations could make them. An answer strange at that time, but very conformable to his proceedings since; which belike even then were closely hatched in his own breast. For had he not at that time had some hidden alienation of mind and design of an enemy towards her Majesty, so wise a King could 180 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals not be ignorant that the renewing and ratifying of treaties between Princes and states do add greater life and force both of assurance to the parties themselves and countenance and reputation to the world besides, and haves for that cause been commonly and necessarily used and practiced. In the message of Viscount Mountacute it was also contained, that he should crave the King’s counsel and assistance, according to amity and good intelligence, upon a discovery of certain pernicious plots of the house of Guise to annoy the Realm by the way of Scotland. Whereunto the King’s answer was so dark and so cold that nothing could be made of it, till he had made an exposition of it himself by effects, in the express restraint of munition to be carried out of the Low Countries unto the siege of Leith; because our nation was to have supply thereof from thence. So also in all the negotiations that passed with that King, still her Majesty received no satisfaction, but more and more suspicious and hard tokens of evil affection. Soon after, when upon that project which was disclosed before, the King had resolved to disannul the liberties and privileges unto his subjects the Netherlanders anciently belonging, and to establish amongst them a martial government; which the people, being very wealthy and inhabiting towns very strong and defensible by fortifi cations both of nature and the hand, could not endure; there followed the defection and revolt of those countries. In which action, being the greatest of all those which have passed between Spain and England, the proceeding of her Majesty hath been so just and mingled with so many honourable regards, as nothing doth so much clear and acquit her Majesty not only from passion but also from all dishonourable policy. For fi rst, at the beginning of the troubles she did impart unto him faithful and sincere advice of the course that was to be taken for the quieting and appeasing them; and expressly forewarned both himself and such as were in principal charge in those countries during the wars, of the danger likely to ensue if he held so heavy a hand over that people, lest they should cast themselves into the arms of a stranger. But fi nding the King’s mind so exulcerate as he rejected all counsel that tended to mild and gracious proceeding, her Majesty nevertheless gave not over her honourable resolution (which was, if it were possible, to reduce and reconcile those countries unto the obedience of their natural Sovereign the King of Spain; and if that might not be, yet to preserve them from alienating themselves to a foreign lord, as namely unto the French, with whom they much treated and amongst whom the enterprise of Flanders was ever propounded as a mean to unite their own civil dissensions), but patiently temporizing, expected the good effect which time might breed. And whensoever the states grew into extremities of despair and thereby ready to embrace the offer of any foreigner, then would her Majesty yield them some relief of money or permit some supply of forces to go over unto them, to the end to interrupt such violent resolution; and still continue to mediate unto the King some just and honourable capitulations of grace and accord, such as whereby always should have bear, preserved unto him such interest and authority as he in justice could claim, or a prince moderately minded mould seek to have. And this course she held interchangeably, seeking to mitigate the wrath of the King and the despair of the countries, till such time as after the death of the Duke of Anjou (into whose hands, according to her Majesty’s predictions, but against her good liking, they had put themselves), the Lochithea 181 enemy pressing them, the united provinces were received into her Majesty’s protection; which was after such time as the King of Spain had discovered himself not only an implacable lord to them but also a professed enemy unto her Majesty; having actually invaded Ireland, and designed the invasion of England. For it is to be noted that the like offers which were then made unto her Majesty had been made to her long before; but as long as her Majesty conceived any hope either of making their peace or entertaining her own with Spain, she would never hearken thereunto. And yet now even at last her Majesty retained a singular and evident proof to the world of her justice and moderation, in that she refused the inheritance and Sovereignty of those goodly provinces, which by the states with much instance was pressed upon her, and being accepted would have wrought greater contentment and satisfaction both to her people and theirs; being countries for the site, wealth, commodity of traffi c, affection to our nation, obedience of the subjects (well used), most convenient to have been annexed to the crown of England, and with all one charge, danger, and offence of Spain; only took upon her the defense and protection of their liberties; which liberties and privileges are of that nature as they may justly esteem themselves but conditional subjects to the King of Spain, more justly than Arragon; and may make her Majesty as justly esteem the ancient confederacies and treaties with Burgundy to be of force rather with the people and nation than with the line of the Dukes, because it was never an absolute monarchy. So as to sum up her Majesty’s proceedings in this great action, they have been but this, that she hath sought fi rst to restore them to Spain, then to keep them from strangers, and never to purchase them to herself. But during all this time the King of Spain kept one tenor in his proceedings towards her Majesty, breaking forth more and more into injuries and contempts. Her subjects trading into Spain have been many of them burned, some cast into the galleys, others have died in prison, without any other crimes committed, but upon quarrels picked upon them for their religion here at home. Her merchants at the sack of Antwerp were divers of them spoiled and put to their ransoms, though they could not be charged with any part-taking; neither upon the complaint of Doctor Wilson and Sir Edward Horsey could any redress be had. A general arrest was made by the Duke of Alva of Englishmen’s both goods and persons, upon pretence that certain ships stayed in this realm laden with goods and money of certain merchants of Genoa belonged to the King; which money and goods was afterwards to the uttermost value restored and paid back; whereas our men were far from receiving the like justice on their side. Dr. Man, her Majesty’s Ambassador, received during his legation sundry indignities; himself being removed out of Madrill, and lodged in a village, as they are accustomed to use the Ambassadors of the Moors; his son and steward forced to assist at a mass with tapers in their hands; besides sundry other contumelies and reproaches. But the spoiling or damnifying of a merchant, vexation of a common subject, dishonour of an Ambassador, were rather but demonstrations of ill disposition than effects, if they be compared with the actions of state wherein he and his ministers have sought the overthrow of this government. As in the year 1569, when the rebellion in the north part of England brake forth, who but the Duke of Alva, then the King’s lieutenant in the Low Countries, and Don Guerres de Espes, then his Ambassador lieger here, were discovered to be chief instruments and 182 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals practisers; having complotted with the Duke of Norfolk at the same time (as was proved at the said Duke’s condemnation), that an army of ten thousand men should have landed at Harwich in aid of that part which the said Duke had made within the realm; and the said Duke of Alva having spent and employed one hundred and fi fty thousand crowns in that preparation. Not contented thus to have comforted and assisted her Majesty’s rebels in England, he procured a rebellion in Ireland; arming and sending thither in the year 1579 an archrebel of that country, James Fitz Morris, which before was fl ed (as truly to speak, the whole course of molestation which her Majesty hath received in that Realm by the rising and keeping out of the Irish hath been nourished and fomented from Spain). But afterwards most apparently, in the year 1580, he invaded the said Irelands with Spanish forces under an Italian colonel; being but the forerunners of a greater power, which by treaty between him and the Pope should have followed, but that by the speedy defeat of those former they were discouraged to pursue the action; which invasion was proved to be done by the King’s own order, both by the letters of his secretary Escovedo and of Guerres to the King; and also by divers other letters, wherein the particular conferences were set down which passed concerning this enterprise between Cardinal Riario the Pope’s legate, and the King’s deputy in Spain, touching the general, the number of men, the contribution of money, and the manner of prosecuting the action; and by the confession of some of the chiefest of those that were taken prisoners at the fort. Which act being an act of apparent hostility, added unto all the injuries aforesaid, and accompanied with the continual receipt, comfort, and countenance, by audiences, pensions, and employments, which he gave to traitors and fugitives both English and Irish, as Westmoreland, Paget, Englefi eld, Baltinglass, and numbers of others, did suffi ciently justify and warrant that pursuit of revenge, which (either in the spoil of Carthagena and San Domingo in the Indies by Mr. Drake, or in the undertaking the protection of the Low Countries when the Earl of Leicester was sent over) afterwards followed. For before that time her Majesty, though she stood upon her guard, in respect of the just cause of jealousy which the sundry injuries of that King gave her, yet had entered into no offensive action against him. For both the voluntary forces which Don Antonio had collected in this Realm were by express commandment restrained; and offer was made of restitution to the Spanish ambassador of such treasure as had been brought into this Realm, upon proof that it had been taken by wrong; and the Duke of Anjou was (as much as could stand with the near treaty of a marriage which then was very forward between her Majesty and the said Duke) diverted from the enterprise of Flanders. But to conclude this point. When that same years after, the invasion and conquest of this land, intended long before but through many crosses and impediments which the King of Spain found in his plots deferred, was in the year 1588 attempted; her Majesty, not forgetting her own nature, was content at the same instant to treat of a peace; not ignorantly, as a Prince that knew not in what forwardness his preparations were (for she had discovered them long before), nor fearfully, as may appear by the articles whereupon her Majesty in that treaty stood, which were not the demands of a Prince afraid; but only to spare the shedding of Christian blood, and to show her constant desire to make her reign renowned rather by peace than victories. Which peace was on her part treated sincerely, but on his Lochithea 183 part (as it should seem) was but an abuse, thinking thereby to have taken us more unprovided; so that the Duke of Parma, not liking to be used as an instrument in such a case in regard of his particular honour, would sometimes in treating interlace that the King his master meant to make his peace with his sword in his hand. Let it then be tried, upon an indifferent view of the proceedings of England and Spain, as well towards other states as between themselves, who it is that fi sheth in troubled waters, and hath disturbed the peace of Christendom, and hath written and described all his plots in blood. There follow the articles of an universal peace, which the libeller as a commissioner far the Estate of England hath propounded; and are these: First, that the King of Spain should recall such forces as of great compassion to the natural people of France he hath sent thither to defend them against a relapsed Huguenot. Secondly, that he suffer his rebels of Holland and Zealand quietly to possess the places they hold, and to take unto them all the rest of his Low Countries also; conditionally that the English may still keep the possession of such port towns as they have, and have some half- a-dozen more annexed unto them. Thirdly, that the English rovers mought peaceably go to his Indies, and there take away his treasure and his Indies also. And these articles being accorded, he saith, mought follow that peace which passeth all understanding, as he calleth it, in a scurrile and profane mockery of the peace which Christians enjoy with God by the atonement which is made by the blood of Christ, whereof the Apostle saith that it passeth all understanding. But these his articles are sure mistaken and mispenned, and indeed corrected, are briefl y thus: 1. That the King of France be not impeached in reducing his rebels to obedience 2. That the Netherlanders be suffered to enjoy their ancient liberties and privileges, and so forces of strangers to be withdrawn, both English and Spanish 3. That all nations may trade into the East and West Indies; yea discover and occupy such parts as the Spaniard doth not actually possess and are not under civil government, notwithstanding any donation of the Pope

V. Of The Cunning Of The Libel, In Palliation Of His Malicious Invectives Against Her Majesty And The State, With Pretence Of Taxing Only The Actions Of The Lord Burghley. I cannot rightly call this point cunning in the libeller, but rather goodwill to be cunning, without skill indeed or judgment. For ﬁ nding that it had been the usual and ready practice of seditious subjects to plant and bend their invectives and clamours not against the Sovereigns themselves, but against some such as had grace with them and authority under them, he put in err this learning in a wrong and unproper case. For this hath some appearance to cover undutiful invectives, when it is used against favourites or new upstarts 184 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and sudden risen counsellors. But when it shall be practised against one that hath been counselor before her Majesty’s time, and hath continued longer counselor than any other counsellor in Europe; one that must needs have been great if it were but by surviving alone, though he had no other excellency; one that hath passed the degrees of honour with great travail and long time, which quencheth always envy, except it be joined with extreme malice; then it appeareth manifestly to be but a brick wall at tennis to make the defamation and hatred rebound from the counsellor upon the Prince. And assuredly they be very simple to think to abuse the world with those shifts; since every child can tell the fable, that the wolves malice was not to the shepherd but to his dog. It is true that these men have altered their tune twice or thrice. When the match was in treating with the Duke of Anjou, they spake honey as to her Majesty; all the gall was uttered against the Earl of Leicester. But when they had gotten heart upon the expectation of the invasion, they changed style, and disclosed all the venom in the world immediately against her Majesty. What new hope hath made them return to their Sinon’s note in teaching Troy how to save itself, I cannot tell. But in the meantime they do his Lordship much honour; for the more despitefully they inveigh against his Lordship, the more reason hath her Majesty to trust him and the Realm to honour him. It was wont to be a token of scant a good liegeman, when the enemy spoiled the country and left any particular man’s houses or ﬁ elds unwasted.

VI. Certain True General Notes Upon The Actions Of The Lord Burghley. But above all the rest, it is a strange fancy in the libeller that he maketh his Lordship to be the primurn mobile in every action without distinction; that to him her Majesty is accoun- tant of her resolutions; that to him the Earl of Leicester and the secretary Mr. Walsingham, both men of great power and of great will, were but as instruments. Whereas it is well known that, as to her Majesty, there was never counsellor of his Lordship’s long continuance that was so appliable to her Majesty’s princely resolutions; endeavouring always, after faithful propositions and remonstrances (and those in the best words and the most grateful manner), to rest upon such conclusions as her Majesty in her own wisdom determineth, and them to execute to the best; so far hath he been from contestation or drawing her Majesty into any his own courses. And as for the forenamed counsellors and others with whom his Lordship hath consorted in her Majesty’s service, it is rather true that his Lordship, out of the greatness of his experience and wisdom and out of the coldness of his nature, hath qualifi ed generally all hard and extreme courses, as far as the service of her Majesty and the safety of the state and the making himself compatible with those with whom he served would permit; so far hath his Lordship been from inciting others or running a full course with them in that kind. But yet it is more strange that this man should be so absurdly malicious, as he should charge his Lordship not only with all actions of state, but also with all the faults and vices of the times; as, if curiosity and emulation have bred some controversies in the church; though, thanks be to God, they extend but to outward things; if wealth and the cunning of wits have brought forth multitude of suits in law; if excess in pleasures or in magnifi cence, joined with the unfaithfulness of servants and the greediness of moneyed men, have decayed the patrimony of many noblemen and others; that all these and such like conditions of the time should be put on his Lordship’s account; who hath Lochithea 185 been, as far as to his place appertaineth, a most religious and wise moderator in church matters to have unity kept; who with great justice hath dispatched infi nite causes in law that have orderly been brought before him; and for his own example may say that that few men may say, but was sometime said by Cephalus the Athenian, so much renowned in Plato’s works, who having lived near to the age of a hundred years and in continual affairs and business, was wont to say of himself “That he never sued any neither had been sued by any;” who by reason of his offi ce hath preserved many great houses from overthrow by relieving sundry extremities towards such as in their minorities have been circumvented, and towards all such as his Lordship might advise, did ever persuade sober and limited expense; nay to make proof further of his contented manner of life, free from suits and covetousness, as he never sued any man, so did he never raise any rent or put out any tenant of his own, nor ever gave consent to have the like done to any of the Queen’s tenants; matters singularly to be noted in this age. But he that will blame his Lordship for the tales of every novellante and for the vain and fond pamphlets and ballads of every idle fellow that will put news in writing or in print, sometimes upon gain, sometimes upon humour; whereas his Lordship neither hath any charge of the press, neither can his great and weighty business permit him to intend such trifl es; doth show that though the libeller meant to spare no powder, yet surely he shot but at rovers. But however by this fellow, as in a false artifi cial glass which is able to make the best face deformed: his Lordship’s doings be set forth; yet let his proceedings which be indeed his own be indifferently weighed and considered; and let men call to mind that his Lordship was never no violent and transported man in matters of state, but ever respective and moderate; that he was never no vindicative man in his particular, no breaker of necks, no heavy enemy, but ever placable and mild; that he was never no brewer of holy, water in court, no dallier, no abuser, but ever real and certain; that he was never no bearing man nor carrier of causes, but ever gave way to justice and course of law; that he was never no glorious willful proud man, but ever civil and familiar and good to deal withal; that in the course of his service he hath rather sustained the burthen than sought the fruition of honour or profi t, scarcely sparing any time from his cares and travels to the sustentation of his health; that he never had nor sought to have for himself or his children any pennyworth of land or goods that appertained to any person that was attainted of any treason, felony, or otherwise; that he never had or sought any kind of benefi t by any forfeiture to her Majesty; that he was never a factious corn mender of men to her Majesty, as he that intended any ways to besiege her by bringing in men at his devotion, but was ever a true reporter unto her Majesty of every man’s deserts and abilities; that he never took the course to unquiet or offend, no nor exasperate her Majesty, but to content her mind and mitigate her displeasure; that he ever bare himself reverently and without scandal in matters of religion, and without blemish in his private course of life; let men, I say, without passionate malice call to mind these things, and they will think it reason that though he be not canonized for a saint in Rome, yet he is worthily celebrated as pater patriæ in England; and though he be libelled against by fugitives, yet he is prayed for by a multitude of good subjects; and lastly, though he somewhat be envied without just cause whilst he liveth, yet he shall be deeply wanted when he is gone. And assuredly many Princes have had many servants of trust, name, and suffi ciency; but where there have been great parts, there hath often 186 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals wanted temper of affection; where there have been both ability and moderation, there have wanted diligence and love of travail; where all three have been, there have sometimes wanted faith and sincerity; where some few have had all these four, yet they have wanted time and experience; but where there is a concurrence of all these, there it is no marvel though a Prince of judgment be constant in the employment and trust of such a person; of whose faithfulness, as she hath had proof so many years in her own time as it were very hard but, if he had gone about to abuse her, at some time she should have espied it; so to begin withal, he brought with him such a notable evidence of his constant loyalty as a greater could not have been. For to confi rm her Majesty’s opinion in choosing him to be her fi rst counsellor (as he is the only counselor living of those she did use many years from the beginning of her crown), she had cause to do, for that he of all other counselors in King Edward’s time refused to consent to the determination by a pretended will of King Edward’s to deprive the Lady Mary, afterwards Queen, and the then Lady Elizabeth, now Queen; for whose two titles he only of all the then counselors did for conscience sake adhere; to the peril of his head if Queen Mary had not enjoyed the crown. For the which it is well known that Queen Mary did not only reward him, but offered him to have been of her council, which he for good respects did forbear to accept.

VII. Of Divers Particular Untruths And Abuses Dispersed Through The Libel. The order which this man keepeth in his libel is such, as it may easily appear that he meant but to empty some notebook of the matters of England, to bring in (whatsoever came of it) a number of idle jests which he thought mought fl y abroad; and intended nothing less than to clear the matters he handled by the light of order and distinct writing. Having therefore in the principal points, namely the second, third, and fourth articles, ranged his scattered and wandering discourse into some order such as may help and not confound the judgment of the reader, I am now content to gather up some of his by-matters and straggling untruths, and very briefl y to censure them. Pag. 9, he saith that his Lordship could neither by the greatness of his beads, creeping to the cross, nor exterior show of devotion before the high altar, fi nd his entrance into high dignity in Queen Mary’s time. All which is a mere fi ction at pleasure; for Queen Mary bare that respect unto him in regard of his constant standing good for her title, as she desired to continue his service; the refusal whereof growing from his own part, he enjoyed nevertheless all other liberty and favour of the time; save only that it was put into the Queen’s head that it was dangerous to permit him to go beyond the sea, because he had a great wit of action and had served in so principal a place; which nevertheless after, with Cardinal Poole, he was suffered to do. Pag. eadem, he saith Sir Nicholas Bacon, that was Lord Keeper, was a man of exceeding crafty wit. Which showeth that this fellow in his slanders is no good mark-man, but throweth out his words of defacing without all level. For all the world noted Sir Nicholas Bacon to be a man plain, direct, and constant, without all fi neness or doubleness; and one that was of the mind that a man in his private proceedings, and a state in the proceedings of state, should rest upon the soundness and strength of their own courses, and not upon Lochithea 187 practice to circumvent others; according to the sentence of Salomon, Vir prudens advertit ad gressua suos, stultus auten divertit ad dolos; insomuch that the Bishop of Ross, a subtle and observing man, said of him that he could fasten no words upon him, and that it was impossible to come within him, because he offered no play; and Queen Mother of France, a very politic princess, said of him that he should have been of the council of Spain, because he despised the occurrences, and rested upon the fi rst plot. So that if he were crafty it is hard to say who is wise. Pag. 10, he saith that his Lordship, in the establishment of religion in the beginning of the Queen’s time, prescribed a composition of his own invention. Whereas the same form, not fully six years before, had been received in this Realm in King Edward’s time: so as his Lordship, being a Christian politic counsellor, thought it better to follow a precedent than to innovate, and to choose the precedent rather at home than abroad. Pag. 41, he saith that Catholics never attempted to murder any principal person of her Majesty’s court, as did Burchew (whom he calleth a Puritan) in wounding of a gentleman instead of Sir Christopher Hatton; but by their great virtue, modesty, and patience, do manifest in themselves a far different spirit from the other sort. For Burchew, it is certain he was mad; as appeareth not only by his mad mistaking, but by the violence that he offered after to his keeper, and most evidently by his behaviour at his execution. But of Catholics (I mean the traitorous sort of them) a man may say as Cato said sometimes of Cæsar, eum ad evertendam rempublicam sobrium accessisse: they come sober and well advised to their treasons and conspiracies; and commonly they look not so low as the counsellors, but have bent their murderous attempts immediately against her Majesty’s sacred person (which God have in his precious custody); as may appear by the conspiracy of Somervile, Parry, Savage, the Six, and others; nay (which is more) they have defended it in thesi [position] to be a lawful act. Pag. 43, he saith his Lordship (whom he calleth the Archpolitic) hath fraudulently provided that when any priest, is arraigned the indictment is farced with many odious matters. Wherein he showeth great ignorance, if it be not malice; for the law permitteth not the ancient forms of indictments to be altered: like as in an action of trespass, although a man take away another’s goods in the peaceablest manner in the world, yet the writ hath quare vi et amis; and if a man enter upon another’s ground and do no more, the plaintiff mentioneth quad herbam suam ibidem crescentem cum equis, bobus, porcis, et bidentibus, depastus sit, conculcavit et consumpsit. Neither is this any absurdity; for in the practice of all law the formularies have been few and certain, and not varied according to every particular case. And in indictments also of treason it is not so far fetched as in that of trespass; for the law ever presumeth in treason an intention of subverting the state and impeaching the Majesty royal. Pag. 45, and in other places, speaking of the persecuting of Catholics, he still mentioneth bowelling and consuming men’s entrails with fi re; as if this were a new torture devised. Wherein he doth cautelously and maliciously suppress that the law and custom of this land from all antiquity hath ordained that punishment in case of treason, and permitteth no other. And a punishment surely it is, though of great terror, yet by reason of the quick 188 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals dispatching of less torment far than either the wheel or forcipation, yea than simple burning. Pag. 43, he saith England is confederate with the great Turk. Wherein if he mean it became the merchants have an agent in Constantinople, how will he answer for all the Kings of France since Francis I., which were good Catholics; for the Emperor; for the King of Spain himself; for the Senate of Venice; and other states, that have had long time Ambassadors liegers in that court? If he mean it because the Turk hath done some special honour to our Ambassador (if he be so to be termed), we are beholding to the King of Spain for that; for that the honour we have won upon him by opposition hath given us reputation through the world. If he mean it because the Turk seemeth to affect us for the abolishing of images, let him consider then what a scandal the matter of images hath been in the church, as having been one of the principal branches whereby Mahumetism entered. Pag. 65, he saith Cardinal Allen was of late very near to have been elected Pope; whereby he would put the Catholics here in some hope that once within fi ve or six years (for a Pope commonly sitteth no longer) he may obtain that which he missed narrowly. That is a direct abuse; for it is certain in all the conclaves since Sixtus Quintus, who gave him his hat, he was never in possibility; nay the King of Spain, that hath patronized the church of Rome so long as he is become a right patron of it, in that he seeketh to present to that see whom he liketh, yet never durst strain his credit to so desperate a point as once to make a canvass for him; no, he never nominated him in his inclusive nomination. And those that know anything of respects of conclaves, know that he is not papable; fi rst, because he is an ultramontane, of which sort there hath been none these fi fty years; next, because he is a cardinal of alms of Spain, and wholly at the devotion of that King; thirdly, because he is like to employ the treasure and favours of the Popedom upon the enterprises of England, and the relief and advancement of English fugitives, his necessitous countrymen. So as he presumed much upon the simplicity of the reader in this point, as in many more. Pag. 55, and again 70, he saith his Lordship intendeth to match his grandchild Mr. William Cecil with the Lady Arbella. Which being a mere imagination without any circumstance at all to induce it, more than that they are both unmarried and that their years agree well, needeth no answer. It is true that his Lordship, being no stoical unnatural man, but loving towards his children (for charitas reipublicæ incipit a familia), hath been glad to match them into honourable and good blood; and yet not so but a private gentleman of Northamptonshire, that lived altogether in the country, was able to bestow his daughter higher than his Lordship hath done; but yet it is not seen by anything past that his Lordship ever thought or affected to match his children in the blood-royal. His Lordship’s wisdom, which hath been so long of gathering, teacheth him to leave to his posterity rather surety than danger. And I marvel where be the combinations which have been with great men, and the popular and plausible courses which ever accompany such designs as the libeller speaketh of. And therefore this match is but like unto that which the same fellows concluded between the same Lady Arbella and the Earl of Leicester’s son, when he was but a twelvemonth old. Lochithea 189

Pag. 70, he saith he laboureth incessantly with the Queen to make his eldest son deputy of Ireland. As if that were such a catch, considering all the deputies since her Majesty’s time, except the Earl of Sussex and the Lord Grey, have been persons of meaner degree than Sir Thomas Cecil is; and the most that is gotten by that place is but the saving and putting up of a man’s own revenues during those years that he serveth there; and this perhaps to be sauced with some displeasure at his return. Pag. eadem, he saith he hath brought in his second son to be of the council, who hath neither wit nor experience. Which speech is as notorious an untruth as is in all the libel; for it is confessed by all men that know the gentleman, that he hath one of the rarest and most excellent wits of England; with a singular delivery and application of the same, whether it be to use a continued speech, or to negotiate, or to couch in writing, or to make report, or discreetly to consider of the circumstances, or aptly to draw things to a point; and all this joined with a very good nature and a great respect to all men, as is daily more and more revealed. And for his experience, it is easy to think that his training and helps hath made it already such as many that have served long prentishood for it have not attained the like. So as if that be true, that qui beneﬁ cium digno dat omnes obligat, not his father only but the state is bound unto her Majesty for the choice and employment of so sufﬁ cient and worthy a gentleman. There be many other follies and absurdities in the book; which if an eloquent scholar had it in hand, he would take advantage thereof, and justly make the author not only odious but ridiculous and contemptible to the world. But I pass them over; and even this which hath been said hath been vouchsafed to the value and worth of the matter and not the worth of the writer, who hath handled a theme above his compass.

VIII. Of The Height Of Impudency That These Men Are Grown Unto In Publishing And Avouching Untruths, With A Particular Recital Of Some Of Them For An Assay. These men are grown to a singular spirit and faculty in lying and abusing the world; such as it seemeth, although they are to purchase a particular dispensation for all other sins, yet they have a dispensation dormant to lie for the Catholic cause; which moveth me to give the reader a taste of their untruths, especially such as are wittily contrived, and are not merely gross and palpable; desiring him out of their own writings (when any shall fall into his hands) to increase the roll at least in his own memory. We retain in our calendars no other holy days but such as have their memorials in the Scriptures; and therefore in the honour of the blessed Virgin, we only receive the feasts of the Annunciation and the Purifi cation; omitting the other of the conception and the nativity; which nativity was used to be celebrated upon the seventh of September, the vigil whereof happened to be the nativity of our Queen; which though we keep not holy, yet we use therein certain civil customs of joy and gratulation, as ringing of bells, bonfi res, and such-like, and likewise make a memorial of the same day in our calendar; whereupon they have published that we have expunged the nativity of the blessed Virgin, and put instead 190 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals thereof the nativity of our Queen; and further, that we sing certain hymns unto her, used to have been sung unto our Lady. It happened that upon some bloodshed in the church of Paul’s, according to the canon law yet with us in force, the said church was interdicted, and so the gates shut up for some few days; whereupon they published that, because the same church is a place where people use to meet to walk and confer, the Queen’s Majesty, after the manner of the ancient tyrants, had forbidden all assemblies and meetings of people together, and for that reason upon; extreme jealousy did cause Paul’s gates to be shut up. The gate of London called Ludgate, being in decay, was pulled down and built anew; and on the one side was set up the image of Lud and his two sons, who, according to the name, was thought to be the fi rst founder of that gate, and on the other side the image of her Majesty, in whose time it was re- edifi ed; whereupon they published that her Majesty, after all the images of the saints were long since beaten down, had now at last set up her own image upon the principal gate of London to be adored, and that all men were forced to do reverence to it as they passed by, and a watch there placed for that purpose. Mr. Jewel, the Bishop of Salisbury, who according to his life died most godly and patiently, at the point of death used the versicle of the psalm, O Lord, in Thee have I put my trust, let me never be confounded; whereupon, suppressing the rest, they published that the principal champion of the heretics (in his very last words) cried he was confounded. In the act of recognition of primo, whereby the right of the crown is acknowledged by Parliament to be in her Majesty (the like whereof was used in Queen Mary’s time), the words of limitation are, in the Queen’s Majesty and the natural heirs of her body, and her lawful successors. Upon which word, natural, they do maliciously and indeed villainously close, that it was the intention of the Parliament in a cloud to convey the crown to any issue of her Majesty’s that were illegitimate; whereas the word heir doth with us so necessarily and pregnantly import lawfulness, as it had been indecorum and uncivil speaking of the issues of a Prince to have expressed it. They set forth in the year a book with tables and pictures of the persecutions against Catholics, wherein they have not only taken stories of fi fty years old to supply their pages, but also taken all the persecutions of the primitive church under the heathen, and translated them to the practice of England; as that of wor- rying priests under the skins of bears by dogs, and the like. I conclude then that I know not what to make of this excess in avouching untruths, save this, that they may truly chant in their quires, Linguam nostram magnifi cabimus, labia nostra nobis sunt: and that they who have long agone forsaken the truth of God, which is the touchstone, must now hold by the whetstone; and that their ancient pillar of lying wonders being decayed, they must now hold by lying slanders, and make their libels successors to their legend. Finis.

Affright people with the very mention of death: the plague gasps London but not dispersed into any other part of the Realms as is noted. Accommodated to my subject, little bladders of quicksilver, or tablets of arsenic, as preservatives ’gainst the plague: as hath anciently been received, for Pericles the Athenian used it; not as they conceive, for Lochithea 191 any comfort they yield to the spirits, but for that being poisons themselves, they draw the venom to them from the spirits.32 Theatres close; public playhouses seal; the Societies of Gray’s Inn and the Inner Temple take to St Albans to organise their Autumn pensions; uncle Burghley’s tongue wags at a poem entitled Venus and Adonis, which is henceforth dedicated to Henry Wriothesley, third Earl of Southampton,33 member of Gray’s Inn, to whom uncle Burghley is guardian. Thomas Nashe also tastes the full spring of the Earl’s liberality. Alas! Nashe doth not retain his Lordship’s favour:

The Choice of Valentines by Thomas Nashe Pardon, sweet ﬂ ower of matchless poetry, And fairest bud the red rose ever bare; Although my Muse, devours from deeper care, Presents thee with a wanton elegy. Ne blame my verse of loose unchastity For painting forth the things that hidden are, Since all men act what I in speech declare, Only induced with variety. Complaints and praises every one can write, And passion out their pangs in stately rhymes; But of loves pleasures none did ever write, That have succeeded in these latter times Accept of it, dear Lord, in gentle gee, And better lines, ere long, shall honour thee.

Uncle Burghley clearly stateth, that Bishop White-Gift is framed of all particulars, for his authority is needed for this poem to see the prints.34 Uncle Burghley hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs. How should God deal with us? Good days we cannot bear, evil we cannot endure. Gives He riches unto us, then we are proud, so that no man can live by us in peace; nay, we will be carried on heads and shoulders, and will be adored as gods. Gives He poverty to us, then are we dismayed, impatient, and murmur ’gainst Him.35

32 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century x. (970) (b) Mercurialis’ De Venenis et Morbis vene- nosis, ii. 9, 1583 33 Henry Wriothesley (1573–1624) became a privy councillor in 1619 but fell into disgrace through his determined opposition to the royal favourite, the Duke of Buckingham. In 1624 he and his elder son volunteered to ﬁ ght for the United Provinces against Spain, but on landing in the Netherlands they were attacked with fever, and Southampton died a few days after the death of his son—Encyclopaedia Britannica 34 Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) 35 The World’s Greatest Books, vol x 192 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

And so much for more faults than wealth. John Somerscales, butler at Gray’s Inn, hath gone stark mad; he is sent to Bethlehem hospital (Bedlam) at the expense of the Society. I arrange for the keeping of Somerscales to a Mr. Parrett, keeper at the hospital.36 My thoughts aim at a further matter: Henri IV., makes his triumphal entry into Paris, on a grey horse; he wears a gold-embroidered grey habit, his face with pride and smiles, saluting with his plume-crowned hat the cheering crowds; he mounteth the throne of France37 as I mount my seat in the House of Commons38 for Middlesex next to Coke, who is Speaker; Cecil, who leads for the Crown; Raleigh and Vere, Cousin Fulke Greville, John Fortescue, Lawrence Hyde, Henry Yelverton, Edward Dyer, and Henry Montagu: all rival speakers and solicitors to whom I force on a topic of reform. Walter Raleigh methinks, hath some sick offense within his mind. “Call you this, Mr. Francis Bacon, par jugum, when a poor man pays as much as a rich?” Words that have been so nimble, and so full of subtle fl ame, as if that every one from whom they came had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, and to consume my confi dence.39 Raleigh’s continuance nibbles my ears: “’Tis to wit: the Earl of Salisbury, is an excellent speaker, but no good penman; the Earl of Northampton, is an excellent pen-man, but no good speaker. Alas! Francis Bacon is eminent in both.” My statement in the House of Commons be of laws and make to guard the rights of the people, not to feed the solicitors; and that laws should be read by all, known to all; I disagree with the Bill of high taxes that now enforce. I propound three questions, which I desire mought be answered: the fi rst, impossibility or diffi culty; the second, danger and discontentment; the third, a better manner of supply. For impossibility, the poor men’s rent is such as they are not able to yield it. The gentlemen must sell their plate, and farmers their brass pots, ere this will be paid; and as for us, we are here to search the wounds of the Realm, and not to skin them over. We shall breed discontentment in paying these subsidies, and endanger her Majesty’s safety, which must consist more in the love of the people than in their wealth. This being granted, other prices hereafter will look for the like, so that we shall put an evil precedent on our posterity and ourselves.40

36 See Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) in chapter entitled Shakespeare’s Connection with the Inns of Court, p. 3 regarding Lord Bacon’s fi nancial accounts and reference of Bethlehem hospital 37 Thornton Hall: Love affairs of the Courts of Europe 38 Alfred Dodd: Francis Bacon’s Personal Life Story, 1946 refl ects amongst other questions of this term on “How did he [Bacon] pay his election expenses? Nor has any surprise been expressed respecting his source of income. Spedding states, “In 1592, I do not fi nd him getting into practice.” How, then, did he live? How get into the Commons? Who provided him with food and raiment? Who paid his lodgings at Gray’s Inn? Who provided his casual out-of-pocket expenses?” 39 Charles Kingsley: Sir Walter Raleigh and his time, 1890 40 Taken from D’Ewes Journal, 1593. Sir Simonds D’Ewes (1602–1650) Bart., English antiquarian, eldest son of Paul D’Ewes of Milden, Suffolk, and of Cecilia, daughter and heir of Richard Simonds, of Coaxdon or Coxden, Dorsetshire, educated at the grammar school of Bury St. Edmunds, and at St. John’s College, Cambridge. He had been admitted to the Middle Temple in 1611, and was called to the bar in 1623, when he immediately began his collections of Lochithea 193

Of this much that displeases her Majesty, the consequence is loss of royal favour as so did befall my father in his times. Should I have not wagged my tongue with such statements, I do not wish to speculate that I would have been favoured for Solicitor-General. I do not apologize for my conduct about the subsidy, and will not be moved from my constitutional position.41 I compel government to meet my proposal half-way on these taxes and to extend the period proposed to a year inserting a clause in the Bill declaring that the money is given solely for the war ’gainst Spain. But the memory of past evils is sweet42 and so my speech, found offensive, mostly by uncle Burghley, allows my letter to him, to obtaineth nothing by it, either for him self or his fellow citizens:43

It May Please Your Lordship. I was sorry to fi nd by your Lordship’s speech yesterday that my last speech in Parliament, delivered in the discharge of my conscience and duty to God, her Majesty, and my country was offensive. If it were misreported, I would be glad to attend your Lordship to disavow anything I said not. If it were misconstrued I would be glad to expound my self, to exclude any sense I meant not. If my heart be misjudged by imputation of popularity or opposition by any envious or offi cious informer, I have great wrong; and the greater, because the manner of my speech did most evidently shew that I spake simply; and only to satisfy my conscience, and not with any advantage or policy to sway the cause; and my terms carried all signifi cation of duty and zeal towards her Majesty and her service. It is true that from the beginning, whatsoever was above a double subsidy, I did wish might, for precedent sake, appear to be extraordinary; and, for discontents sake, mought not have been levied upon the poorer sort; though otherwise I wished it as rising as I think this will prove, and more. This was my mind, I confess it. And therefore I most humbly pray to your good Lordship; fi rst, to continue me in your own good opinion; and then, to perform the part of an honourable friend towards your poor servant and alliance, in drawing her Majesty to

material and his studies in history and antiquities. His Journals of all the Parliaments during the Reign of Queen Elizabeth, however, a valuable work, was published in 1682. His large collections, including transcripts from ancient records, many of the originals of which are now dispersed or destroyed, are in the Harleian collection in the British Museum. His unprinted Diaries from 1621–24 and from 1643–47, the latter valuable for the notes of proceedings in Parliament, are often the only authority for incidents and speeches during that period, and are amusing from the glimpses the diarist affords of his own character, his good estimation of himself and his little jealousies; some are in a cipher and some in Latin. Extracts from his Autobiography and Correspondence from the manuscripts in the British Museum were published by J. O. Halliwell- Phillips in 1845, by Hearne in the appendix to his Historia vitae et regni Ricardi II., (1729), and in the Bibliotheca topographica Britannica, no. xv vol. vi (1783); and from a diary of later date, College Life in the Time of James I., (1851). His diaries have been extensively drawn upon by Forster, Gardiner, and by Sanford in his Studies of the Great Rebellion. Some of his speeches have been reprinted in the Harleian Miscellany and in the Somers Tracts—Wikimedia Org 41 G.T.B: Lord Bacon’s Essays, Biographical Introduction, 1894 42 Euripides, in Cicero, De Finib., ii. 32 43 Resuscitatio, 1657 194 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals accept of the sincerity and simplicity of my heart, and to bear with the rest and restore me to her Majesty’s favour. Fra. Bacon.

I do not let the matter stand; a writ leaveth for the Lord Keeper Puckering:

My Lord. It is a great grief to me, joined with marvel, that her Majesty should retain an hard conceit of my speeches in Parliament. It mought please her sacred Majesty to think what my end should be in those speeches, if it were not duty and duty alone. I am not so simple but I know the common beaten was to please. And whereas popularity hath been objected, I muse what care should I take to please many that taketh a course of life to deal with few. On the other side, Her Majesty’s grace and particular favour towards me hath been such, as I esteem no worldly thing above the comfort to enjoy it, except it be the conscience to deserve it, but if the not seconding of some particular person’s opinion shall be presumption, and to differ upon the manner shall be to impeach the end, it shall teach my devotion not to exceed wishes, and those in silence. Yet notwithstanding—to speak vainly as in grief—it may be her Majesty hath discouraged as good a heart as ever looked toward her service, and as void of self-love. And so in more grief than I can well express, and more than I can well dissemble, I leave your Lordship, being as ever, your Lordship’s entirely devoted. Fra. Bacon.

The gout44 claws and gnarls at me. Dr. Rawley offers some solace with mineral baths; the body, when it is put into the bath, cannot get down so easily as in ordinary water. But it seemeth the weight of the quicksilver more than the weight of a stone, doth not com- pense the weight of a stone more than the weight of the aqua fortis. Indeed I remember a physician here in England, a famous practitioner, in religion almost a Jew, in reading a kind of Arab, who used to say, “Your physicians in Europe are indeed men of learning; but they do not know the particular cures for disease.” He would also say in jest, not very reverently, “that our physicians are like Bishops, who have the power of the keys, to bind and loose, and nothing more.” But to speak seriously; I conceive that it would be of great use if some physicians, among the more distinguished both for learning and practice, would compose a work on medicines tried and approved by experiment for the cure of particular diseases. In divers ways mine usual receipt for the gout be:45

44 Inﬂ ammation of the joints 45 (a) Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century viii. (790); century i. (60) (b) Francis Bacon: The Advancement of Learning, book iv. chapter i Lochithea 195

1. The poultice. Of manchet about three ounces, the crumb only, thin cut. Let it be boiled in milk till it grow to a pulp. Add in the end a dram and a half of the powder of red roses. Of saffron ten grains. Of oil of roses an ounce. Let it be spread upon a linen cloth, and applied luke-warm; and continued for three hours space. 2. The bath or fomentation. Of sage-leaves half an handful. Of the root of hemlock sliced six drams. Of briony-roots half an ounce. Of the leaves of red roses two pugils. Let them be boiled in a bottle of water, wherein steel hath been quenched, till the liquor come to a quart. After the straining, put in half an handful of bay-salt. Let it be used with scarlet cloth, or scarlet wool, dipped in the liquor hot, and so renewed seven times; all in the space of a quarter of an hour, or little more. 3. The plaister. Emplastrum diacalciteos, as much as is suffi cient for the part you mean to cover. Let it be dissolved with oil of roses, in such a consistence as will stick; and spread upon a piece of holland, and applied. And this I add further, being before brimful of grief, the least addition overfl owed the bounds of all patience; I hold argument within the Star Chamber; neither profi t nor peril shall move me to speak ’gainst my conscience in this place. Hence my writ to her Majesty:

Madam. Remembering that your Majesty had been gracious to me both in countenancing me and conferring upon me the reversion of a good place, and perceiving your Majesty hath taken some displeasure toward me, both these were arguments to move me to offer unto your Majesty my service, to the end to have means to deserve your benefi t and to repair my error. Upon this ground I affected myself to no great matter, but only a place of my profession, such as I do see divers younger in proceeding to myself, and men of no great note, do without blame aspire to. But if any of my friends do press this matter, I do assure your Majesty my spirit is not with them. It suffi ceth that I have let your Majesty know that I am ready to do that for your service, which I would never do for mine own gain. And if your Majesty like others better, I shall with the Lacedemonians be glad that there is such choice of abler men than myself. Your Majesty’s favour indeed, and access to your royal person, I did ever, encourage by your own speeches, seek and desire; and I would be very glad to be reintegrate in that. But I will not wrong my own good mind so much as to stand upon it now, when your Majesty must conceive I do it but to make my profi t of it. But my mind turns upon other wheels than those of profi t. The conclusion shall be that I wish your Majesty served answerable to yourself; thus I humbly crave pardon of my boldness and plainness. God preserve your Majesty. Fra. Bacon. 196 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

A sea of debts, that neither Anthony nor I can relinquish from.46 Anthony receives a letter from mother: “I could willingly hear of Barly proceedings; for your state of want of health and of money, and some other things touching you both, gives me no quiet.” I writ back to her a fortnight later: “My duty most humbly remembered. I assure myself that your Ladyship, as a wise and kind mother to us both, will neither fi nd it strange nor unwise, that tendering fi rst my brother’s health, which I know by mine own experience to depend not a little upon a free mind, and then his credit, I presume to put your Ladyship in remembrance of your motherly offer to him the same day you departed, which was that to help him out of debt you would be content to bestow your whole interest in marks upon him. The which unless it would please your Ladyship to accomplish out of hand, I have just case to feat that my brother will be put to a very shrewd plunge, either to forfeit his reversion to Harwin or else to undersell it very much; for the avoiding of both which great inconveniences I see not other remedy than your Ladyship surrender in time, the formal draft whereof I refer to my brother himself, whom I have not any way as yet made acquainted with this my motion, neither mean to do till I hear from you, with a care of clearing his particular estate. Touching myself, my diet, I thank God, hitherto hath wrought good effect, and am advised to continue this whole month, not meddling with any purgative physic more than I must needs, which will be but a trifl e during my whole diet; and so I most humbly take my leave.” Live triumphing over as many ages as we will, dearest Reader, death still will remain eternal: my good friend and poet, Kit Marlowe, loses his life at Deptford, the Isle of Dogs, where a play is associated with its region to be later banned and lost from literature wits. A quarrel betwixt Kit and an Ingram Frizer for the payment of the bill and their accom- modation at an Inn, be the cause. Among the witnesses of this incident are Nicholas Skeres, Robert Poley and an Innkeeper, Mrs. Ealeanor Bull. O fl esh, fl esh, how art thou fi shifi ed!47 Is it not that Death mixes and confounds itself throughout with life; decay anticipates its hour, and shoulders itself even into the course of our advance. I have portraits of myself taken at fi ve-and-twenty and fi ve-and-thirty years of age. I compare them with that lately drawn: how many times is it no longer me; how much more is my present image unlike the former, than unlike my dying one? It is too much to abuse nature, to make her trot so far that she must be forced to leave us, and abandon our conduct, our eyes, teeth, legs, and all the rest to the mercy of a foreign and haggard countenance, and to resign us into the hands of art, being weary of following us herself.48 As Socrates told Crito, it concerns me not what is done with me when I am dead; I care not so long as I feel it not; let them set mine head on the pike of Tenerife, and my quarters in the four parts of the world, let wolves or bears devour me; the canopy of heaven covers

46 The only reasonable answer to Alfred Dodd’s questions respecting Lord Bacon’s source of income 47 Kit’s death, at the age of twenty-nine, left the Elizabethan stage of literature without any equal for poets and dramatists. According to the author, M.J. Trow, a new biography on Shakespeare by G. O’Conner William Shakespeare, a Popular Life (2000) Shakespeare visited Kit’s body to bid his respects “for which there is no evidence whatsoever.”—See M.J. Trow: Who killed Kit Marlowe? 2001 48 Extract from Michel Eyquem de Montaigne’s Essays, 1685 Lochithea 197 him that hath no tomb.49 Be content when that cruel death, without all security given for the release of his imprisonment shall carry me away; my life has in this line some right of a poet’s ownership, which as a reminder shall still stay with you. When you shall read this, analyse the very part, which was devoted to you. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, which is your burial; my soul is yours, the better part of me. Therefore, being dead, the prey of worms; that knife of that worthless person is too based by you to be remembered. The spirit of the body is of real value, and that is of what this poem is about and this with three remains.50 Kit carrieth his portmanteau containing ofﬁ cial secret papers as Anthony doeth. Should this portmanteau be found, where Kit had last lodged, and then much upset shall command the Queen’s Court. As the days pass, and the case of Kit’s death sinks into the vaults of secrets under Robert Cecil’s judicial webbed keys, Ingram Frizer is acquitted of any charge of murder, except that of self defence and is set free;51 no matter cometh of Kit’s enigmatic portmanteau.

Massacre at Paris by Christopher Marlowe Final scene xxii Sound Drum and Trumpets, and enter the King of France, and Navarre, Epernoune, Bartus, Pleshe and Soldiers. KING. Brother of Navarre, I sorrow much, That ever I was proved your enemy, And that the sweet and princely mind you bear, Was ever troubled with injurious wars: I vow as I am lawful King of France, To recompense your reconciled love, With all the honours and affections, That ever I vouchsafe my dearest friends. NAVARRE. It is enough if that Navarre may be Esteemed faithful to the King of France: Whose service he may still command to death.

49 Robert Burton: The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1653 50 “Nashe, Lyly, Greene, as well as Peele and Marlowe, were all “Masks” more or less for Francis Bacon’s anonymous writings. We can thus well understand why Gabriel Harvey in Pierce’s Supererogation said that: “Nashe,” “Lyle” and “Greene” were three faces in one hood, and that they were a three-headed Cerberus.” And on p. 231 “Queen Elizabeth, Francis Bacon, and Robert the Earl, there was an understanding between the “Three.”—See Alfred Dodd: Francis Bacon’s Personal Life Story, 1946 51 “If a man kill another in his own defence, he shall not lose his life nor his lands; but he doth lose his goods, except the party slain did ﬁ rst assault him, to kill or trouble him by the highway side, or in his own house; and then he shall lose nothing.”—Francis Bacon: The Use of the Laws 198 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

KING. Thanks to my Kingly Brother of Navarre. Then there we’ll lie before Lutetia’s walls, Girting this strumpet City with our siege, Till surfeiting with our afﬂ icting arms, She cast her hateful stomach to the earth. Enter a Messenger. MESSENGER. And it please your Majesty here is a Friar of the order of the Jacobins, sent from the President of Paris, that craves access unto your grace. KING. Let him come in. Enter Friar with a Letter. EPERNOUNE. I like not this Friar’s look. ‘T’were not amiss my Lord, if he were searched. KING. Sweet Epernoune, our Friars are holy men, And will not offer violence to their King, For all the wealth and treasure of the world. Friar, thou dost acknowledge me thy King? FRIER. I my good Lord, and will die therein. KING. Then come thou near, and tell what news thou bringest. FRIER. My Lord, The President of Paris greets your grace, And sends his duty by these speedy lines, Humbly craving your gracious reply. KING. I’ll read them Friar, and then I’ll answer thee. FRIER. Sanct Jacobus, now have mercy on me. He stabs the King with a knife as he readeth the letter, and then the King getteth the knife and kills him. EPERNOUNE. O my Lord, let him live a while. KING. No, let the villain die, and feel in hell, Just torments for his treachery. NAVARRE. What, is your highness hurt? KING. Yes Navarre, but not to death I hope. NAVARRE. God shield your grace from such a sodaine death: Go call a surgeon hither strait. Lochithea 199

[Exit attendant.] KING. What irreligious Pagans parts be these, Of such as horde them of the holy church? Take hence that damned villain from my sight. [Exeunt attendants with body] EPERNOUNE. Ah, had your highness let him live, We might have punished him for his deserts. KING. Sweet Epernoune all Rebels under heaven, Shall take example by his punishment, How they bear arms against their sovereign. Go call the English Agent hither strait, I’ll send my sister England news of this, And give her warning of her treacherous foes. [Enter Surgeon.] NAVARRE. Pleaseth your grace to let the Surgeon search your wound. KING. The wound I warrant you is deep my Lord, Search Surgeon and resolve me what thou seest. The Surgeon searcheth. Enter the English Agent. KING. Agent for England, send thy mistress word, What this detested Jacobin hath done. Tell her for all this that I hope to live, Which if I do, the Papal Monarch goes To wrack, an antichristian Kingdom falls. These bloody hands shall tear his triple Crown, And ﬁ re accursed Rome about his ears. I’ll ﬁ re his erased buildings and incense The papal towers to kiss the holy earth. Navarre, give me thy hand, I here do swear, To ruinate this wicked Church of Rome, That hatcheth up such bloody practices. And here protest eternal love to thee, And to the Queen of England especially, Whom God hath blest for hating Popery. NAVARRE. These words revive my thoughts and comfort me, To see your highness in this virtuous mind. KING. Tell me Surgeon, shall I live? 200 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

SURGEON. Alas my Lord, the wound is dangerous, For you are stricken with a poisoned knife. KING. A poisoned knife? What, shall the French King die, Wounded and poisoned, both at once? EPERNOUNE. O that that damned villain were alive again, That we might torture him with some new found death. BARTUS. He died a death too good, the devil of hell Torture his wicked sole. KING. Oh curse him not since he is dead. O the fatal poison works within my breast, Tell me Surgeon and ﬂ atter not, may I live? SURGEON. Alas my Lord, your highness cannot live. NAVARRE. Surgeon, why saist thou so? The King may live. KING. Oh no Navarre, thou must be King of France. NAVARRE. Long may you live, and still be King of France. EPERNOUNE. Or else die Epernoune. KING. Sweet Epernoune thy King must die. My Lords, Fight in the quarrel of this valiant Prince, For he is your lawful King and my next heir: Valoyses line ends in my tragedy. Now let the house of Bourbon wear the crown, And may it never end in blood as mine hath done. Weep not sweet Navarre, but revenge my death. Ah Epernoune, is this thy love to me? Henry thy King wipes of these childish tears, And bids thee wet thy sword on Sextus bones, That it may keenly slice the Catholics. He loves me not the best that sheds most tears, But he that makes most lavish of his blood. Fire Paris where these treacherous rebels lurk. I die Navarre, come bear me to my Sepulchre. Salute the Queen of England in my name, And tell her Henry dies her faithful friend. He dies. NAVARRE. Come Lords, take up the body of the King, That we may see it honourably interred: And then I vow so to revenge his death, Lochithea 201

That Rome and all those popish Prelates there, Shall curse the time that ere Navarre was King, And rule in France by Henry’s fatal death. They march out with the body of the King, lying on four men’s shoulders with a dead march, drawing weapons on the ground.

A mere sickness relinquishes my pleasures for the whole summer. Mother writes to Anthony that Goodman Grinnell, of Barly, cometh that morning hither very sad upon a speech he hath heard that Anthony were about to let his farm to another, yet hopeth better, both for his promise and the receipt of some money upon it. Fourteen years benumbs my faculties of my service at the Bard. The Attorney seat is vacant; Egerton, who had the position, hath risen to a higher state. I am not so deceived in my self, but that I know very well, that in practising the law, I play not my best game, which maketh me accept it with a nisi quid potius; as the best of my fortune, and a thing better agreeable to better gifts than mine, but not to mine.52 I can only speculate that my loss of this position, which goes to Thomas Fleming, may have been due to my acquaintance with Essex, by the thrusty hand of Coke, and to my disagreement of the Bill of taxes. Well saith Cicero, I remember what I would not; but I cannot forget what I would. I scribble to Mr. Spencer, a moneylender: “Mr. Spencer. Having understood by my man your kind offer to send my brother and me our old bond, we both accept the same with hearty thanks, and pray you to cause a new to be made for half a year more, which I will both sign and seal before one Booth, a scrivener, here at Isleworth, and deliver it him to your use, which you know will be as good in law as though you were here present. True it is that I cannot promise that my brother should be here at that time to join with me, by reason of his daily attendance in Court, by occasion whereof I am to be your sole debtor in the new bond. As for the mesne profi ts thereof, you will receive them presently. I have given charge to my man to deliver it. And so with my right hearty commendations from my brother and myself, with like thanks for your good will and kindness towards us, which we always shall be ready to acknowledge when and wherein we may, I commit you to the protection of the Almighty. Your assured loving friend.” And a writ to Lady Paulet; such a kind and generous woman that existeth in my life: “Being not able myself, by reason of my long languishing infi rmity, to render unto your Ladyship by a personal visitation the respect I owe unto your Ladyship, I would not fail to acquit some part of my debt by sending this bearer, my servant, expressly to know how your Ladyship doth, which I beseech God may be no worse than I wish and have just cause to wish, considering your Ladyship’s ancient and especial kindness towards me. Which if I have not hitherto acknowledged it hath been only for want of fi t occasions, but no way of dutiful affection, as I hope in time, with God’s help, I shall be able to very by good effects towards the young gentleman Mr. Blount, your nephew, or any other that appertains unto your Ladyship. This is, good madam, much less than you deserve and yet all I can offer, which, notwithstanding, I hope you will accept, not that it is aught worth of itself, but in respect of the unfeigned good will from whence it proceedeth. And so, with your humble

52 Baconiana, 1679 202 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and right hearty commendations unto your good Ladyship, I beseech God to bless you with increase of comfort in mind and body, and admit you to his holy protection. Your Ladyship’s assured and ready in all kind affection to do you service.” Here, I must and will ever acknowledge Essex’ love, trust and favour towards me, last of all his liberality, having infested me of land which I sold for eighteen hundred pounds to Master Reynold Nicholas, and I think was more worth, and that at such a time, and with so kind and noble circumstances, the manner was as much as the matter. Since I had been denied solicitor’s place by the Queen and lost it to Fleming, Essex comes to me from Richmond to Twickenham Park, and discusses with me, and saith “Mr. Bacon, the Queen has denied me the place for you, and has placed another; I know you are the least part of your own matter, but you fare ill, because you have chosen me for your mean and dependence: you have spent your time and thoughts in my matters; I die if I do not somewhat towards your fortune, you shall not deny to accept a piece of land,53 which I will bestow upon you.” My answer is that for my fortune it is no great matter: but that his Lordship’s offer had me call to mind what was to be said when I was in France of the Duke of Guise, that he was the greatest usurer in France, because he had turned all his estate into obligations; meaning that he had left himself nothing, but only had bound numbers of persons to him.54 But, if you will work on any man, you must either know his nature and fashions, and so lead him; or his ends, and so persuade him; or his weaknesses and disadvantages, and so awe him; or those that have interest in him, and so govern him.55 But even for that point of estate and means, I partly lean to Thales’ opinion, that a philosopher may be rich if he will. Thus you seeth how I comfort my self; but without any such high conceit, I esteem it like the pulling out of an aching tooth, which, I remember, when I was a child, and had little philosophy, I was glad of when it was done. I do think my self more beholding to Essex than to any man. And I say, I reckon myself as a common (not popular but common); and as much as is lawful to be enclosed of a common, so much his Lordship shall be sure to have.56 I reside for some time at Twickenham Park. Mother forwards little money of which I thank her: “Madam, I received this afternoon at the Court your letter, after I had sent back your horse and written to you this morning. And for my brother’s kindness, it is accustomed; he never having yet refused his security for me, as I, on the other side, never made any difﬁ culty to do the like by him, according to our several occasions. And therefore, if it be not to his own disfurnishing, which I reckon all one with mine own want, I shall receive good ease by that hundred pounds; specially your Ladyship of your goodness being content it shall be repaid of Mr. Boldroe’s debt, which it pleased you to bestow upon me.

53 According to Thomas Bushel, (a “menial servant” of Lord Bacon) Essex “bestowed Twickenham Park, and its Garden of Paradise, as a place for his studies” when receiving a gift that was “a secret curiosity of nature, whereby to know the season of every hour of the year, by a philosophical glass, placed with a small proportion of water in a chamber.” In later times, “it seems so large a piece [of land], that he [Bacon] under-sold it for no less than eighteen hundred pounds.”—Baconiana, 1679 54 Extracts from The Apology of Francis Bacon 55 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 56 R.W. Church: English Men Of Letters, 1894 Lochithea 203

And my desire is, it shall be paid to Robert Knight at Gray’s Inn, who shall receive order from me to pay two ﬁ fths (which I wish had been two hundred) where I owe, and where it presseth the most. Sir John Fortescue is not yet in Court; both to him and otherwise I will be mindful of Mr. Downing’s cause and liberty with the ﬁ rst opportunity. Mr. Neville, my cousin, though I be further distant than I expected, yet I shall have an apt occasion to remember. To my cousin Kemp I am sending. But that would rest between your Ladyship and my self, as you said. Thus I commend your Ladyship to God’s good providence. Your Ladyship’s most obedient son.” In continuance, mother writes to Anthony: “Be slow in speaking and promising, lest you repent when it is too late. Commend me to your brother. Look well to your house and servants. Fear late and night roads, now towards winter.” Her advice that Anthony be cautious in promises and to think before he talk, is sound; I doubt Anthony cares, for he continuously marvels upon the great things he shall do with Essex; I knoweth however, that Anthony is striving on my behalf for the Attorney-General position to Essex:57

Mr. Bacon. I have broken promise by necessity and not for negligence. I spake largely with the Queen on Saturday in the evening, and forced myself to get up this morning because the Queen on Saturday told me she would resolve this today. But ere I could get from the Queen to my chamber, pain so possessed my head and stomach, as I was sent to my bed, where I have remained ever since. On Saturday the Queen kindly accepted your promise to come to her, and as she said her self, sorrowed for your sickness, which arrested you on the way. She used many words, which showed her opinion of your worth and desire to know you better. She was content to hear me lead for your brother, but condemned my judgement in thinking him ﬁ ttest to be Attorney whom his own uncle did name but to a second place; and said that the sole exception against Mr Coke was stronger against your brother, which was youth. Your offers and my mingling of arguments of merit with affection moved somewhat, but she referred me over till today. Today I found her stiff in her opinion that she would have her own way. Whereupon I grew more earnest than ever I did before, insomuch as she told me that she would be advised by those that had more judgement in these things than myself. I replied so she might be, and yet it would be more for her service to hear me than to hear them; for my speech had truth and zeal to her without private ends. I am full of pain and can write no more. I wish to you as to myself, and am your most assured friend. Essex. Postscript: Burn this.

I am hastened to peruse a will of uncle Burghley, to which I do, with report to Aunt Coke from Windsor Castle regarding it: “Madam. I had spoken a good while since with my Lord Treasurer, whose Lordship took pains to peruse the will which I had with me, and in conversation was of opinion that, if the younger children wanted reasonable allowance, it should be supplied, and the other parties to be stored for their advancement.”

57 See Daphne du Maurier: Golden Lads, 1975 204 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Sir Thomas Coningsby requests my lookings upon a case whereas this gentleman, Mr. Nicholas Trot, one to whom, besides familiar acquaintance, I am much beholden, hath conveyed unto him for his money a lease of the pretend of Withington, under the title of Mr. Heyghton, that was sometimes of the counsel of the Marches. It may well appear that all aim is to pass time at ease: Anthony wishes to spend the Christmas holidays in St Albans of which I duly announce to my mother from Twickenham Park:

Madam. I most humbly thank your Ladyship for your letter and sending your man Bashawe to visit me, who purposeth with God’s help so soon as possibly I can to do my duty to your Ladyship, but the soonest I doubt will be to-morrow or next Monday come sennight. My brother, I think, will go to Saint Albans sooner, with my Lord Keeper, who hath kindly offered him room in his obscure lodgings there, as he hath already resigned unto him the use of his chamber in Court. God forbid that your Ladyship should trouble yourself with any extraordinary care in respect of our presence, which if we thought should be the least cause of your discontentment; we would rather absent ourselves than occasion any way your Ladyship disquietness. As for Sotheram, I have been and shall be always ready to hear dutifully your Ladyship’s motherly admonitions touching him or any other man or matter, and to respect them, as I ought. And so, with remembrance of my humble duties, I beseech God to bless and preserve your Ladyship. Fra. Bacon.

Festivities not far, I take leisure to write to Sir Francis Allen from Hampton Court regarding some recommendation of Anthony’s, and I do so much favour this gentleman, Mr. Garret, who from my praise entered a course of following the wars; in regard whereof, understanding of the nomination and appearance of employment in Ireland, he conceiveth it will be some establishment to him if he may receive favour. I wished him to use me but as a mean of my brother’s commendation, which I esteemed to be of extraordinary weight with Sir Francis Allen. For the holidays I travel and stay at Edborne; my brother taunts me continuously with his matters, where the New Year ﬁ nds him in Bishopsgate amongst the actors: Richard Burbage and the Lord Chamberlain’s Men. I write again to Sir Francis Allen protesting unto him with a sincerity very present to the merit of his own, touching me without prejudice, that the scanty link of German consanguinity should never have prevailed so far with me as to have once moved me to have given my clear consent to my brother for such his request or recommendation. Prior the Honourable Order of the Knights of the Helmet to perform, which consisteth betwixt Francis Davison and Thomas Campion in a Masque of Proteus before her Majesty at Greenwich Palace, Shrovetide, I receiveth a letter from Sir Thomas Heneage:58

58 Francis Davison: Poetical Rhapsody, 1602 Lochithea 205

Henry Prince Of Purpoole To The Right Honourable Sir Most Honourable Knight, have now accomplished a most tedious and hazardous journey, though very honourable, into Russia; and returning within the view of the Court of your renowned Queen, my gracious Sovereign, to whom I acknowledge homage and service, I thought good, in passing by, to kiss her sacred hands, as a tender of the zeal and duty I owe unto her Majesty; but, in making the offer, I found my desire was greater than the ability of my body; which, by length of my journey, and my sickness at sea, is so weakened, as it were very dangerous for me to adventure it. Therefore, most honourable friend, let me intreat you to make my humble excuse to her Majesty for this present: and to certify her Highness, that I do hope, by the assistance of the Divine Providence, to recover my former strength about Shrovetide; at which time I intend to repair to her Majesty’s Court (if it may stand with her gracious pleasure) to offer my service, and relate the success of my journey. And so praying your honour to return me her Majesty’s answer, I wish you all honour and happiness. From shipboard, at our Ark of Vanity. Thomas Heneage.

And the Head and Fellows of Trinity College, Cambridge, of writ to uncle Burghley to borrow the Robes in the Tower of London, to wear in a Tragedy to be acted by us:59

The Head and Fellows of Trinity College, Cambridge, to Lord Burghley Our bounden dutie in most humble wise remembred. Whereas we intend for the exercise of yonge gentlemen and scholers in our Colledge, to sett forth certain Comoedies and one Tragcedie. There being in that Tragcedie sondry personages of greatest astate, to be represented in auncient princely attire, which is no where to be had but within the Offi ce of the Roabes at the Tower, it is our humble request your most honorable Lordship would be pleased to graunte your Lopiships Warrant unto the chiefe Offi cers there, that upon suffi cient securitie we might be furnished fi om thence with such meete necessaries as are required. Which favor we have founde heretofore upon your good Lordship’s like honorable Warrant: that hath the rather enbouldened us at this time. And so cravinge pardon for this presumption, with remembrance of our dayly prayere unto God for the preservation of your Honor’s health to his owne greate glory we humbly take our leave. From Trinitie Colledge in Cambridge, 28 Of Januarij 1594. Your Honor’s most bounden ever to be commaunded THOMAS NEVILE. GEORGE LEE. JER. BADCLIFFE. JOHN SLEDD. JRE. MILVEn.

59 From Henry Ellis’ Original Letters, Illustrative of English History, Volume iii, Harding, Triphook, and Lepard, MDCCCXV 206 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

GULI: HALL. SAMUEL HERON. CUTHBEBT NORRIS.

To the right honorable our verie singuler good Lord Burghley, Lord High Treasurer of England. The Heart 1595 (96) of the age thirty-four to 1599 of the age thirty-eight

If a man look sharply and attentively, he shall see fortune; for though she is blind, she is not invisible —Francis Bacon

Fortune is painted blind, with a mufﬂ er afore her eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is blind —William Shakespeare

Anthony continueth to serve Essex in a capacity of receiving all Essex’ letters, which are mostly in cipher; in the fi rst instance, forwarding them to me then I to Essex, deciphered and accompanied with their joint suggestions; and then, according to the instructions thereupon returned, framed and dispatched with answers.1 For this humungous work to be accomplished, I conceive a Verulamian Workmanship2 that doth deal with these laborious writings. Isaac Gruter shall later refer on my Verulamian Workmanship to Dr. Rawley, my secretary and executor, “if my fate would permit me to live according to my wishes, I would fl y over into England, that I might behold whatsoever remaineth, in your cabinet, of the Verulamian Workmanship, and at least make my eyes witnessed of it, if the possession of the merchandise be yet denied to the public. At present I will support the wishes of my impatient desire, with hope of seeing, one day, those which being committed to faithful privacy, wait the time till they may safely see the light, and not be stifl ed in their birth.” I go towards Finchley to take the air. There had been growing not long before a pretty shady wood. It was missing: I turneth to a country fellow, “Stay, I have not lost my thoughts in a wood, but methinks I miss a wood here.” The fellow saith that it is newly cut down. Sure he was but a churl that ought it, to cut down a wood of great pleasure and to reap but small profi t into his purse. Then I heareth that it was the Bishop of London!3

1 Spedding: Life, vol. i. p. 250-1 2 Baconiana, 1679 3 Bishop Aylmer, probably; who died in 1594—James Spedding

207 208 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

O, was it he: he is a learned man: it seems this was an obscure place before, and the Bishop hath expounded the text.4 Now Co-Treasurer of Gray’s Inn and in plead of my fi rst case in the King’s Bench, the argument in Chudleigh’s case, as I recall, of which I am paid. Sir Richard Chidley, being seized in fee of a manor whereof the land in question was parcel, infeoffed Sir G.S. and others to the use of himself and the heirs of his body by sundry wives, remainder to the use of the fore fees and their heirs during the life of Christopher Chidley his eldest son, remainder in tail to the fi rst, second, third, and so to the tenth son of the said Christopher Chidley, remainder to the other sons of the said Richard. The case being of great importance, touching the Queen in her prerogative and the subjects in their assurances, is on the side which I argue notably declared by Mr. Attorney General, Edward Coke, who, foreseeing the downfall and destruction of the uses which have so long reigned, maketh a history of their lives and so ripped them up from their cradle, demonstrating that they were engendered in fraud and deceit, and manifesting the notes and discredits which sundry good laws from time to time have infl icted on them. Which course I do not intend to follow. And in confutation I will not bind myself to Coke’s order, but pursue my own course, which is the order that matter itself more aptly induces for resolution and decision.5 I am to appear in two more cases, of which a young solicitor of the name Mr. Harry Gosnold, being present, left this following report: “That Francis Bacon, retains his reputation gained, is not strange to any that know him. That he hath increased it, is not incredible. The absence of the Lords that were looked for was recompensed with a presence of Learned Judges, and seemed an Assembly rather capable than honourable. The respect they gave him was extraordinary, was well-noted but not envied. The attention of the rest, springing from an experience of good and an expectation of better, could not be better. His argument, contracted by the time, seemed a bataille serrée, as hard to be discovered as conquered. The unusual words wherewith he had spangled his speech, were rather gracious for their propriety than strange for their novelty, and like to serve both for occasions to report and means to remember his argument. Certain sentences of his, somewhat obscure, and as it were presuming upon their capacities will, I fear, make some of them rather admire than commend him. In sum, all is as well as words can make it, and if it please her Majesty to add deeds, the Bacon may be too hard for the Cook.”6 Another minor case of Essex gives me appearance in Westminster Hall on behalf of the claim of a Sir Thomas Perrot, a husband to one of Essex’ sisters; Perrot claims of being heir to the deceased Lord Cheyney.7 Essex, in the meantime, hath discovered some plot ’gainst her Majesty: her physician, Lopez, has attempted to kill her. The Queen cannot fathom this accusation; Robert Cecil cannot fathom this accusation; but Essex is persistent that Lopez is under the infl uence of the King of Spain; he has the proof; he has the witnesses. To Anthony, he saith: “I have discovered a most dangerous and desperate treason.

4 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 5 Spedding: Works, vol. xv. p. 159 6 Baconiana, 1679 7 See Lyon and Block’s Edward Coke Oracle of the Law; p. 79, 1929 Lochithea 209

The point of conspiracy was her Majesty’s death. The executioner should have been Dr. Lopez; the manner poison. This I have so followed, as I will make it clear as noonday.” Essex begs I form some report ’gainst this physician, should the case come to trial; and so the entitled, A True Report of the Detestable Treason intended by Doctor Roderigo Lopez leaves my quill. Lopez is arrested, confesses, retracts his confession but confesses again. His story is that he had dealt with a Spaniard, who had offered a rich jewel and promise of 50.000 ducats to poison her Majesty; he had told his employers that he would exhibit the poison to the Queen in a syrup; whereas it was well known (he said) that she never used syrups in her diet, but had an especial dislike to them. But when it clearly appeared that in showing that jewel to the Queen he had made no mention whatever of poison, but had merely asked her in a dark manner whether it were lawful to meet deceit with deceit as snare with snare (by which however the Queen, as a wise and cautious woman, was not caught, but replied that she by no means approved of it), and when moreover it was given in evidence that he had seriously thought of taking fl ight and betake himself to a kinsman of his own race, one Solomon a Jew, who lived at Constantinople and was very rich, and that he had had a purpose so to do, his impostor’s mask fell off, leaving the traitor’s behind, as was fi t. Lopez is found guilty of high treason at Guildhall and hanged.8 Should it be called immaturity or believability, Essex hath promised me that the Queen would offer me a position as her Solicitor. I humbly note to him on forwarding her a small gift, as was the custom of the time. His reply be: “The Queen did yesternight fl y the gift, and I do wish, it be no impediment to the cause you do handle to-morrow, you did attend again this afternoon. I will be at the Court in the evening, and go with Mr. Vice-Chamberlain, so as, if you fail before we come in, yet afterwards I doubt not by he or I shall bring you together. This I write in haste because I would have no opportunity omitted in point of access. I have since had opportunity to deal freely with the Queen. I have dealt confi dently with her; as of a matter wherein I did more labour to overcome her delays than that I did fear her denial. I told her how much you were thrown down with the correction she had already given you; that she might in that point hold herself already satisfi ed. I fi nd the Queen very reserved, staying herself from giving any hope, yet not passionate against you till I grow passionate for you. Then she said that none thought you fi t for the place but my Lord Treasurer and myself. I urged her that though she could not signify her mind to others, I might have a secret promise; wherein I should receive great comfort, as in the contrary great unkindness. She said she neither was persuaded nor would hear of it till Easter. And therefore in passion bade me go to bed, if would talk of nothing else. Wherefore in passion I went away, saying while I was with her I could not but solicit from the cause and the man I so much affected, and therefore I would retire myself till I might be more graciously heard. And so we parted. To-morrow I will go hence of purpose,

8 (a) Daphne du Maurier: Golden Lads, 1975 (b) Spedding: Works, vol. xii. p. 55 with additions and corrections by Francis Bacon on William Camden’s Annals. In 1953, an alleged conspiracy of prominent Soviet medical specialists to murder leading government and party ofﬁ cials was unravelled; the prevailing opinion of many scholars outside the Soviet Union is that Joseph Stalin intended to use the resulting doctors’ trial to launch a massive party purge. Nikita S. Khrushchev revealed that Stalin had intended to include members of the Politburo in the list of victims of the planned purge 210 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and will write an expostulating letter to her. I will be here again, and follow on the same course, stirring a discontentment in her.” I cannot but answer thus:9

It May Please Your Good Lordship. I am very sorry her Majesty should take my motion to travail in offence. But surely, under her Majesty’s royal correction, it is such an offence as it should be an offence to the sun, when a man to avoid the scorching heat thereof, ﬂ yeth into the shade. And your Lordship may easily think that having now these twenty years, (for so long it is and more since I went with Sir Amyas Paulet, into France, from her Majesty’s royal hand,) I made her Majesty’s service the scope of my life: I shall never ﬁ nd a greater grief than this, relin- quere amorem primum. But since principia ætionum, funt tantum, in nostra potestate; I hope, her Majesty, of her clemency, yea and justice will pardon me, and to force me to pine here with melancholy. For though mine heart be good, yet mine eyes will be sore; so as I shall have no pleasure to look abroad, and if I should otherwise be affected, her Majesty, in her wisdom, will but think me, an impudent man that would face out a disgrace. Therefore, as I have ever found you my good Lord, and true friend, so I pray open to matter so to her Majesty as she may discern the necessity of it, without adding hard conceit to her rejection; of which I am sure that latter I never deserved. Thus, &c., Fra. Bacon.

Alas! A black letter of advertisement from Knightsbridge to the honourable Council: they beseech the honours Excellency’s Canton of Knightsbridge where do haunt certain foreigners that seize upon all passengers, taking from them by force their goods, under pretence, that, being merchant strangers, and using trafﬁ c into his Highness’ territories of Clerkenwell, Islington, and elsewhere, they have been robbed of their goods, spoiled of their wares; whereby they were utterly undone: and that his honour, of his good will, hath been pleased to grant them letters of reprisal, to recover their loss of them that come nest to their hands: by colour whereof, they lay hold of all that pass by, without respect. Some of their names, as I understand, are, Johannes Shagbag, Robertus Untruss, James Rapax, (alias Capaxs.)”10 The Queen go well content and leaveth for Greenwich to where I also travel, but have no success in seeing her. I write to Lord Keeper Puckering from Greenwich, that I am wished to be here ready in expectation of some good effect; and therefore I commend my fortune to his Lordship’s kind and honourable furtherance. If he consider my nature, my course, my friends, my opinion with her Majesty, I hope he will think I am no unlike piece of wood to shape him a true servant of. A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears, drip from eyes upon Cousin Fulke Greville’s note that it pleased her Majesty withal to tell of the

9 William Rawley, in Resuscitatio published 1657, comments that this letter “I ﬁ nd not in his Lordship’s register book, of letters; but I am induced by the style and other characters to own them to be his.” 10 See Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) Lochithea 211 jewel I offered her by Mr. Vice-Chamberlain, which she had refused, yet with exceeding praise. But either he deceives him self, or she is resolved to take it; and the conclusion is very kind and gracious. One hundred pounds to ﬁ fty, he says, I shall be her Solicitor. Not further away, the children of her Majesty’s Chapel organize the play The Tragedy of Dido Queen of Carthage writ by Kit Marlowe and Thomas Nashe: What can my tears or cries prevail me now? Dido is dead, Jarbus slain, Jarbus my dear love, O sweet Jarbus, Anna’s sole delight, what fatal destiny envies me thus, to see my sweet Jarbus slay himself? But Anna now shall honour thee in death, and mix her blood with thine, this shall I do, that gods and men may pity this my death, and rue our ends senseless of life or breath; now sweet Jarbus stay, I come to thee. Some business follows in my hands with Sir Thomas Lucy, eldest son of Justice Shallow:11

Sir. There was no news, better welcome to me, this long time, than that, of the good success, of my kinsman; wherein, if he be happy, he cannot be happy alone, it consisting of two parts. And I render you, no less kind thanks, for your aid, and favour, towards him, than if it had been for my self; assuring you, that this bond of alliance, shall, on my part, tie me, to give all the tribute, to your good fortune, upon all occasions, that my poor strength can yield. I send you, so required, an abstract, of the lands of inheritance; and one lease of great value, which my kinsman bringeth; with a note, of the tenures, values, contents, and state, truly, and perfectly drawn; whereby you may perceive, the land is good land, and well countenanced by scope of acres, woods, and royalties; though the total of the rents, be set down, as it now goeth without improvement: in which respect, it may somewhat differ from your ﬁ rst note. Out of this, what he will assure in jointure, I leave it, to his own kindness, for I love not to measure affection. To conclude, I doubt not your daughter, mought have married, to a better living, but never to a better life; having chosen a gentleman, bred to all honesty, virtue, and worth with an estate convenient. And if my brother, or my self, were either thrivers, or fortunate, in the Queen’s service, I would hope there should be left as great an house of the Cokes, in this gentleman as in your good friend, Mr. Attorney- General. But sure I am, if Scriptures fail not, it will have as much of God’s blessing; and sufﬁ ciency, is ever the best feast, &c. Fra. Bacon.

Of my travail, her Majesty still doth not accept to see me; I write to Robert Cecil from Gray’s Inn to assess the matter:

11 Critics call him “Shakespeare’s Justice Shallow” who drove Shakespeare from Stratford for breaking into his park and stealing his deer. Also see Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921. William Rawley, in Resuscitatio published 1657, comments that this letter “I ﬁ nd not in his Lordship’s register book, of letters; but I am induced by the style and other characters to own them to be his.” 212 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

My Most Honourable Good Cousin. Your honour in your wisdom doth well perceive that my access at this time is grown desperate in regard of the hard terms that as well the Earl of Essex as Mr. Vice-Chamberlain, who were to have been the means thereof, stand in with her in acceding to their occasion. And therefore I am now only to fall upon that point of delaying and presenting the matter entire till a better constellation, which, as it is not hard, as I conceive, considering the proving business and instant progress &c., so I commend in special to your honour’s care, who in sort assured me thereof, and upon now in my Lord of Essex’ absence I have only to rely. And if it be needful, I humbly pray you to move my Lord your father to lay his sure hand to the same delay. And so I wish you all increase of honour. Your poor kinsman in faithful prayers and duty. Fra. Bacon.

Cecil taketh time to write back on the same sheet in the top corner: “Cousin. I do think nothing cuts the throat more of your present access that the Earl’s being somewhat troubled at this time. For the delaying, I think it not hard; neither shall there want my best endeavours to make it easy, of which I hope you shall not need to doubt. By judgement, which I gather of divers circumstances conﬁ rming my opinion, I protest I suffer with you in mind that you are thus yet gravelled; but time will founder all your competitors and set you on your feet, or else I have little understanding.” All that can be saith is that the owl shrieked at thy birth, an evil sign; the night-crow cried, abiding luckless time; dogs howled and hideous tempest shook down trees: the raven roofed her on the chimney top, and chattering pies in dismal discords sung: thy mother felt more than a mother’s pain, and yet brought forth less than a mother’s hope. To wit an indigested and deformed lump, not like the fruit of such a goodly tree. Down, down to hell, and say I sent thee thither. I have lived longer by this one day than I should have done. Essex bombards my wits with more letters:

My Lord. I wrote you not till I had a second conference with the Queen because the ﬁ rst was spent only in compliments. This day she hath seen me again. I told her I had written Sir Robert Cecil to solicit her to call you to that place which all the world had named you to. Her answer in playing jest was that she came not to me for that; I should talk of those things when I came to her, not when she came to me. I would have replied but she stopped my mouth. To-morrow or the next day I will go to her. Your most affectionate friend. Essex.

My Lord. I went yesterday to the Queen through the galleries in the morning, afternoon and night. I had long speech of her with you. I urged. She would do this one thing for my sake. She did acknowledge you had a great wit, and an excellent gift of speech, and much other good Lochithea 213 learning. But in law she rather thought you could make show to the uttermost of your knowledge, than that you were deep. She has shown her mislike of the suit as well as I had done my affection in it; and that if there were a yielding, it was ﬁ tter to be of my side. I added her Majesty had made me suffer, which all I should bear with patience, if she would but grant my humble suit in this one, and that my sad heart had need of hasty comfort. I wish you all happiness and rest. Your most affectionate friend. Essex.

Henry Helmes, gent, of Rougham, Norfolk, Master of the Revels Prince of Purpoole is admitted to Gray’s Inn. It hath been known, since 1525, that the gentlemen of Gray’s Inn commend Christmas with a Lord of Misrule; whereas Court men nobly scribble their own plays and perform them. After many consultations had hereupon by the youths and others that were most forward herein, at length, with the consent and assistance of the readers and ancients, it was determined, that there should be elected a Prince of Purpoole, to govern the Inn’s state for the time; which was intended to be for the credit of Gray’s Inn, and rather to be performed by witty inventions than chargeable expenses. Whereupon, they presently made choice of Mr. Henry Holmes, a Norfolk gentleman, who was thought to be accomplished with all good parts, fi t for so great a dignity; and was also a very proper man of personage, and very active in dancing and revelling.12 Betwixt these toys, I hear and see of my mother in worries and of ill health: she be so full of back-pain when I came hither, that her memory be very slippery. She forget the mention of rents and had not received Frank’s last half-year of Midsummer, the fi rst half so long unpaid. She complaineth how I will mar my tenants if I suffer them. Mr. Brocquet is suffered by Anthony to cosen her and beguile her without check. I fear I came too late to London for my horse: ever do I regard them. She desire Mr. Trot to hearken to some honest man, and cook too as he may. If I can hear of a convenient place I shall be willing if it so please God; for Lawson will draw Anthony wherever he chooses, as she really fear, and that with false semblance. She sendeth pigeons taken this day, and let blood and hears that Robert Knight is but sickly that she sorries for it. Her advice to look very well to my health; sup not, nor sit up late, surely she think my drinking to bedwards hindereth mine and Anthony’s digestion very much, and never knew any but sickly-that used it, besides being ill for heads and eyes. Observe well, yet in time, and by troth Reader, should she have uttered the words that I rise to play, and go to bed to work, she would still have me beyond my wits as to how she knoweth my habits. A woman’s preaching, is like a dog’s walking on his hind legs. It is not done well but you are surprised to fi nd it done at all.13 I write to console her and also of what cometh regarding the Essex promise and of Cecil’s reply:

12 See Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) 13 Samuel Johnson 214 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Dear Madam. My humble duty remembered, I was sorry to understand by Goodman Sotheram that your Ladyship did ﬁ nd any weakness, which I hope was but caused by the season and weather, which waxeth more hot and faint. I was not sorry, I assure your Ladyship, that you came not up, in regard that the stirring at this time of year, and the place where you should lie not being very open nor fresh, might rather hurt than otherwise. And for anything to be passed to Mr. Trot, such is his kindness, as he demandeth it not; and therefore, as I am to thank your Ladyship for your willingness, so it shall not be needful but upon such an occasion as may be without your trouble, which the rather may be cause I purpose, God willing, to come down, and it be but for a day, to visit you, and to do my duty to you. In the meantime I pray your health, as you have done the part of a good Christian saint of God, which hath use of you, but that you enter not into further conceit than is cause; and withal use all comfort and helps that are good for your health and strength. In truth I have heard Sir Thomas Scudamore often complain after his quartain had ceased, that be found such a heaviness and swelling under his ribs that he thought he was buried under earth all from the waist; and therefore that accident no bad incident. Thus I commend your Ladyship to God’s good preservation from grief. Fra. Bacon.—Postscript: It may be I shall have occasion, because nothing is yet done in the choice of a Solicitor, to visit the Court this vacation, which I have not now done this month’s time, in which respect, because having sent to and fro spoileth it; I would be glad of that light bed of stripes which your Ladyship hath, if you have not otherwise disposed it.

And that is my ﬁ rm belief; Essex hath demanded too much on the Queen, since her mind is made up not to forward me the position that he so promised me. The following dialogue is said to have passed between Essex and Sir Robert Cecil, as they were about this time travelling together in the same coach:14

Cecil: My Lord, the Queen has determined to appoint an Attorney General without more delay. I pray your Lordship let me know whom you will favour. Essex: I wonder at your question. You cannot but know that resolutely, against all the world, I stand for your cousin, Francis Bacon. Cecil: I wonder your Lordship should spend your strength on so unlikely a matter. Can you name one precedent of so raw a youth promoted to so great a place? Essex: I have made no search for precedents of young men who have fi lled the offi ce of Attorney General. But I could name to you, Sir Robert, a man younger than Francis, less learned, and equally inexperienced, who is suing and striving with all his might for an offi ce of far greater weight. Cecil: I hope my abilities, such as they are, may be equal to the place of Secretary, and my father’s long services may deserve such a mark of gratitude from the Queen. But although

14 (a) Lord Campbell: The Life of Lord Bacon, 1853 (b) Lord Macaulay: Francis Bacon, 1886 Lochithea 215 her Majesty can hardly stomach one so inexperienced being made her Attorney, if he would be contented with solicitor’s place, it might be of easier digestion to her. Essex: Digest me no digestions. The Attorneyship for Francis is that I must have; and in that I will spend all my power, might, authority, and amity; and with tooth and nail procure the same for him against whosoever; and whosoever getteth this offi ce out of my hands for any other, before he have it, it shall cost him the coming by. And this be you assured of, Sir Robert, for now I fully declare myself; and for my own part, Sir Robert, I think strange both of my Lord Treasurer and you, that can have the mind to seek the pref- erence of a stranger before so near a kinsman; for if you weigh in balance the parts every way of his competitor and him, only excepting fi ve poor years of admitting to a House of Court before Francis, you shall fi nd in all other respects whatsoever no comparison between them.

Should there be foundation for the above account, there be a thread of accuracy that keepeth my wonder; for the ofﬁ ce of Attorney General doth not remain vacant for a single day: Egerton appointed Master of the Rolls; Coke appointed Attorney General. I may not contemplate that my obstacle to concern me is of my unlucky yet gallant speech ’gainst the taxes; so be it! I leave this spoiled matter in London, and depart for a northern journey, but arrive only up to Huntingdon, but am attacked by my sensitive illness,15 which maketh it impossible for me to travel further. I inform her Majesty of my settling at Huntingdon:

Most Gracious And Admirable Sovereign. As I do acknowledge a providence of God towards me that ﬁ ndeth it expedient for me tolerare jugum in juventute meā, so this present arrest of me by his divine Majesty from your Majesty’s service, is not the least afﬂ iction that I have proved: and I hope your Majesty doth conceive that nothing under mere impossibility could have detained me from earning so gracious a vail as it pleased your Majesty to give me. But your Majesty’s service by the grace of God shall take no lack thereby, and thanks to God, it hath light upon him, that may be best spared, only the discomfort is mine; when nevertheless have the private comfort that in the time I have been made acquainted with this service it hath been my hap to stumble upon somewhat unseen, which may import the same, as I made my Lord Keeper acquainted before my going. So leaving it to God to make a good ending of a hard beginning, and most humbly craving your Majesty’s pardon for presuming to trouble your Majesty, I recommend your sacred Majesty to God’s tenderest preservation. From Huntingdon, your sacred Majesty’s, in most humble obedience and devotion. Fra. Bacon.

15 James Spedding notes that “the nature of the complaint may be partly inferred from a letter from Nicholas Trott to Lady Bacon, written in Latin,” and is to be found at Harl. MSS. 871.80. Spedding gives its contents in Latin where there is a Greek word haemorrhoids, being the disease marked by swellings in the veins of the lower rectum 216 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

On being close to Cambridge, I make use this opportunity and take my degree of Master of Arts,16 which is conferred upon me in a special congregation; the usual exercises and ceremonies being dispensed with, my other concern is of debts that pressure my writ to Mr. Skinner. His kind affection makes me so bold as most earnestly to request from him to pleasure me with the loan of fi ve hundred pounds for a year. I then hasten a letter to Anthony to repay a debt: “Brother. My Cousin Coke is some four days home, and appoints towards Italy that day sennight. I pray take care for the money to be paid over within four or fi ve days. The sum you will remember is £150. I hear nothing from the Court in mine own business. There hath been a defeat of some force in Ireland by Macguire, which troubleth the Queen, being unaccustomed to such news; and there upon the opportunity is alleged to be lost to move her. But there is an answer by the coming in of the Earl of Tyrone as was expected. I steal to Twickenham, purposing to return this night; else I had visited you as I came from the town. Thus in haste I leave you to God’s preservation. Your entire loving brother.” There is an abuse to some acquaintance of mine of which I forward a letter to Mr. Young from Gray’s Inn to look into the matter, for I shall desire his friendly pains in the repairing and punishing of an outrage offered by one Thomas Lewys, dwelling near Whitechapel, upon a French gentleman of very good quality and honourable, and my special acquaintance, and upon his company, not in terms alone, but in very furious assailing them; the French gentleman’s name is Mr. Corugues, and his bearer shall relate the particularities of the abuse. With cloak on one shoulder, my cap on one side, and a stocking disordered, I receiveth from mother £10 borrowed from of our neighbours. She be sorry that Anthony and I charge ourselves with superfl uous horses. The wise will but laugh at us both; being but trouble, besides our debts, long journeys, and private persons. Earls be Earls and festivities be festivities; and so in humbleness and gratitude, two letters to Essex are sent with caution on his steps that are advancing away from her Majesty’s likening and likewise matters of Coke offered the Attorney General offi ce:17

My Singular Good Lord. I will no longer dissever part of that, which I meant to have said to your Lordship at Barnhelms from the exordium, which I then made. Whereunto I will only add this: that I humbly desire your Lordship, before you give access to my advice, to look about, even jealously a little, if you will, and to consider: ﬁ rst, whether I have not reason to think that your fortune comprehendeth mine; next, whether I shift my counsel and do not constare nibi; for I am persuaded there are some would give you the same counsel now, which I shall, but that they should derogate from that which they have said heretofore; thirdly, whether you have taken hurt, at any time, by my careful and devoted counsel. Or although I remember well, your Lordship once told me, that you having submitted upon my well

16 Blackbourne, vol. i. p. 217 17 William Rawley, in Resuscitatio published 1657, comments that these letters “I fi nd not in his Lordship’s register book, of letters; but I am induced by the style and other characters to own them to be his.” Lochithea 217 motion, at Nonesuch, (the place where you renewed a treaty with her Majesty of obsequious kindness,) she had taken advantage of it, yet I suppose you do since believe that it did much attemper a cold malignant humour, then growing upon her Majesty toward your Lordship, and hath done you good in consequence. And for my being against it, now lately, that you should not estrange your self, although I give place to none in true gratulation; yet neither do I repent me of safe counsel, neither do I judge of the whole play by the fi rst act. But whether I counsel you the best, or for the best, duty bindeth me to offer to you my wishes. I said to your Lordship last time: Martha, Martha, attendis ad plurima, unum suffi cit. Win the Queen; if this be not the beginning, of any other course, I see no end. And I will not now speak of favour of affection, but of other correspondence and agreeableness; which, whensoever it shall be conjoined with the other of affection, I durst wager my life, (let them make what prosopopæas [faces] they will, of her Majesty’s nature;) that in you, she will come to the question of: Quid siet homini, quem Rex vult honorare? [What shall be done to the man whom the King delighteth to honour?] But how is it now? A man of nature not to be ruled; that hath the advantage of my affection, and knoweth it; of an estate, not grounded to his greatness; of a popular reputation; of a military dependence: I demand, whether there can be a more dangerous image than this, represented to any monarch living; much more to a Lady of her Majesty’s apprehension? And is it not more evident, than demonstration it self, that whilst this impression continueth in her Majesty’s breast, you can fi nd no other condition that inventions to keep your estate bare and low; crossing and disgracing your actions; extenuating, and blasting of your merit; carping with contempt at your nature and fashions; breeding, nourishing and fortifying such instruments as are most factious against you; repulses and scorns of your friends and dependants that are true and steadfast; winning and inveigling away from you such as are fl exible and wavering; thrusting you into odious employments and offi ces, to supplant your reputation; abusing you, and feeding you, with dalliances and demonstrations to divert you from descending into the serious consideration of your own case; yea, and percase venturing you in perilous and dangerous enterprises. Herein, it may please your Lordship to understand me; for I mean nothing less, than that these things should be plotted and intended, as in her Majesty’s royal mind towards you; I know the excellency of her nature, too well. But I say, wheresoever the formerly described impression is taken in any King’s breast, towards a subject, these other recited inconveniences, must of necessity of politic consequence, follow. In respect of such instruments as are never failing about Princes; which spy into their humours and conceits and second them; and not only second them, but in seconding increase them. Yea, and many times without their knowledge pursue them further than themselves would. Your Lordship will ask the question, wherewith the Athenians were wont to interrupt their orators, when they exaggerated their dangers: quid igitur agendum est? I will tell your Lordship, quæ mibi nunc in mentem veniunt; supposing nevertheless, that your self, out of your own wisdom, upon the case with this plainness and liberty represented to you, will fi nd out better expedients and remedies. I wish a cure applied to every of the fi ver former impressions, which I will take not in order, but as I think they are of weight. For the removing the impressions of your nature to be opiniastre, and not rulable; fi rst, and above all things, I wish that all matters past, which cannot be revoked, your Lordship 218 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals would turn altogether, upon insatisfaction, and not upon your nature or proper disposition. This string you cannot, upon every apt occasion, harp upon too much. Next, whereas I have noted you to fl y and avoid, (in some respect justly,) the resemblance or imitation of my Lord of Leicester and my Lord Chancellor Hatton; yet I am persuaded, (howsoever I wish your Lordship as distant as you are, from them in points of favour, integrity, magnanimity, and merit;) that it will do you much good between the Queen and you to allege them, (as oft as you fi nd occasion) for authors and patterns. For I do not know a readier mean to make her Majesty think, you are on the right way. Thirdly, when at any time your Lordship upon occasion happen in speeches to do her Majesty right, (for there is no such matter as fl attery amongst you all,) I fear you handle it. Magis in speciem adornatis verbis, quam ut sentire videaris. So that a man may read formality in your countenance; whereas your Lordship should do it familiarly, et oratione fi da. Fourthly, your Lordship should never be without some particulars afoot, which you should seem to pursue with earnestness and affection; and then let them fall upon taking knowledge of her Majesty’s opposition and dislike. Of which the weightiest sort may be if your Lordship offer to labour in the behalf of some that you favour of some of the place now void; choosing such a subject as you think her Majesty is like to oppose unto: and if you will say that this is, conjunctum cum aliena injuria; I will not answer; hæt non aliter constabunt; but I say, commendation from so good a mouth, doth not hurt a man though you prevail not. A less weighty sort of particular may be the pretence of some journeys which at her Majesty’s request your Lordship mought relinquish; as if you would pretend a journey to see your living and estate towards Wales or the like: for as for great foreign journeys, of employment and service, it standeth not with your gravity to play or stratagem with them. And the lightest sort of particulars, which yet are not to be neglected, are in your habits, apparel, wearings, gestures, and the like. The impression of greatest prejudice next, is that of military dependence. Wherein, I cannot suffi ciently wonder at your Lordship’s course; that you say the wars are your occupation; and go on in that course: whereas, if I mought have advised your Lordship, you should have left that person in Plymouth; more than when in counsel or in commending fi t persons for service for wars, it had been in season. And here, (my Lord,) I pray mistake me not. I am not to play now that part of a gown-man, that would frame you best to mine own turn. I know what I owe you. I am infi nitely glad of this last journey, now it is past. The rather because you may make so honourable a full point for a time. You have property, good enough, in that greatness. There is none can, of many years, ascend near you in competition. Besides, the disposing of the places and affairs both concerning the wars, (you increasing in other greatness,) will of themselves fl ow to you; which will preserve that dependence in full measure. It is a thing that of all things, I would have you retain the times considered: and the necessity of the service for other reason I know none. But I say; keep it in substance, but abolish it in shows to the Queen. For her Majesty loveth peace. Next she loveth not charge. Thirdly, that kind of dependence maketh a suspected greatness. Therefore, quod instat agamus. Let that be a sleeping honour awhile and cure the Queen’s mind in that point. Therefore again, whereas I heard your Lordship designing to your self, the Earl Marshal’s place, or the place of Master of the Ordinance, I did not in my mind so well like of either; because of their affi nity with a martial greatness. But of the places now void in my judgement and discretion, I would name you to the place of Lord Lochithea 219

Privy Seal. For fi rst, it is the third person of the great offi cers of the crown. Next, it hath a kind of super intendence over the Secretary. It hath also an affi nity with the Court of Wards, in regard of the fees from the liveries. And it is a fi ne honour quiet place and worth a thousand pounds by year. And my Lord Admiral’s father had it, who was a martial man. And it fi ts a favourite to carry her Majesty’s image in Seal, who beareth it best expressed in heart. But my chief reason is that which I fi rst alleged to divert her Majesty from this impression of a marital greatness. In concurrence whereof if your Lordship shall not remit anything of your former diligence as the Star Chamber; if you shall continue such intelligences as are worth cherishing; if you shall pretend to be as bookish and contemplative as ever you were; all these courses have both their advantages and uses in themselves otherwise and serve exceeding aptly to this purpose. Whereunto I add one expedient more stronger than all the rest; and for mine own confi dent opinion, void of any prejudice or danger of diminution of your greatness; and that is the bringing in of some martial man to be of the council; dealing directly with her Majesty in it as for her service and your better assistance; choosing nevertheless some person that may be known not to come in against you by any former division. I judge the fi ttest to be my Lord Mountjoy or my Lord Willoughby. And if your Lordship see deeplier into it, than I do, that you would not have it done in effect; yet in my opinion, you may serve your turn by the pretence of it, and stay it nevertheless. The third impression is of a popular reputation; which because it is a thing good in it self, being obtained as your Lordship obtained it, that is, bonis artibus; and besides, well governed is one of the best fl owers of your greatness both present and to come; it would be handled tenderly. The only way is to quench it verbis and not rebus. And therefore to take all occasion to the Queen to speak against popularity and popular courses, vehemently; and to tax it in all others: but, nevertheless, to go on in your honourable Commonwealth courses as you do. And therefore, I will not advise you to cure this, by dealing in monopolies or any oppressions, only, if in parliament your Lordship be forward for treasure in respect of the wars, it becometh your person well. And if her Majesty object popularity to you at any time, I would say to her; a Parliament will shew that, and so feed her with expectation. The fourth impression of the inequality between your estate of means, and your greatness of respects, is not to be neglected. For believe it, (my Lord,) that till her Majesty fi nd you careful of your estate, she will not only think you more like to continue chargeable to her, but also have a conceit that you have higher imaginations. The remedies are, fi rst, to profess it in all speeches to her. Next, in such suits wherein both honour, gift, and profi t may be taken to communicate freely with her Majesty by way of enducing her to grant, that it will be this benefi t to you. Lastly, to be plain with your Lordship; (for the gentlemen are such as I am beholding to;) nothing can make the Queen or the world think so much that you are come to a provident care of your estate, as the altering of some of your offi cers: who, though they be as true to you, as one hand to the other; yet opinio veritate major. But if in respect of the bonds, they may be entered into for your Lordship, you cannot so well dismiss your self of them, this cannot be done but with time. For the fi fth and last, which is of the advantage of a favourite: as severed from the rest, it cannot hurt; so joined with them, it maketh her Majesty more fearful and shadowy, as not 220 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals knowing her own strength. The only remedy to this is to give way to some other favourite, as in particular you shall fi nd her Majesty enclined; so as the subject hath no ill nor dangerous aspect towards yourself. For otherwise, whosoever shall tell me that you may not have singular use of a favourite at your devotion, I will say he understandeth not the Queen’s affection nor your Lordship’s condition. And so I rest. Fra. Bacon.

As a melancholy snail, I prepare speeches composed for Essex for the Queen’s Accession Day Tilt: Squire, Hermit, Soldier, Statesman. It is buried with fl attering and adulatory references to her Majesty, which may help to reconcile her to Essex. In parallel, I begin to write Promus, which shall include 1.600 items, 255 from Erasmus’ Adagia, 110 from Virgil, 107 from the Bible, 46 from Ovid, a huge collection 443 of proverbs in Latin, French, Spanish, and Italian, together with a large number of metaphors, similes and brief phrases. My writ to Anthony from Gray’s Inn is to move him and join with me in security for £500, which I did purpose then decidedly to have taken up; £300 odd secure, and £200 by way of forbearance, both to the satisfaction of a Peter Vanlore, our servant, for the taking up of the whole of one man, according to which I forward Anthony the bonds. And whereas he shall fi nd the bond to be of £600, which is £100 more; true, it is that fi rst the jewel cost £500 and odd, as shall appear to Anthony by my bond. I promise him to immediately (for we are agreed so) to free him of one hundreth, for which he stands bound to a Mr. William Fleetwood. Methinks I am no more than half of my self when the Inner Temple of Gray’s Inn turns into a mimic Royal Court over which a Prince of Purpool ruled as the Master of Revels. With all my state courtiers and servants, I proceedeth to the Great Hall of Gray’s Inn, where I am enthroned with great pomp and ceremonial. The entertainment is so gorgeous, so skilfully managed and so topical that the students have a thoroughly riotously happy time. It has already been arranged that we should have certain grand nights for the entertainment of strangers. But the fame and excitement of that fi rst grand night, with a play, Comedy of Errors,18 attracts a throng which so crowded the Grand Hall that the student actors are driven from the stage and for a time the visitors have to content themselves with music and dancing. The following night is taken up with a mock legal inquiry into the causes of the disorder and the reason why the players were driven off the stage, which ended with the resolution, that the Prince’s Council should be reformed, and some graver conceits should take their place. The entertainment, which was described by a contemporary, “as one of the most elegant that was ever presented to an audience of statesmen and courtiers” concluded these festive activities. It is so, then, that I am requested to assist in recovering the lost honour of Gray’s Inn, which suffered the night before by the miscarriage of this Christmas revel; I am sorry the joint Masque from the four Inns of Court faileth; wherein I conceive there is no other ground of that event but impossibility. Nevertheless, because it falleth out that at this time Gray’s Inn is well furnished of gallant young gentlemen, all may be pleased to know

18 A reproduction of Plautus’ Menoechmi not translated into English till 1595 Lochithea 221 that rather than this occasion shall pass without some demonstration of affection from the Inns of Court, there are a dozen gentlemen of Gray’s Inn that out of the honour which they bear, to whom at their last Masque they were so much bounden, will be ready to furnish a Masque; wishing it were in their powers to perform it according to their minds.19 ’Tis not overshot when uncle Burghley suggests to state punishment to vagabonds, that those that make plays to make a comedy thereof, and to act it with there names.20 This being supposed, I busy organizing a play for Gray’s Inn festivities with the title: The Device of the Indian Prince where a blind boy, as an oracle, speaks to her Majesty: Seated between the old world, and the new, a land there is no other land may touch, where reigns a Queen in peace and honour true, stories or fables do describe no such. Never did Atlas such a burden bear, as she in holding up the world oppressed; supplying with her virtue everywhere weakness of friends, errors of servants best. No nation breeds a warmer blood for war, and yet she calms them by her Majesty; no age hath ever wits refi ned so far, to her thy son must make his sacrifi ce if he will have the morning of his eyes. There is no art delivered unto mankind that hath not the works of nature for his principal object, without which they could not consist, and on which they so depend, as they become actors and players, as it were of what nature will have set forth. So doth the astronomer look upon the stars, and by that he seeth set down what order nature hath taken therein. So doth the geometrician and arithmetician, in their divers sorts of quantities. So doth the musicians in times tell you, which by nature agree, which not. The natural philosopher thereon hath his name, and the moral philosopher standeth upon the natural virtues, vices, or passions of man: and follow nature saith he therein, and thou shalt not err. The lawyer saith, what men have determined. The historian, what men have done. The grammarian, speaketh only of the rules of speech, and the rhetorician and logician, considering what in nature will soonest prove, and persuade thereon, give artifi cial rules, which still are compassed within the circle of a question, according to the proposed matter. The physician wayeth the nature of man’s body, and the nature of things helpful, or hurtful unto it. And the metaphysic though it be in the second and abstract notions, and therefore be counted supernatural, yet doth he indeed build upon the depth of nature. Only the poet disdaining to be tied to any such subjection, lifted up with the vigor of his own invention, doth grow in effect into another nature: in making things either better then nature bringeth forth, or quite a new, forms such as never were in nature. I think good to deliver that Essex employs into his services a Henry Wotton-Fabritio; Anthony dislikes Fabritio, this elegant dabble; the mutual displacement builds on a wall

19 Henry Wotton (1568–1639) poet, diplomat and translator. In 1651 his memoirs are published Reliquiae Wottonianae and an entrance comments on Anthony Bacon: “The Earl of Essex had accommodated Lord Anthony Bacon in partition of his house, and had assigned him a noble entertainment. This was a gentleman of impotent feet, but of a nimble head; who being of an improvident nature, contrary to his brother the Lord Viscount St Albans, and well knowing the advantage of a dangerous secret, would many times cunningly let fall some words as if he could amend his fortunes under the Cecilians with whom he was near in alliance and of blood also, and who had made some great proffers to win him away.” 20 Edward P. Cheyney: A History of England, vol. i, 1948 222 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals of jealousy and remains even upon Anthony’s death, when Wotton-Fabritio publishes his memoirs.21 From Twickenham Park Lodge, though sent for to the Court, I do not see the Queen; she allegeth she is resolve with her Counsel upon her places of law. Upon sending her a new-year gift, a garment, the only new-year gift I so offer her Majesty, in that which God hath given to me: which is a mind in all humbles to wait upon her commandments and business, wherein I would to God that I were hooded that I saw less; or that I could perform more for now I am like a hawk, that bates when I see occasion of service but cannot fl y because I am tied to another’s fi st.22 But no fi st tieth my quill for Henry Percy,23 my coach companion, to descend this information to Anthony:

Brother. The Queen seemeth to apprehend my travel; whereupon I was sent for, by Sir Robert Cecil, in sort as from her Majesty. I came to the Court upon his relation of her Majesty’s speech. The Queen’s speech is after this sort. Why? I have made no Solicitor. Hath anybody carried a Solicitor with him in his pocket? But he must have it in his own time or else I must be thought to cast him away. Then her Majesty sweareth that if I continue in this manner, threaten to leave the Law and retire into the country with a couple of men to aid me in my literary work, she will seek all England for a Solicitor rather than take me. Yes, she will send for Houghton and Coventry to-morrow, as if she would swear them both. Again she entereth into it, that she hath never dealt with any as with me; she hath pulled me over the bar she hath used me in her greatest causes. She is now more angry with Essex than with me. I must now be more careful of my credit than ever, since I receive so little thence where I deserve the best. And to be plain with you, I mean even to make the best of those small things I have, with as much expedition as may be without loss and so sing a requiem I hope abroad. I have here an idle pen or two, specially one that was coz- ened, thinking to have got some money this term. I pray send me somewhat else for them to write out besides your Irish collection, which is almost done. There is a collection of Dr. James of foreign states, largeliest of Flanders, which, though it be no great matter, I would be glad to have it. Fra. Bacon.

Her Majesty referreth to no other letter that I had writ than this, of which my memory weaketh in the receiver: “My Lord. I thank your Lordship very much for your kind and comfortable letter, which I hope will be followed at hand with another of more assurance.

21 Philip Sidney: Defence of Poesie, 1595 22 Resuscitatio, 1657 23 Spedding: Works; vol i. p. 349. Modern biographers refer to Lady Anne Bacon’s dislike for “bloody Percy” who is also coined as “Francis Bacon’s bed companion.” No such reference I could ﬁ nd amongst Spedding’s 15 volume Works; the Resuscitatio published in 1657 or in the Baconiana, 1679 at the British Library Lochithea 223

And I must confess this very delay hath gone so near me, as it hath almost overthrown my health. For when I revolved the good memory of my father, the near degree of alliance I stand to my Lord Treasurer,24 your Lordship’s so signaled and declared favour, the honorable testimony of so many counselors, the commendation unlaboured and in sort offered by my Lords the Judges and the Master of the Rolls elect; that I was voiced with great expectation, and (though I say it my self) with the wishes of most men, to the higher place; that I am a man that the Queen hath already done for; and Princes, especially her Majesty, loveth to make an end where they begin; and then add hereunto the obscureness and many exceptions to my competitors; when (I say) I resolve all this, I cannot but conclude with myself that no man ever received a more exquisite disgrace. And therefore truly, my Lord, I was determined, and am determined, if her Majesty reject me, this to do. My nature can take no evil ply; but I will by God’s assistance, with this disgrace of my fortune, and yet with that comfort of the good opinion of so many worthy and honorable persons, retire myself with a couple of men to Cambridge, and there spend my life in my studies and contemplations without looking back. I humbly pray your Lordship to pardon me for troubling you with my melancholy. And so I rest.” To pass on, Anthony receiveth letters of interest from mother that I think good to deliver. Letter 1: “I liked nothing my cousin Kemp’s horse I sent you. I will not Graham’s. My time is in God’s hand, and not at his appointment: he ever stood upon a month’s warning in my life. Some unknown trick there is; it will not serve with me doubtless. And shall Elsdon and Brocket thus dally and mock still? If God give me strength I will to London for these two causes.” Letter 2: “Money is very hard to come by, and sure friends more hard; and you shall be still in other folk’s danger, and not your own man, and your debts will pinch you, though you may hope; but your continual sickliness withal is a great hindrance; and if you make show of a housekeeping in the city, you shall quickly be overcharged, much disquieted, and brought not over the ears but over shoulders.” Of one letter, mother warns Anthony of his friendship and close encounters of Essex one Henry Howard,25 brother of the Duke of Norfolk, who had been executed for treason

24 William Cecil 25 Henry Howard (1540–1614) Roman Catholic intriguer during the reigns of Elizabeth I., and James I., of England, known for his unscrupulousness and treachery. He was one of the judges at the trials of Raleigh and Lord Cobham in 1603, of Guy Fawkes in 1605, and of Garnet in 1606, in each case pressing for a conviction. The climax of his career was reached when he assisted his grandniece, Frances Howard, Lady Essex, in obtaining her divorce from her husband in order to marry the favourite Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset, whose mistress she already was and whose alliance Northampton was eager to secure for himself. He obtained the divorce by the decree of a special commission, and when Sir Thomas Overbury’s infl uence seemed likely to prevent Somerset from completing the marriage project, he caused Overbury to be imprisoned in the Tower of London. Shortly afterward Overbury died from the effects of poison administered according to the wishes of Lady Essex; and the close intimacy which existed between Lady Essex and Northampton leaves his name tarnished with suspicion. He 224 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals in 1572. Letter 3: “Beware in any wise of the Lord H! He is a dangerous intelligencing man; no doubt a subtle Papist inwardly, and lieth in wait. Peradventure he hath some close working with Standen and the Spaniard Perez. Be not too open; he will betray you to divers, and to your Aunt Russell among others. Avoid his familiarity as you love the truth and yourself. A very instrument of the Spanish Papists. I pray you no creature know or see this I write; but burn it with your own hands.” Letter 4: “It is commonly spoken that Fynch of Woodend and Guaram are joint companions in all ill fellowship; you and your brother have taken much discredit by not judging wisely and rightly of those.” Letter 5: “Woodward told me you required a hogshead of beer; I will send you one by the card of my best ordinary beer; the rest remaining is March.” Letter 6: “Yesterday, seeing my sister Russell at the Blackfriars house, I saw her so lamenting, I said I would write to Sir Robert Cecil. “No, no,” said she, “it is too late; he hath marred all, and that against my counsel’s liking at all.” But (do) not you nor your brother inter- meddle in it nor be a knowing of it. I pray you show your brother this, and let him not take knowledge lest you both set on work; and for that Howard, once again be very ware as of a subtle serpent. I thank you for your comely mastiff; it is supposed he will hunt after sheep; he is too old; I durst not prove him yet.” Recommending my fi rst suit and touching the Solicitor place, I forward Uncle Burghley this letter:26 “It may please your Lordship. After the remembrance of my most humble duty, though I know, by late experience how mindful your Lordship vouchsafeth to be of me and my poor fortunes, since it pleased you Lordship during your indisposition, when her Majesty came to visit your Lordship to make mention of me for my employment and preferment; yet being now in the county, I do presume that your Lordship, who of your self had so honourable care of the matter, will not think it a trouble to be solicited therein. My hope is, that whereas your Lordship told me, her Majesty was somewhat gravelled upon the offence she took at my speech in Parliament, your Lordship’s favourable and good word (who hath assured me that for your own part you construed that I spake to the best) will be as a good tide, to remove her from that shelf. And it is not unknown to your Lordship that I was the fi rst of the ordinary sort of the Lower House of Parliament that spake for the subsidy; and that which I after spake in difference was but in circumstance of time and manner which methinks should be no great matter, since there is variety allowed in counsel as a discord in music to make it more perfect. But I may justly doubt no so much her Majesty’s impression upon this particular as her conceit otherwise of my insuffi ciency; which though I acknowledge to be great, yet it will be the less because I purpose not to divide my self between her Majesty and the causes of other men, (as others have done,) but to attend her business only; hoping that a whole man meanly able may do as well as half

advised against the summoning of Parliament in 1614 and then fomented disputes to compel James to dissolve it. He died unmarried, a Roman Catholic, in 1614, at which time his title became extinct—Encyclopædia Britannica 26 Resuscitatio, 1657 Lochithea 225 a man better able. And if her Majesty think, that she shall make an adventure in using one, that is rather a man of study, than of practice and experience; surely, I may remember to have heard that my father, (an example I confess, rather ready than like) was made solicitor, of the augmentation, (a court of much business,) when he had never practiced and was but 27 years old: and Mr. Brograve, was now in my time called to be Attorney of the Dutchy, when he had practised little or nothing: and yet discharge his place with great suf- ﬁ ciency. But these things, and the like, are as her Majesty shall be made capable of them: wherein knowing what authority your Lordship’s commendation hath with her Majesty, I conclude with my self that the substance of strength which I may receive will be from your Lordship. It is true, my life hath been so private, as I have had no means to do your Lordship service; but yet, as your Lordship knoweth, I have made offer of such as I could yield: for as God hath given me a mind to love the public, so incidentally I have ever had your Lordship in singular admiration; whose happy ability her Majesty hath so long used to her great honour and yours. Besides, that amendment of state of countenance, which I have received, hath been from your Lordship. And therefore, if your Lordship shall stand a good friend to your poor ally, you shall but tueri opus proprium, which you have begun. And your Lordship shall bestow your beneﬁ t upon one that hath more sense of obligation than of self-love. Thus humbly desiring pardon of so long a letter, I wish your Lordship all happiness.” I do not work too open on the diplomatic paper that Cecil receiveth from John Scudamore, priest to Nicholas Fitzherbert at Rome, Florence:

Diplomatic Transcription Hertfordshire, Saint Albans: Hatﬁ eld House.27 Right Honourable. As I have been most bound unto your honour, so I most humbly desire your honour to pardon my boldness, and make my choice of your honour to let you understand my bounden duty and desire of God’s preservation of my most dear Sovereign Queen and country: whom I beseech God ever to bless and to confound all their enemies what and whomsoever. Fifteen years since I was in France Servant to Sir Henry Cobham who was Ambassador for the Queen’s Majesty, and lay in Paris, where I fell acquainted with one Smith a priest, and one Morgan sometimes of her Majesty’s chapel, on Verstigan who broke out of England being apprehended, and one Moris a Welchman that was our porter, who is at Rome, these men thrust many idle toys into my head of religion, singe that the Papists was the truth and ours in England all false, and I being but younger their fair words overreach me and I believed with them. Within years after I came into England where I saw men of that faction condemned and executed, which I thought was great injustice taking religion for the only cause, and when my best friends would persuade me I would not believe them. Then in time passing on Mr. Johnson died, and I became an humble suitor for his place (thinking my self most worthiest), wherein I found many good and honourable friends that spoke for me, but I saw that I was like to go without it, and that any might have preferment but I. Whereby I began to

27 Marquess of Salisbury, Cecil Papers Vol. 172. Numbers: 91–93 226 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals sound the cause, and jest that my religion was my hindrance. Whereupon, my mind was being troubled, I desired to get beyond the seas, which I durst not attempt without licence from some of the Privy Counsel, for fear of being taken and so have extreme punishment. And according as I desired there came a letter to me out of Germany from the Duke of Brunswicke, whereupon I spoke to your honour and to my Lord of Essex, who willingly gave me both your hands (for which I would be glad if there were any service in me that your honours could command). When I came to the Duke of Brunswicke he used me kindly, and gave me a rich chain of gold, xxiij£ in money with velvet and satin and gold lace to make me apparel, with promise that if I would serve him he would give me as much as any Prince in the world. From thence I went to the Landgrave of Hessen, (who gave me the greatest welcome that might be for one of my quality) who sent a ring into England to my wife valued at xx£ sterling, and gave me a great standing cup with a cover gilt, full of dolars with many great offers for my service. And from thence I had great desire to see Italy and came to Venice and from thence to Florence where I played before the Duke and got great favours. And one evening I was walking upon the piazzo in Florence a gentle man told me that he spied an English priest and that his name was Skidmore and son and heir to Sir John Skidmore of the Court, so I being intended to go unto Rome to study with a famous musician named Luca Marenzio, stepped to this Mr. Skidmore the priest and asked him if he was an English man, and he told me yes: and whose son he was, and I telling him my name he was very glad to see me, so I told him I would go to Rome and desired his help for my safety. For said I, “if they should mistake me there, my fortune wear hard, for I have been thrust off of all good fortunes because I am a Catholic at home. For I heard that her Majesty being spoke to for me, said, I was a man to serve any Prince in the world, but I was an obstinate Papist.” Whereunto he answered, “Mr. Dowlande, if it be not so, make her words true.” So in farther talk we spoke of priests, and I told him that I did not think it true that any priests (as we said in England) would kill the Queen, or once go about to touch her ﬁ nger, and said I whatsoever my religion be will neither meddle nor make with any thing there done, so that they do not any thing against the Queen. Whereunto he answered that I spoke as a good subject to her Majesty, but said here in Rome you shall hear Englishmen your own countrymen speak most hardly of her and wholly seek to overthrow her and all England, and those be the Jesuits, said he, who are of the Spanish faction: moreover, said he, we have many Jares with them, and withal wished to God the Queen were a Catholic. And said he, “to defend my country against the Spaniards I would come into England and bear a pike on my shoulders.” Among our talk he told me that he had order to attaché divers English gentlemen, and that he had been iij years from England. So I brought him to his lodging doer, where he told me that there was nine priests come from Rome to go for England. He came but the day before to Florence, and I think they came altogether. He told me that he would stay there in the town and study in an abbey called Sancta Maria Nouella, and that he must keep in for one month, and that he would write letters of me to Rome, which I should receive very shortly. But I heard not of him in a month after, and then there came two friars to my lodging the one was an Englishman named Balye, a Yorkshire man. The next day after my speech with Skidmore, I dined with my Lord Gray and divers other gentlemen, whom I told of my speech with Skidmore, giving them warning. Whereupon my Lord Gray went to Siena, and the rest dispersed them selves. More over I told my Lord Gray howsoever I was for Lochithea 227 religion, if I did perceive anything in Rome that either touched her Majesty or the State of England I would give notice of it though it was the loss of my life. Which he liked well and bade me keep that secret. This Friar Balye before named delivered me a letter which I have here sent unto your honour, which letter I brake open before Mr. Josias Bodley, and showed what was written in it to him and divers others, after this, this friar Balye told he had received letters from Rome to hasten me forward, and told me that my discontentment was known at Rome, and that I should have a large pension of the Pope, and that his Holiness and all the Cardinals would make wonder full much of me. Thereupon I told him of my wife and children how to get them to me, whereunto he told me that I should have acquaintance with such as should bring them over if she had any willingness, or else they would lose their lives. For there came those into England for such purposes. “For,” quote he “Mr. Skidmore brought out of England at his last being there xvij persons both men and women, for which the Bishop weeps when he sees him for joy.” After my departure I called to mind our conference and got me by my self and wept heartily, to see my fortune so hard that I should become servant to the greatest enemy of my Prince, country, wife, children, and friends, for want, and to make me like them selves. God He knoweth I never loved treason nor treachery nor never knew any, nor never heard any mass in England, which I ﬁ nd is great abuse of the people for on my soul I understand it not, wherefore I have reformed my self to live according to her Majesty’s laws as I was born under her Highness, and that most humbly I do crave pardon, protesting if there were any ability in me, I would be most ready to make amends. At Bologna I met with men the one named Pierce an Irishman, the other named Dracot, they are gone both to Rome, in Venice I heard an Italian say, that he marvelled that King Phillip had never a good friend in England that with his dagger would dispatch the Queen’s Majesty, but said he, God suffers her, in the end to give her the greater overthrow. Right honourable, this have I written that her Majesty may know the villainy of these most wicked priests and Jesuits, and to beware of them. I thank God I have both forsaken them and their religion which tended to nothing but destruction. Your honours’ most bounden forever John Doulande. To The Right Honourable Sir Robert Cecil, Knight, On Of The Queen’s Majesty’s Most Honourable Privy Counsel Give This.

Uncle Burghley and Fortescue place with the Queen to appoint me one of her Counsel Learned in the law and sixty acres in the forest of Zelwood, Somerset, known as the Pitts. Pregnant and swelling, the Solicitor General position remaineth an apotheosis. ’Tis scarcely of surprise that mother saith to Anthony: “I gave your brother at twice £25 for his paling, the rather to cheer him since he had nothing of me. Crosby told me he looked very ill; he thought he taketh still inward grief; I fear it may hinder his health hereafter. Counsel to be Godly wise fi rst, and wise for himself too, and both of you look to your expenses in time, and oversee those you trust how trustily, for I tell you plainly it hath been long commonly observed that both your servants are full of money.” I hold private conversation with Crosby concerning this matter, that he should not further any distressing news to mother who be frail with her own health. He implores that 228 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals no such words come out of his lips regarding our servants being “full of money.” I never did see my mother fi t to lie; therefore I see Crosby fi t to lie to defend his weak position. Anthony bring me word of Essex that followeth:28

My Singular Good Lord. I am bold, and yet out of a most entire and dutiful love wherein my german brother and my self stand infi nitely bound unto your Lordship, to present unto you the fi rst sight and taste of such fruit as my brother was constrained to gather, as he professeth him self, before they were ripe, to prevent stealing; and withal most humbly to beseech our Lordship, that as my brother in token of mutual fi rm brotherly affection hath bestowed by dedication the proper them upon my self, so your Lordship, to whose disposition and commandment I have entirely and inviolably vowed my poor self, and whatever appertaineth unto me, either in possession or right, that your Lordship, I say, in your noble and singular kindness towards us both, will vouchsafe fi rst to give me leave to transfer my interest unto your Lordship, then humbly to crave your honourable acceptance and most worthy protection. And so I must humbly take my leave. Anthony Bacon.

Of which Anthony moveth into the Essex House to act as the Earl’s Secretary of State. Mother’s view on this arrives: “If her Majesty have resolved upon the negative for your brother, as I hear, truly, save for the brust a little, I am glad of it. God in his time hath better in store I trust. For considering his kind of health and what cumber pertains to that offi ce, it is best for him I hope. Let us all pray the Lord we make us to profi t by His fatherly correction doubtless it is His hand, and all for the best, and love to His children that will seek Him fi rst, and depend upon His goodness. Godly and wisely love ye, like brethren, whatsoever happen, and be of good courage in the Lord, with good hope.” Now, taking in the fi elds and mountains of a diplomatic nature, I write a part in a performance that is to be given by Essex to celebrate the accession of Queen Elizabeth, entitled Of Love and Self-Love, alongside mother’s furtherances on Lord Henry Howard who be “subtilly deceitful: Beware! Beware! Burn this.” Some little time till the Queen’s Accession Day Tilt, and Essex strikes his pen through my lines, which drop from the acted scene and from the printed Masque. The day of the Masque arrives and is performed at York House with my good companion, Tobie Matthew, performing the Squire. Essex’ device is much commended in these late triumphs. Some pretty while before he cometh in him self to the tilt, he sends his page with some speech to the Queen, who returneth with her Majesty’s glove. And when he cometh him self, he is met with an old Hermit, a Secretary of State, a brave Soldier, and an Esquire. The fi rst presented him with a book of meditations; the second with political discourses; the third with orations of brave fought battles; the fourth was but his own follower, to whom the other three imparted much of their purpose before he cometh in, another deviseth with him, persuading him to this or that course of life, according to their inclinations. Comes into the tiltyard unthought

28 Spedding: Works, vol xii. p. 288 Lochithea 229 upon, the ordinary post boy of London, a ragged villain all bemired, upon a poor lean jade, galloping and blowing for life, and delivered the Secretary a packet of letters, which he presently offers Essex; and with this dumb show our eyes are fed for that time. In the after-supper, before the Queen, they ﬁ rst deliver a well-penned speech to move this worthy Knight to leave his vain following of love, and to take him to heavenly meditation: the secretaries all tend to have him follow matters of State, the soldiers persuade him to the war; but the esquire answereth them all, and concludeth with an excellent by too plain English, that this Knight would never forsake his mistress’ love, whose virtue made all his thoughts divine, whose wisdom taught him all true policy, whose beauty and worth were at all times able to make him ﬁ t to command armies. He showeth all the defects and imperfections of all their times, and there thought his course of life to be best in serving his mistress. The old man is he that in Cambridge playeth Giraldy, Morley playeth the Secretary, and he that playeth Pedantiq is the soldier, and Toby Matthew, as mentioneth, acts the Squire’s part. The world makes many untrue constructions of these speeches, comparing the Hermit and the Secretary to two of the Lords, and the soldier to Sir Roger Williams; but the Queen saith that if she had thought there had been so much said of her, she would not have been there that night; and so she leaves for bed.29 Of no reply on the appointment from her Majesty; I write to Cousin Fulke Greville:30

Sir. I understand of your pains to have visited me, for which I thank you. My matter is an endless question. I assure you I had said Requiesce anima mea; but I now am otherwise put to my Psalter; Nolite confi dere. I dare go no further. Her Majesty had by set speech more than once assured me of her intention to call me to her service, which I could not understand but of the place I had been named to. And now whether invidus homo hoc fecit; or whether my matter must be an appendix to my Lord of Essex suit; or whether her Majesty, pretending to prove my ability, meaneth but to take advantage of some errors which, like enough, at one time or other I may commit; or what is it? But her Majesty is not ready to despatch it. And what though the Master of the Rolls, and my Lord of Essex, and your self, and others, think my case without doubt, yet in the meantime I have a hard condition, to stand so that whatsoever service I do to her Majesty it shall be thought to be but servitium viscatum, lime- twigs and fetches to place my self; and so I shall have envy, not thanks. This is a course to quench all good spirits, and to corrupt every man’s nature, which will, I fear, much hurt her Majesty’s service in the end. I have been like a piece of stuff bespoken in the shop; and if her Majesty will not take me, it may be the selling by parcels will be more gainful. For to be, as I told you, like a child following a bird, which when he is nearest fl ieth away and lighteth a little before, and then the child after it again, and so in infi nitum, I am weary of it; as also of wearying my good friends, of whom, nevertheless, I hope in one course or other gratefully to deserve. And so, not forgetting your business, I have to trouble you

29 Northumberland Manuscript MS. Folio 47–53 30 (a) Lord Campbell: The Life of Lord Bacon, 1853 (b) R.W. Church: English Men of Letters; vol. vi, 1894 230 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals with this idle letter; being but justa et moderata querimonia; for indeed I do confess, primus amor will not easily be cast off. And thus again I commend me to you. Fra. Bacon.

Francis Bacon Essay XXI. Of Delays. Fortune is like the market; where many times, if you can say a little, the price will fall. And again, it is sometimes like Sibylla’s offer; which at fi rst offereth the commodity at full, then consumeth part and part, and still holdeth up the price. For occasion (as it is in the common verse) turneth a bald noddle, after she hath presented her locks in front, and no hold taken; or at least turneth the handle of the bottle fi rst to be received, and after the belly, which is hard to clasp. There is surely no greater wisdom than well to time the beginnings and onsets of things. Dangers are no more light, if they once seem light; and more dangers have deceived men than forced them. Nay, it were better to meet some dangers half way, though they come nothing near, than to keep too long a watch upon their approaches; for if a man watch too long, it is odds he will fall asleep. On the other side, to be deceived with too long shadows (as some have been when the moon was slow and shone on their enemies’ back), and so to shoot off before the time; or to teach dangers to come, by over early buck- ling towards them; is another extreme. The ripeness or unripeness of the occasion (as we said) must ever be well weighed; and generally it is good to commit the beginnings of all great actions to Argos with his hundred eyes, and the ends to Briareus with his hundred hands; fi rst to watch, and then to speed. For the helmet of Pluto, which maketh the politic man go invisible, is secrecy in the counsel and celerity in the execution. For when things are once come to the execution, there is no secrecy comparable to celerity; like the motion of a bullet in the air, which fl ieth so swift as it outruns the eye.

I am most attentively requested by Mr. Savill to travel to Eton on touching the helps for the intellectual powers. Coming back from his invitation, where I refresh my self with company which I love, I fall into a consideration of that part of policy, whereof philosophy speaketh too much and laws too little; and that is of education of youth. Whereupon fi xing my mind a while, I fi nd straightways and note, even in the discourses of philosophers, which are so large in this argument, a strange silence concerning one principal part of that subject. For as touching the framing and seasoning of youth to moral virtues, as tolerance of labours, continency from pleasures, obedience, honour, and the like, they handle it; but touching the improvement and helping of the intellectual powers, as of conceit, memory, and judgement, they say nothing. Whether it were that they thought it to be a matter wherein nature only prevailed; or that they intended it as referred to the several and proper arts which teach the use of reason and speech. But for the former of these two reasons, howsoever it pleaseth them to distinguish of habits and powers, the experience is manifest enough that the motions and faculties of the wit and memory may be not only governed and guided, but also confi rmed and enlarged, by custom and exercise duly applied: as if a man exercise shooting, he shall not only shoot nearer the mark but also draw a stronger bow. I experienced how the exercises in the universities and schools are of memory and invention; either to speak by heart that which is set down verbatim, or to speak ex tempore; Lochithea 231 whereas there is little use in action of either of both: but most things which we utter are neither verbally premeditate, nor merely extemporal. Therefore exercise would be fi rmed to take a little breathing; and of consider of hearts; and then to form and fi r the speech ex tempore.31 ’Tis Christmas: I sing of a maiden that is makeless. King of all kings to her son she chest. He came all so still there his mother was, as dew in April that falleth on the grass. He came all so still to his mother’s bower, as dew in April that falleth on the fl ower. He came all so still there his mother lay, as dew in April that falleth on the spray. Mother and maiden was never none but she; well may such a lady God’s mother be.32 I am now appointed Queen’s Counsel Extraordinary; an honorifi c title for the age of thirty-fi ve. I engage in the prosecution of William Randal and consult in the charge ’gainst Sir John Smyth for provoking a military mutiny and insurrection ’gainst the Queen; together with Anthony, I collect news for her Majesty from foreign spies and foreign gazettes. I write to Anthony that I have remembered his salutation to Sir John Fortescue, and delivered him the gazette, desiring him to reserve it to read in his barge. He acknowledges it to be of another sort than the common. I deliver him account so much of Hawkins’ letter as contained advertisements copied out; the gazette being gone with him to the Court. I hear that Essex writes to Lord Keeper Egerton on my advancement:

My Very Good Lord. I do understand by my good friend Mr. F.B. how much he is bound to your Lordship for your favour. I do send your Lordship my best thanks and do protest unto you there is no gentleman in England of whose odd fortune I have been more desirous. I do still retain the same mind; but, because my intercession had rather hurt him than done him good, I dare not move the Queen for him. To your Lordship I earnestly commend the care I have of his advancement; for his parts were never destined to a private and (if I may so speak) an idle life. That life I call idle that is not spent in public business; for otherwise he will ever give himself worthy tasks. Your Lordship, in performing what I desire, will oblige us both, and within very short time see such fruit of your own work as will please you well. So, commending your Lordship to God’s best protection, I rest, at your Lordship’s commandment. Essex.

It seemeth that Essex appoints hours on favours without my knowledge so he may veil his debt to me for my services. A writ to Anthony: “Good brother. Yesternight Sir John Fortescue told me you had not many hours before imparted to the Queen your advertisement, and the gazettes likewise, which the Queen desired Mr. H. Stanhope to read all over unto her; and her Majesty commandeth they be not made vulgar. The

31 Francis Bacon’s letter and discourse to Sir Henry Savill in the Resuscitatio published 1657, p. 225–226 32 Anna Benneson McMahan: Shakespeare’s Christmas Gift to Queen Bess in 1596: the Christmas carol was sung to Queen Elizabeth I., in her presence at Whitehall in 1596 232 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

advertisement her Majesty made estimation of, as concurring with the other advertisements, and belike concurring also with her opinion of the affairs. So he willed me to return to you the Queen’s speeches. Other particulars of any speech from her Majesty of your self he did to repeat to me. For my Lord of Essex and the Lord-Treasurer, he said he was ready and disposed to do his best. But I seemed to make it only a love-suit, and passed presently from it, the rather because it was late in the night, and I was to deal with him on some better occasion after another manner, as you shall hereafter understand from me. I do fi nd in the speech of some Ladies, and the very fairest of this Court, some additions of reputation as methinks to be both; and I doubt not by God hath an operation in it that will not suffer good endeavours to perish. I had long speech with Sir Robert Cecil this morning, who seemed apt to discourse with me. Yet of your hest not a word. This I write to you in haste, aliud ex alio. I pray you, in the course of acquainting my Lord, say, where presseth, at fi rst by me, after from your self, I am more and more bound to him. Thus, wishing you good health, I commend you to God’s happiness. Your entire loving brother.” Of troth, betwixt Waad, we be summoned by Coke and Fleming; our business to gather evidence and look at the law ’gainst Smyth’s confession in the Tower whilst Essex embarks for Spain though I feel a storm brews.33 I write and dedicate for her Majesty mine Maxims and Elements of the Common Law, as our English Ambassador in Scotland writes to uncle Burghley that there is great offence by the King ’gainst my friend, Edmund Spenser, and the publishing in the second part of his Faerie Queene; his Majesty deems some dishonourable effects ’gainst his reign and his deceased mother, and desires that Spenser, for fault, must be tried and punished.34 ’Tis of good news Reader, that our cousin, Robert Bacon, from father’s side, doth gen- erously lend us, upon occasion, some money of which Anthony dutifully reminds me of: “Good brother. Having understood by my cousin, Robert Bacon, that he had seen you this morning, I thought verily you and he had been at a point; till, asking of him whether you were both satisfi ed, he answered that the matter of the bond was not spoken of, and persisteth still in demanding the same of us, protesting that otherwise he shall be utterly unsatisfi ed. Whereof I thought meet to certify you. Also that Mr. Trott was with me this morning marvellously discontented, charging me very deeply to have been cause sine quâ non he fell into the labyrinth of encumbers with you, and therefore challenging my earnest and effectual mediation of suffi cient assurance of his speedy satisfaction; which if you deny him further, I fi nd him resolved to a desperate course unseemly and inconvenient for you both.” Turn your style, and let us hear what you can say ’gainst us Mr. Trott and dear Cousin Roger, for I set aside all and have my fi rst publication of ten essays in dedication to Anthony. A copy of the essays is sent to the Bishop of Winchester; as for these essays, and some other particulars of that nature, I count them but as the recreations of my other studies, and in that manner purpose to continue them; though I am not ignorant that these kind of writings would, with less pains and assiduity, perhaps yield more lustre and reputation

33 In Edward P. Cheyney’s A History of England, vol ii, published in 1948, it is commented how Francis Bacon, “the clearest head and the coldest heart of that age, in a letter to Essex, refers to his supremacy in England, next to the Queen, as a matter of general acknowledgement.” 34 John W. Hales: A Biography of Edmund Spenser, 1896 Lochithea 233 to my name than the others I have in hand. It deserveth to be saith that fl atterers ascribe divine honour to William Harvey who graduates from Cambridge under the established instruction of Dr. Caius, the fi rst physician in England to root in anatomy.35 Must for the most part entertain ourselves with ourselves, sadness encloses some state offence suspected of William Thomson: he attempts to burn his fl eet; her Majesty’s Council now orders the cause to be put to the manacles or the torture of the rack, as in like cases hath been used, thereby to force him to declare the truth and circumstances of his whole intent and purposes herein.36 Fit for the mountains, The Merry Wives of Windsor is prepared for the election of Lord Hunsdon, the new Lord Chamberlain, as Garter Knight. Well held be another play, Richard II.,37 and cometh to light and not to be lightly stood upon as all through this season, sees me missing arrows from the palace, my friends, and cupid: I become interested in one Elizabeth Hatton:38

My Singular Good Lord. [Essex] Your Lordship, so honourable minding my poor fortune, the last year, in the very entrance into that great action, (which is a time of less leisure;) and in so liberal an allowance, of your care, as to write three letters to stir me up friends in your absence; do the after a sort, warrant me not to object to my self our present quantity of affairs, whereby to silence my self from petition of the like favour. I break, with your Lordship, my self at the tower; and I take it, my brother, hath since renewed the same motion; touching a fortune, I was in though to attempt in genere oeconomico. In genere politico, certain cross winds have blown contrary. My suit to your Lordship is for several letters to be left with me dormant to the

35 See Lyon and Block’s Edward Coke Oracle of the Law, 1929 36 Edward P. Cheyney: A History of England, vol. i, 1948 37 Historical play fi rst published in quarto in 1597: scenes of Aumerle’s rebellion against Bolingbroke, frequently embarrassing actors and producers, were detoured with “a gem of a production” modernized and directed by Trevor Nunn at the Old Vic Theatre Company, Waterloo, between October 4 to November 26, 2005. Kevin Spacey, Artistic Director of the theatre, incarnated Richard II., and Ben Miles in the role of Bolingbroke 38 (a) When the attorney generalship fell vacant in 1593, Coke and Francis Bacon, who was supported by the Earl of Essex, became rivals for the post. Coke won the appointment in 1594 and later prevented Bacon from becoming solicitor general, or so Bacon thought. Coke’s fi rst wife, Bridget Paston, died in 1598, and four months later Bacon was his unsuccessful rival in courtship when Coke married Lady Elizabeth Hatton—Encyclopædia Britannica. (b) William Rawley, in Resuscitatio published 1657, comments that this letter “I fi nd not in his Lordship’s register book, of letters; but I am induced by the style and other characters to own them to be his.” (c) “The witchcraft of Lady Hatton, the wife of the famous Sir Christopher, so renowned for his elegant dancing in the days of Elizabeth, is as devoutly believed as the Gospels. The room is to be seen where the devil seized her after the expiration of the contract he had made with her, and bore her away bodily to the pit of Tophet: the pump against which he dashed her is still pointed out, and the spot where her heart was found, after he had torn it out of her bosom with his iron claws, have received the name of Bleedingheart Yard, in confi rmation of the dory.”—Extraordinary Popular Delusions, The Witch Mania, vol. ii, 1852 234 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals gentlewoman and either of her parents. Wherein I do not doubt but as the beams of your favour have often dissolved the coldness of my fortune; so in this argument, your Lordship will do the like with your pen. My desire is also that your Lordship would vouchsafe unto me as out of your care a general letter to my Lord Keeper, for his Lordship’s holding me from you, recommended; both in the course of my practice, and in the course of my employment, in her Majesty’s service. Wherein, if your Lordship shall in any antithesis or relation, affi rm, that his Lordship shall have no less fruit of me, than of any other, whom he may cherish; I hope your Lordship shall engage your self for no impossibility. Lastly, and chiefl y, I know not whether I shall attain to see your Lordship before your noble journey: for ceremonies are things infi nitely inferior to my love and to my zeal. This let me with your allowance say unto you by pen. It is true, that in my well-meaning advices out of my love to your Lordship and perhaps out of the state of mine own mind, I have sometimes persuaded a course differing: ac tibi pro tutis insignia facta placebunt: be it so; yet remember, that the signing of your name is nothing unless it be to some good patent or charter whereby your country may be endowed with good and benefi t. Which I speak both to move you to preserve your person for further merit and service of her Majesty and your country; and likewise, to refer this action to the same end. And so, in most true and fervent prayers, I commend your Lordship and your work in hand to the preservation and conduct of the Divine Majesty; so much the more watchful as these actions do more manifestly in shew, though alike in truth depend upon His diving providence. Fra. Bacon.

Essex, indeed, doth write to the gentlewoman’s parents from Sandwich:39 “Sir. I write this letter from the seaside ready to go abroad, and leave it with my secretary to be delivered by him to you, whence he shall know that my dear and worthy friend, Mr. Francis Bacon, is a suitor to my Lady Hatton, your daughter. What his virtues and excellent parts are you are not ignorant. What advantage you may give both to yourself and to your house by having a son-in-law so qualifi ed and so likely to rise in his profession, you may easily judge. Therefore to warrant my moving of you to incline favourably to his suit, I will only add this, that if she were my sister or daughter, I would protest I would as confi dently resolve myself to father it, as now I persuade you. And though my love to him be exceedingly great, yet, in my judgment, nothing partial; for he that knows him so well as I do, cannot but be so affected. In this farewell of mine, I pray you receive the kindest wishes of your most affectionate and assured friend.” The gentlewoman doth not teach me to forget, for she never teacheth me how to remember any extraordinary pleasures with her: she sees fi t to run marriage beside Coke. Populus vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. [The people wish to be deceived, therefore let them be deceived.] And so much for love; so much for any writ I had in my possession to offer: if it be sin, so dearly for to love thee, come bind my hands, I am thy prisoner, yet if a spark of pity may but move thee, fi rst sit upon the cause commissioner.40

39 See Hastings Lyon & Herman Block: Edward Coke Oracle of the Law, 1929 40 (a) William Percy: The fairest Coelia Sonnets, 1594 (b) Spedding: Life, ii, 1862: “Sir William Hatton died; leaving a young widow, clever, handsome, and well provided: daughter of Sir Lochithea 235

With such a smooth bearing I hear that Thomas Nashe and Ben Jonson lay in prison for the play Isle of Dogs,41 a place opposite the bank of Old Father Thames to Greenwich, home of the royal palace, Placentia, whereof her Majesty’s Privy Council is the body of advisors to the British Sovereign. Also imprisoned are Robert Shaw and Gabriel Spenser, who shall fall under the equal cloak of a dagger by Ben Jonson as James Feake had found under Spenser’s sword through the left eye in a squabble at a barber’s shop. In Thomas Nashe’s pamphlet, Lenten Stuffe, he recalls the events that he tenders over day and night, that may see the publication of it in 1599:42 “The strange turning of the Isle of Dogs from a comedy to a tragedy two summers past, with the troublesome stir which happened about it, in a general rumour that has fi lled all England, and such a heavy cross laid upon me, as had well near confounded me: I mean, not so much in that it sequestered me from my wanted means of my maintenance, which is as great a maim to any man’s happiness as can be feared from the hands of misery; or the deep pit of despair whereinto I was fallen, beyond my greatest friends reach to recover me; but that in my exile and irksome discounted abandonment, the silliest millers tomb, or contemptible stickleback of my enemies, is as busy nibbling about my fame, as if I were a dead man thrown amongst them to feed upon that infortunate imperfi t embryo of my idle hours, the Isle of Dogs before mentioned, breeding unto me such bitter throws in the teaming as it did I was so terrifi ed with my own encrease that it was no sooner born, but I was glad to run from it. An imperfi t embryo I may well call it, for I having begun but the induction and fi rst act of it, the other four acts, without my consent, or the least guess of my drift or scope by the players were supplied, which bred both their trouble and mine too.” Gabriel Spencer, Robert Shaw and Ben Jonson, arrested and sent to Marshalsea Prison. Nashe’s home is raided; his papers seized. Nashe escapes imprisonment. (Upon my man John’s release, he connects with the Admiral’s Men, for he borrows £4 of Henslowe, paying back 3s. 9d. on the same day on account of his share.43 It shall be of the autumn time of next that this connection will fall, wherein Henslowe notes to Alleyn, in a letter: “I have

Thomas Cecil, whose step-mother was Bacon’s aunt: probably therefore an early acquaintance. What sort of person she was or seemed to be in those years, I do not ﬁ nd reported. There can be no doubt that the worst disease under which Bacon was at present labouring would have been effectually relieved by a wealthy marriage; and I have no reason to suppose that this particular marriage would have been otherwise ineligible. It is certain at any rate that he did make up his mind to try his fortune with the young widow,—certain also that nothing came of it. In 1597 rumour assigned Lady Hatton to Mr. Greville, without any allusion to Bacon, and that on the 7th of November, 1598, she became the wife neither of Greville nor of Bacon, but of Coke. In after-years we shall meet her again; but at present I have no information to give about the wooing either of the successful suitor or the unsuccessful.” 41 Ben Jonson is arrested in 1605 for mentioning Isle of Dogs in his play Eastward Hoe; in another play of Thomas Nashe Summers Last Will the reference can be seen once again: “Here’s a coyle about dogges without wit. If I had thought the ship of fooles would have stayed to take in fresh water at the Ile of dogges, I would have furnished it with a whole kennel of collections to the purpose.” 42 Frank J. Burgoyne: Northumberland Manuscript Introduction., p. xxiii 43 Introduction to Ben Jonson’s The Poetaster, 1892 236 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals lost one of my company that hurteth me greatly; that is Gabriel [Spencer], for he is slain in Hogsden ﬁ elds by the hands of Benjamin Jonson, bricklayer.”) Within the Acts of the Privy Council for 1597, an account appears of a meeting held at Greenwich. A letter has been sent to Richard Topcliffe44 and four other Magistrates in the following terms: “Upon information given us of a lewd play that was played in one of the playhouses on the bank side, containing very seditious and slanderous matter, we caused some of the players to be apprehended and committed to prison; whereof one of them was not only an actor, but a maker of part of the said play. For as much as this is thought meet that the rest of the layer or actors in that matter shall be apprehended to receive such punishment as their lewd and mutinous behaviour doth deserve; these shall be, therefore, to require you to examine those of the players that are committed, whose names are known to you, Mr. Topcliffe; what this become of the rest of their fellows that either had their parts in the devising of that seditious matter, or that were actors or players in the same, what copies they have given forth of the said play, and to whom, and such other points as you shall think meet to be demanded of them; wherein you shall require them to deal truly, as they will look to receive any favour. We pray you also to peruse such papers as were found in Nashe his lodgings, which Ferrys, a messenger of the chamber, shall deliver unto you, and to certify us the examinations you take. So, etc.”45 It may well appear how play-houses are of caveat surroundings: the Lord Mayor of London calls them “ordinary places for vagrant persons, masterless men, thieves, horse- stealers, whoremongers, cozeners, cony-catchers, contrivers of treason, and other and dangerous persons.”46

44 The Council had commissioned Richard Topcliffe (notorious hunter, torturer of recusants) to investigate and apprehend those responsible to receive such punishment as their lewd and mutinous behaviour doth deserve 45 Ignatius Donnelly’s The Great Cryptogram, vol. ii, p. 628 published in 1888 bears the letter in full; Frank J. Burgoyne: Northumberland Manuscript Introduction., p. xxiii has the letter in brief 46 ibid., And of Taine’s description of the play-houses in Shakespeare’s time: “Great and rude contrivances, awkward in their construction, barbarous in their appointments; but a fervid imagination supplied all that they lacked, and hardy bodies endured all inconveniences without diffi culty. On a dirty site, on the banks of the Thames, rose the principal theatre, the Globe, a sort of hexagonal tower, surrounded by a muddy ditch, on which was hoisted a red fl ag. The common people could enter as well as the rich; there were six-penny, two-penny, even penny seats; but they could not see it without money. If it rained, and it often rains in London, the people in the pit: butchers, mercers, bakers, sailors, apprentices, received the streaming rain upon their heads. I suppose they did not trouble themselves about it; it was not so long since they began to pave the streets of London, and when men, like these, have had experience of sew- ers and puddles, they are not afraid of catching cold. While waiting for the piece, they amuse themselves after their fashion, drink beer, crack nuts, eat fruits, howl, and now and then resort to their fi sts; they have been known to fall upon the actors, and turn the theatre upside down. At other times, when they were dissatisfi ed, they went to the tavern, to give the poet a hiding, or toss him in a blanket. When the beer took effect, there was a great upturned barrel in the pit, a peculiar receptacle for general use. The smell rises, and then comes the cry, “Burn the huniper!” They burn some in a plate on the stage, and the heavy smoke fi lls the air. Certainly Lochithea 237

I do remember well when I am appointed MP for Southampton and Ipswich, speaking ’gainst enclosures, my essays reach success in England and around Europe; the edition sees a second print the same year; a year that Sir Thomas Bodley offers to restore and refi t Duke Humfrey’s Library in Oxford. My Bill for replacing the yeoman on the soil from which he hath been driven, passes with some modifi cation of title and clause by Coke. ’Tis Sunday and great attendance of nobility remains at Green Meadow near her Majesty: the Bishop of London, a great number of Councillors of State, offi cers of the crown and gentlemen. In the royal stable, of two hundred and seventy-fi ve horses with the services of more than a hundred men, is where her Majesty proclaims an offering to me of some third estate, whereof it is the rectory and church at Cheltenham, with the Chapel at Charlton Kings. Her words dissolve upon a number of trumpeters and drummers, two harpers, three lute players, eight players on the viol, six on the sackbut, three on the virginals, two on the fl ute, a rebeck player, a bagpiper, and a number of singers, minstrels and players of interludes, making up in all some eighty musicians and divers players.47 Of new books in press are Robert Tofte’s Alba The Month’s Mind of a Melancholy Lover and Francis Meres’48 Palladis Tamia: Wit’s Treasury of which he unfolds “a comparative discourse of our English poets with the Greek, Latin, and Italian poets to be best Comedies and Tragedies; Shakespeare among the English is the most excellent in both kinds for the

the folk there assembled could scarcely get disgusted at anything, and cannot have had sensitive noses. In the time of Rabelais there was not much cleanliness to speak of. Remember that they were hardly out of the Middle Ages, and that in the Middle Ages man lived on a dung- hill. A noted cut-purse, such a one as is tied to a post on the stage, for all people to wonder at, when at a play they are taken pilfring. [Kemp’s Nine Daies Wonder, 1600.] Above them, on the stage, were the spectators able to pay a shilling, the elegant people, the gentlefolk. These were sheltered from the rain, and, if they chose to pay an extra shilling, could have a stool. To this were reduced the prerogatives of rank and devises of comfort; it often happened that there were not stools enough; then they lie down on the ground; this was not a time to be dainty. They play cards, smoke, insult the pit, who give it them back without stinting, and throw apples at them into the bargain.” The scene is not much different than how Victorian spectators occupied their theatres, “crowded to suffocation. Some boys stand on the broad wooden banisters; jump on each others’ backs to obtain a good place. The walls echo with shouts and whistles. ‘Silence! Ord-a-a-r!’ A child jabs his way up into the crowd, jumps up on to the shoulders of those before him and disappears into the body of the gallery. At the foot of the staircase stands a group of boys that beg for return theatre checks. Girls’ bonnets hang over an iron railing in front. Lads in the back seats pitch orange peel and nutshells into them. A good aim is rewarded with a shout of laughter. The orchestra begins to play. It’s impossible to hear a note of music. A ﬁ ght begins and every one rises whistling and shouting. A stamping of feet; ‘Silence! Ord-a-a-r!’— Lochithea: Arrow to the Moon, 2004 47 (a) Stature Book: 39 QEI., QEII., (b) Edward P. Cheyney: A History of England, vol. i, 1948 48 Francis Meres (1565–1647) churchman and author studied at Cambridge and Oxford and became Rector of Wing in Rutland 238 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals stage; for Comedy, witness is Gentlemen of Verona, his Errors, his Love Labours Lost, his Love Labours Won,49 his Midsummer’s Night Dream, and his Merchant of Venice.” I shake of these names and of one Sir John Smyth who is liberated on bond; Essex himself comes forward as the traitor’s friend and surety. Later on, a Jewish goldsmith and moneylender sues for his bond for £300 on my departure from the Tower on business of the Learned Counsel, being the investigation of John Stanley and Valentine Thomas which allege to a conspiracy of the assassination of the Queen, by the Popish refuges in Spain. I am arrested by the sheriff.50 My anger is expressed to Robert Cecil:51

It May Please Your Honour. I humbly pray you to understand how badly I have been used by the enclosed, being a copy of a letter of complaint thereof, which I have written to the Lord Keeper. How sensitive you are of wrongs offered to your blood in my particular, I have had not long since experience. But herein I think your Honour will be doubly sensitive, in tenderness also of the indignity to her Majesty’s service. For as for me, Mr. Sympson might have had me every day in London; and therefore to delay me, while he knew I came from the Tower about her Majesty’s special service, was to my understanding very bold. And two days before he brags he before me, because I dined with sheriff More. So as with Mr. Sympson, examinations at the Tower are not so great a privilege, eundo et redeundo, as sheriff More’s dinner. But this complaint I make duty; and to that and have also informed my Lord of Essex thereof; for otherwise his punishment will do me no good. So with signiﬁ cation of my humble duty, I commend your Honour to the divine preservation. Fra. Bacon From Coleman Street.

My second letter of the occasion is to Sir Thomas Egerton, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal:

It May Please Your Lordship. I am to make humble complaint to your Lordship of some hard dealing offered me by one Sympson, a goldsmith, a man noted much, as I have heard, for extremities and stoutness upon his purse: but yet I could scarcely have imagined, he would have dealt either so dishonestly towards my self, or so contemptuously towards her Majesty’s service. For this Lombard (pardon me, I most humbly pray your Lordship, if being admonished by

49 In 1953, a two-leaf paper was found, stuck between the bindings of the spine of a copy of Thomas Gataker’s Certaine Sermons (1637). It contained a publisher’s written list from 1603 where Loves Labour Won was jotted—See the introduction written by Hibbard’s in Shakespeare’s Love’s Labour’s Lost, Oxford World Classics, 1990 50 Every shire had a sheriff, which word, being of the Saxon English, is as much as to say shire- reeve, or minister of the county. His function or offi ce is twofold, namely; one Ministerial and two Judicial 51 The letter can be found in Birch’s volume Letters of Francis Bacon, 1763 Lochithea 239 the street he swells in, I give him that name) having me in bond for £300 principal, and I having the last term confessed the action, and by his full and direct consent respited the satisfaction till the beginning of this term to come, without ever giving me warning either by letter or message, served an execution upon me, having trained me at such time as I came from the tower, where, Mr. Waad can witness, we attended a service of no mean importance. Neither would he so much as vouchsafe to come and speak with me to take any order in it, though I sent for him divers times, and his house was just by; handling it as upon a despite, being a man I never provoked with a cross word, no nor with many delays. He would have urged it to have had me in prison; which he had done, had not sheriff More, to whom I sent, gently recommended to an handsome house in Coleman Street, where I am. Now because he will not treat with me, I am enforced humbly to desire your Lordship to send for him, according to your place, to bring him to some reason; and this forthwith, because I continue here to my further discredit and inconvenience, and the trouble of the gentleman with whom I am. I have an hundred pounds lying by me, which he may have, and the rest upon some reasonable time and security; or, if need be, the whole; but with my more trouble. As for the contempt he hath offered, in regard her Majesty’s service, to my understanding, carrieth a privilege eundo et redeundo in meaner causes, much more in matters of this nature, especially in persons known to be qualifi ed with that place and employment, which, though unworthy, I am vouchsafed, I enforce nothing; thinking I have done my part when I have made it known; and so leave it to your Lordship’s honourable consideration. And so with signifi cation of my humble duty, &c. Fra. Bacon.

My release from Coleman Street comes within a few days after an arrangement is made regarding the debt. Upon my case, Coke and I blow in an altercation at the Bar of the Court of the Exchequer. This being that Coke hath taken great offence because without his consent, brief and fee, I presumed to make a motion about re-seizing the lands of a relapsed recusant in which the crown was concerned. He accosteth me by saying, “Mr. Bacon, if you have any tooth against me, pluck it out, for it will do you more hurt than all the teeth in your head will do you good.” I answer in a cold manner. “Mr. Attorney, I respect you; I fear you not: and the less you speak of your own greatness, the more I will think of it.” “I think scorn to stand upon terms of greatness towards you, who are less than little, less than the least.” He replies, adding other such strange light terms, with that insolence which cannot be expressed. I am self-possessed. “Mr. Attorney, do not depress me so far; for I have been your better, and may be again when it please the Queen.” With this, he spake neither I nor him self could tell what, as if he had been born Attorney-General, and in the end bade me not meddle with the Queen’s business but with mine own, and that I was unsworn. With this, I conclude on that “Sworn or not sworn is all one to an honest man; I have ever set my service ﬁ rst, and my self second; and I wish to God you would do the like.” 240 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

“It were good to clap a capias utlagatum52 upon your back.” He fumes. “I thank God you cannot, but you are at fault and hunt upon an old scent.” I immediately forward this account to Secretary Cecil, as one careful of his advancement and jealous of his wrongs, he dareth trust rumour in it, unless it were malicious or extreme partial.53 And into the danger of this man, Lady Hatton marries to the great admiration of all men, that after so many large and likely offers she should decline to a man of his quality, and the world will not believe that it was without a mystery.54 Pleased to shake my ears at Coke’s marriage, I turneth to the play As You Like It that is written for the marriage of the Earl of Southampton to Elizabeth Vernon; Nashe’s The Pilgrimage to Parnassus is performed for Christmas festivities. On the other, I perform to probe a mysterious crime: A Scot of many names and characters, Thomas Anderson, Thomas Alderson, Valentine Thomas, a servant, a soldier, a gentleman, confesses under our attendance in the Tower. Here is the confession, solemnly arrested.

Collection Of The Principal Points In Valentine Thomas’s Confession Concerning The Practice Against Her Majesty’s Person. Subscribed By Himself December 20, 1598.55 Valentine Thomas, otherwise called Thomas Alderson or Anderson, confesseth that his access to the King of Scotts was principally procured by on John Stewart of the Buttery, who keepeth the King’s door, and that he repaired to the King at sundry times and in sundry places; and amongst divers speeches of many things concerning the state of England and her Majesty’s person, the King fell one day into some speech of the Lord Treasurer, whom he wishes Valentine Thomas to kill, as having ever been his enemy about the Queen, which fact when Valentine undertook to execute, after some speeches how it might best be done, the King further replied, “Nay, I must have you do another thing for me, and all is one; for it is all but blood, you shall take an occasion to deliver a petition to the Queen

52 Capias Utlagatum: Is a writ that lies against a person who is outlawed in any action, by which the sheriff is commanded to apprehend the body of the party outlawed, for not appearing upon the exigent, and keep him in safe custody till the day of return, and then present him to the court, there to be dealt with for his contempt; who, in Common Pleas, was in former times to be committed to the Fleet, there to remain till he had sued out the King’s pardon and appeared to the action. And by a special capias utlagatum (against the body, lands and goods in the same writ) the sheriff is commanded to seize all the defendant’s lands, goods and chattels, for the contempt to the King; and the plaintiff (after an inquisition taken thereupon, and returned into the Exchequer) may have the lands extended and a grant of the goods, etc., whereby to compel the defendant to appear; which, when he doth, if he reverse the outlawry, the same shall be restored to him—Jacob’s Law Dictionary, vol. iv. p. 454; See the epilogue Law Sports at Gray’s Inn for a further account 53 The altercation between Lord Bacon and Coke is presumed by Spedding to be caused due to Bacon’s arrest for debts 54 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 55 W. H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861 taken from the Scottish Papers of Elizabeth, Ixii. 28, 46, 50, 52, 54; Ixiii. 13, 15,22, 29, 31, 45 Lochithea 241 in manner as you shall think good, and so may you come near to stab her.” And Valentine told the King that it was a dangerous piece of work, but he would do it, so the King would reward him thereafter, and the King said, “You shall have enough.” And after this, Valentine took his leave of the King, and said he was to go to Glasgow for a time to his kinsman’s wedding: and the King said “Go, as you say, to Glasgow, and then come again, when you hear that Sorleboy is come.” And so he left the King, and the Laird Arkinglasse came to the King. (Signed) Valentine Thomas. (Attested by) John Peyton Edw. Coke Tho. Flemyng Fr. Bacon Wm. Waad

Upon these divers alarums, a third reprint ﬁ nds my collection of ten essays. Rumour that her Majesty is given to understand how Essex hath offered his house to Anthony as a gift ’tis no pleasure on her;56 ’tis no pleasure on me that Edmund Spenser sits in a tavern in King Street, Westminster and drops dead of a broken-heart and in poverty. William Drummond of Hawthornden tells my man John that Spenser died for lack of bread in King Street, and refused 20 pieces sent to him by my Lord of Essex, and said he was sorry he had no time to spend them.57

The Legend Of The Knight Of The Red Crosse, Or Of Holiness By Edmund Spenser Lo I the man, whose Muse whilom did mask, As time her taught, in lowly Shepherds weeds, Am now enforced a far unﬁ tter task, For trumpets stern to change mine oaten reeds, And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds; Whose praises having slept in silence long, Me, all too mean, the sacred Muse areeds To blazon broad amongst her learned throng: Fierce wars and faithful loves shall moralize my song. Help then, O holy Virgin chief of nine, Thy weaker Novice to perform thy will; Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne The antique rolls, which there lie hidden still,

56 See Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) 57 George A. Wauchope’s introduction in Spenser’s The Faerie Queene, Book i, 1921 242 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Of Faerie knights and fairest Tanaquill, Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill, That I must rue his undeserved wrong: O help thou my weak wit, and sharpen my dull tongue. And thou most dreaded imp of highest Jove, Faire Venus son, that with thy cruel dart At that good knight so cunningly didst rove, That glorious ﬁ re it kindled in his heart, Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart, And with thy mother mild come to mine aid; Come both, and with you bring triumphant Mart, In loves and gentle jollities arrayed, After his murderous spoils and bloody rage allayed. And with them eke, O Goddess heavenly bright, Mirror of grace and Majesty divine, Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light Like Phœbus lamp throughout the world doth shine, Shed thy faire beams into my feeble eye, And raise my thoughts, too humble and too vile, To think of that true glorious type of thine, The argument of mine afﬂ icted stile: The which to hear, vouchsafe, O dearest dread, a-while.

I cannot allow of the way in which we settle for ourselves the duration of our life. I see that the sages contract it very much in comparison of the common opinion: “what,” said the younger Cato to those who would stay his hand from killing him self, “am I now of an age to be reproached that I go out of the world too soon?” And yet he was but eight-and-forty years old. He thought that to be a mature and advanced age, considering how few arrive unto it; and I am of eight-and-thirty years when Essex sets for Ireland in a potentially unstable situation.58 The advertisement he imparts to me, touching the State

58 Spedding: Life, ii, 1862: “A very confi dential letter of advice and warning addressed to Sir John Harington by a friend and kinsman holding some offi ce about the Court, and printed in the Nuge Antique, gives us a glimpse behind the curtain. “I hear you are to go to Ireland with the Lieutenant Essex. If so, mark my counsel.… Observe the man who commandeth, and yet is commanded himself: he goeth not forth to serve the Queen’s realm, but to humour his own revenge … If the Lord Deputy performs in the fi eld what he hath promised in the Council, all will be well; but though the Queen hath granted forgiveness for his late demeanour in her presence, we know not what to think hereof. She hath in all outward semblances placed confi dence in the man who so lately sought other treatment at her hands: we do sometime think one way and sometime another … You have now a secret from one that wisheth you all welfare and honour: I know there are overlookers set on you all, so God direct your discretion. Sir William Knolles is not well pleased, the Queen is not well pleased, the Lord Deputy may be Lochithea 243 of Ireland (for willing duties sake) opinions spring to mind as I shoot my fool’s bolt to some threat roundeth about my gown; I confer to her Majesty that my life is threatened and my name libelled, which I count an honour. But these are the practices of those, whose despairs are dangerous; but yet not so dangerous as their hopes, or else the devises of some that would put out all her Majesty’s lights and fall on reckoning how many years she hath reigned.

To Robert Cecil mine writ:59

It May Please Your Good Honour. I am apt enough to contemn mendacia famæ; yet it is with this distinction, as fame walks among inferiors, and not as it hath entrance into some ears. And yet, nevertheless, in that kind also, I intend to avoid a suspicious silence, but not to make any base apology. It is blown about the town, that I should give opinion, touching my Lord of Essex’ cause: ﬁ rst that it was a præmunire, and now last, that it reached to high treason. And this opinion should be given in opposition to the opinion of the Lord Chief Justice and of Mr. Attorney General. Sir, I thank God whatsoever opinion my head serveth me to deliver to her Majesty being asked, my heart serveth me to maintain the same honest duty directing me and assisting me. But the utter untruth of this report, God, and the Queen can witness; and the improbability of it, every man that hath wit, more or less, can conceive. The root of this I discern to be not so much a light and humorous envy that my access to her Majesty, (which of her Majesty’s grace, being begun in my ﬁ rst years, I would be sorry she should estrange in my last years,) for so I account them, reckoning by health, not by age, as a deep malice to your honourable self; upon whom, by me, through nearness they think to make some aspersion. But as I know no remedy, against libels and lies, so I hope it shall make no manner of disseverance of your honourable good conceits and affection toward me; which is the thing I confess to fear. For as for any violence to be offered to me, wherewith my friends tell me to no small terror, that I am threatened, I thank God I have the privy coat of a good conscience and have a good while since put off any fearful care of life, or the accidents of life. So desiring to be preserved in your good opinion, I remain. Fra. Bacon.

pleased now, but I sore fear what may happen hereafter.” And more in the same strain. These were conjectures no doubt, drawn from dark hints and rumours of the Court; but they were conjectures formed at the time by lookers-on not personally implicated, and when questions arise hereafter as to the objects with which Essex undertook and entered upon his task, it is ﬁ t they should be remembered.” 59 William Rawley, in Resuscitatio published 1657, comments that this letter “I ﬁ nd not in his Lordship’s register book, of letters; but I am induced by the style and other characters to own them to be his.” 244 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

And to my Lord Henry Howard:60

My Lord. There be very few besides your self, to whom I would perform this respect. For I contemn mendacia famæ, as it walks among inferior, though I neglect it not, as it may have entrance into some ear. For your Lordship’s love, rooted upon good opinion, I esteem it highly, because I have tasted of the fruits of it; and we both have tasted of the best waters in my account, to knit minds together. There is shaped a tale, in London’s forge, that beateth apace at this time; that I should deliver opinion, to the Queen, in my Lord of Essex’ cause. First, that it was a præmunire, and now last, that it reached to high treason. And this opinion, to be in opposition and encounter, of the Lord Chief Justice’s opinion, and the Attorney General’s. My Lord, (I thank God) my wit serveth me not to deliver any opinion to the Queen, which my stomach serveth me not to maintain: one, and the same, conscience of duty guiding me and fortifying me. But the untruth of this fable, God, and my Sovereign, can witness; and there I leave it: knowing no more remedy against lies than others do against libels. The root, no question of it, is partly some light-headed envy at my access to her Majesty; which being begun and continued since my childhood, as long as her Majesty shall think me worthy of them, I scorn those that shall think the contrary. And another reason is the aspersion of this tale; and the envy thereof upon some greater man, in regard of my nearness.61 And therefore, (my Lord) I pray you, answer for me to any person that you think worthy your own reply and my defence. For my Lord of Essex, I am not servile to him, having regard to my superior duty. I have been much bound unto him. And on the other side, I have spent more time and more thoughts about his well doing, than I ever did about mine own. I pray God, you his friends, amongst you be in the right. Nulla remedia, tamsaciunt dolorem, quam quæ sunt salutaria. For my part, I have deserved better than to have my name objected to envy, or my life to a rufﬁ an’s violence. But I have the privy coat of a good conscience. I am sure these courses and bruits hurt my Lord more than all. So having written to your Lordship, I desire exceedingly to be preferred in your good opinion and love. And so leave you to God’s goodness. Fra. Bacon.

With much ado doth the vulgar favour Essex, and the play Richard II., be again on the boards; I am to be interviewed, by her Majesty, in its regard. A book hath been printed that is based on the play; the author is a young doctor of civil law, John Hayward,62 a friend to me and to Essex. In the preface of the book, it likens Essex to Bolingbroke;

60 Resuscitatio, 1657 61 Robert Cecil 62 Bacon’s accomplished life of the ﬁ rst Tudor monarch, The Historie of the Raigne of King Henry the Seventh (1622), turns out to be mainly a history of the reign. But Sir Walter Raleigh suggests an explanation for this lack of biographical expression in the introduction to his History of the World (1614): “Whosoever, in writing a modern history, shall follow truth too near the heels, it may haply strike out his teeth”—as Sir John Hayward could testify, having been imprisoned Lochithea 245 it seemeth to exhort Essex to rise up ’gainst the Queen and usurp the throne. By troth, an actors’ company, in the great play have for more than a year fed the public eye with pictures of the deposition of Kings. The Queen hath her opinion: that there is treason in the book and asks me if I cannot ﬁ nd any place in it, that might be drawn within case of treason; whereto I answer; for treason surely I found none, but for felony very many. And where her Majesty hastily asks me wherein; I tell her, the author hath committed, very apparent theft, for he hath taken most of the sentences of Cornelius Tacitus, and translated them into English, and put them into his text. And so much for this matter, soon settled.63 The play Hamlet performs with success.

Sonnet 90 By William Shakespeare Then hate me when thou wilt, if ever, now, Now, while the world is bent my deeds to cross, Join with the spite of Fortune, make me bow, And do not drop in for an after-loss. Ah do not, when my heart hath ’escaped this sorrow, Come in the rearward of a conquered woe; Give not a windy night a rainy morrow To linger out a purposed overthrow. If thou wilt leave me, do not leave me last, When other petty griefs have done their spite, But in the onset come, so shall I taste At ﬁ rst the very worst of Fortune’s might, And other strains of woe, which now seem woe, Compared with loss of thee, will not seem so.

I continue with my Promus of Formularies and Elegancies; Nashe’s The First Part of the Return from Parnassus also has its performance for Christmas festivities. In the meantime, mother hath writ to Anthony: “I trust they will not mum nor mask nor sinfully revel at Gray’s Inn. Who were sometime counted ﬁ rst, God grant they wane not daily and deserve to be named last.” ’Tis by troth that the youth of Gray’s Inn are already deep in sinful consultation. Their revels, in which they excel, hath been intermitted for the last three or four years, and they are resolved to redeem the time by producing this year something out of the common way. Their device is to turn Gray’s Inn, with the consent and advice of the Readers and Ancients, into the semblance of a Court and Kingdom, and to entertain each other during the twelve days of Christmas licence with playing at Kings and Counsellors. They proceed accordingly to elect a Prince, the Prince of Purpoole. They provide him with a Privy Council for advice in matters of state; with a presence-chamber for audience,

in the Tower of London because his account (1599) of Richard II’s deposition, two centuries earlier, had aroused Queen Elizabeth’s anger 63 Extracts from The Apology of Francis Bacon 246 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and a Council Chamber for business; with all offi cers of state, law, and household; with gentlemen pensioners to wait on his person, and a guard, with a captain of the guard, to defend it. They raise treasure for the support of his state and dignity, partly by a benevolence, which is granted by those who are present, and partly by letters in the nature of Privy Seals which are then directed to those who are away. But it is too late for praying. They send to their ancient allied friend, the Inner Temple, a formal communication of their proceedings, with request that an Ambassador from that state might be sent to reside amongst them; which is with equal formality accorded, as ancient amity and league required and deserved. In December, the Prince with all his state, after the pattern of a royal procession exactly marshalled, proceedeth to the Great Hall of Gray’s Inn, and takes his seat on the throne. The trumpets sound thrice, the King-at-arms proclaim his style and blazon his arms; the Champion rides in full armour and throw down his gage in defi ance of all disputers; the Attorney maketh his speech of congratulation; the Solicitor recites the names of all homagers and tributaries, with the nature of their tenures and services (a recital which gives occasion to many jocose allusions, veiled under legal phraseology, and many of them much in need of a veil to the manners, customs, and occupations of the several suburban localities), and summons them to appear and do homage. A Parliament, which is to be held, is given up, owing to the necessary absence of some special offi cers; but as a subsidy is obtained and a general pardon granted notwithstanding, the jest is rather improved perhaps than injured by the omission. The pardon is read at full length; an elaborate burlesque, beginning with a proclamation of free pardon for every kind of offence for which a name could be invented, and ending with a long list of cases excepted, which does in fact include every offence which could possibly be committed. Then the Prince, having made a short speech to his subjects, calls his Master of the Revels, and the evening ends with dances.

What is this news? A decree is demanded by Master White-Gift: no Satires or Epigrams be printed hereafter; thus include: Joseph Hall’s Virgidemiarum; John Marston’s Pigmalians Image and The Scourge of Villanie; Guilpin’s Skialetheia; Thomas Middleton’s Microcynicon; Sir John Davies’ Epigrammes; Thomas Cutwode’s Caltha Poetarum and the book against women viz, of Marriage and Wiving and the XV Joys of Marriage. No English histories be printed, except they be allowed by some of her Majesty’s Privy Council; no plays be printed except they be allowed by such as have authority; all Nashe’s books and Doctor Harvey’s books be taken wheresoever they may be found and that none of their books be ever printed hereafter.

How wine changes its fl avour and complexion in cellars, according to the changes and seasons of the vine from whence it came. Stand a little aside, that the sun may come to me and do not to pray that all things may go as we would have them, for Essex commands great armies in Ireland; his thoughts cross to Wales with 2.000 men and march into London; tongues wag on uncertain rumours eagerly credited of a mighty and well appointed Spanish fl eet that is at hand; that it has been seen on the western coast, and was Lochithea 247 doubtful for what part it is designed. Whether the Queen has any secret intimation of this, it is certain that at this very time, 6.000 of the best-trained infantry are raised at London, of which 3.000 are to guard the Queen’s person and the rest to be ready for all occasions; couriers are sent continually to the Court, nay, a royal army, under command of Charles Howard, Earl of Nottingham, Admiral of England, is made Commander-in-Chief, with full authority as well ’gainst foreign enemies as domestic rebels. Moreover, a take is given out by which even the wiser sort might well be taken in: viz. that the King of Spain, who has not forgotten the voyage to Portugal in which the same Essex has been engaged, when he is informed that so great an army has been set forth to suppress the Irish rebellion, under so eminent and prosperous a commander, falls into suspicion that it is designed, under pretext of Irish matters, to invade some part of Spain: and therefore gets together a numerous fl eet and also land forces for the defence of his own dominions: but that when he fi nds that the army was in truth sent over to Ireland and occupied with work there, he is advised by his Council, seeing that he has gathered together such a fl eet and force with great charge and trouble and has them ready, not to discharge them without doing some service; but to strike a blow at England; the rather because the fl ower of the English army has been sent over with Essex, and the Queen expects nothing of the kind at this time. Now all this is done to the end that Essex, hearing that the Kingdom is in arms, might be deterred from any attempt to bring the Irish army over into England. And yet these devise of the Queen are even by the vulgar suspected and taken in bad part; insomuch that they forbore not from scoffs, saying that in the year ’88 Spain had sent an Invincible Armada ’gainst us and now she has sent an Invisible Armada; and muttering that if the Council has celebrated this kind of May-game64 in the beginning of May, it might have been thought more suitable, but to call the people away from the harvest for it was too serious a jest. But the Admiral’s army is within a few days discharged, and it is probable that the Queen has some secret intimation of this design.65

Francis Bacon Essay XXXVIII. Of Nature In Men. Nature is often hidden; sometimes overcome; seldom extinguished. Force maketh nature more violent in the return; doctrine and discourse maketh nature less importune; but custom only doth alter and subdue nature. He that seeketh victory over his nature, let him not set him self too great nor too small tasks; for the fi rst will make him dejected by often failings; and the second will make him a small proceeder, though by often prevailings. And at the fi rst let him practise with helps, as swimmers do with bladders or rushes; but after a time let him practise with disadvantages, as dancers do with thick shoes. For it breeds great perfection, if the practice be harder than the use. Where nature is mighty, and therefore the victory hard, the degrees had need be, fi rst to stay and arrest nature in time; like to him that would say over the four and twenty letters when he was angry; then to go less in quantity; as if one should, in forbearing wine, come from drinking healths to a draught at a meal; and lastly, to discontinue altogether. But if a man have the fortitude and resolution to enfranchise himself at once, that is the best:

64 See Fuller’s Church History, ix. 41 judging Bacon on his use of “May-game” 65 Spedding: Works, vol. xii. p. 57–61 248 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Optimus ille animi vindex lædentia pectus Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel. [Wouldst thou be free? The chains that gall thy breast With one strong effort burst, and be at rest.]

Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend nature as a wand to a contrary extreme, whereby to set it right; understanding it, where the contrary extreme is no vice. Let not a man force a habit upon himself with perpetual continuance, but with some intermission. For both the pause reinforceth the new onset; and if a man that is not perfect be ever in practice, he shall as well practise his errors his abilities, and induce one habit of both; and there is no means to help this but by seasonable intermissions. But let not a man trust his victory over his nature too far; for nature will lay buried a great time, and yet revive upon the occasion or temptation. Like as it was with Æsop’s damsel, turned from a cat to a woman, who sat very demurely at the board’s end, till a mouse ran before her. Therefore let a man either avoid the occasion altogether; or put himself often to it, that he may be little moved with it. A man’s nature is best perceived in privateness, for there is no affectation; in passion, for that putteth a man out of his precepts; and in a new case or experiment, for there custom leaveth him. They are happy men whose natures sort with their vocations; otherwise they may say, multum incola fuit anima mea, [my soul hath been a stranger and a so journer;] when they converse in those things they do not affect. In studies, whatsoever a man commandeth upon himself, let him set hours for it; but whatsoever is agreeable to his nature, let him take no care for any set times; for his thoughts will ﬂ y to it of themselves; so as the spaces of other business or studies will sufﬁ ce. A man’s nature runs either to herbs or weeds; therefore let him seasonably water the one, and destroy the other. Trials Be Trials 1600 (01) of the age thirty-nine to 1610 of the age fourty-nine

Pa rt I

Some circumstantial evidence is very strong, as when you ﬁ nd a trout in the milk. —Henry David Thoreau1

I make no doubt but that I often happen to speak of things that are much better and more truly handled by those who are masters of the trade: new works surface with Dowland’s poems:

The Retired Courtier2 His golden locks hath Time to silver turned; O time too swift! O swiftness never ceasing! His youth against time and age hath ever spurned, But spurned in vain; youth waneth by increasing. Beauty, strength, youth, are ﬂ owers but fading seen, Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green. His helmet now shall make a hive for bees, And lovers’ sonnets turn to holy psalms, A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees, And feed on prayers which are age’s alms; But though from court to cottage he depart,

1 Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862) American essayist, poet, and practical philosopher, renowned for having lived the doctrines of Transcendentalism as recorded in his masterwork, Walden (1854), and for having been a vigorous advocate of civil liberties, as evidenced in the essay Civil Disobedience (1849)—Encyclopædia Britannica 2 John Dowland (1562–1626) English composer, virtuoso lutenist, and skilled singer. Between 1609 and 1612 he entered the service of Theophilus, Lord Howard de Walden, and in 1612 he was appointed one of the “musicians for the lutes” to James I. Mrs. Pott in her Promus states that this poem was probably written by Lord Bacon

249 250 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

His saint is sure of his unspotted heart. And when he saddest sits in homely cell, He’ll teach his swains this carol for a song: Blest be the hearts that wish my sovereign well! Curst be the soul that thinks her any wrong! Goddess, allow this aged man his right, To be your beadsman now that was your knight.

The play As You Like It and Much Ado follow to the boards. At Haycock’s Ordinary, of a tavern in the Strand where many Parliament gentlemen and gallants rest to dine, my ear catches of one work, Kemps Nine Daies Wonder by a William Kemp, wherein is somewhat set down worth note to reprove the slanders spread of him: many things merry, nothing hurtful. Written by him self to satisfy his friends, and of that ending:3

My notable Shakerags, the effect of my suit is discovered in the title of my supplication; but for our better understandings, for that I know you to be a sort of witless beetle-heads that can understand nothing but what is knocked into your scalps, these are by these presents to certify unto your block-headships, that I, William Kemp, whom you had near hand sent in sunder with your unreasonable rhymes, am shortly, God willing, to set forward as merrily as I may; whether I myself know not. Wherefore, by the way, I would wish ye, imploy not your little wits in certifying the world that I am gone to Rome, Jerusalem, Venice, or any other place at your idle appoint. I know the best of ye, by the lies you writ of me, got not the price of a good hat to cover your brainless heads: if any of ye had come to me, my bounty should have exceeded the best of your good masters the Ballad-buyers, I would have apparelled your dry pates in party coloured bonnets, and bestowed a leash of my cast bells to have crowned ye with cox-combs. I have made a privy search what private jigmonger4 of your jolly number hath been the Author of these abominable ballets written of me. I was told it was the great ballet-maker T.D., alias Tho Deloney,5 Chronicler of the memorable lives of the six yeomen of the west, Jack of Newbery, the Gentle-craft, and

3 “Kemp belonged to the company of Edward Allen, or Alleyn and afterwards to have joined the Lord Chamberlain’s Servants who played at the Globe and at Blackfriars. Amongst the parts, which Kemp played, are those of Peter and Dogberry in Romeo and Juliet and Much Ado about Nothing. He also played Launce in Two Gentlemen of Verona, Touchstone in As You Like It, the gravedigger in Hamlet, Justice Shallow in the second part of Henry IV., and Launcelot in the Merchant of Venice. On November 2, 1603, Kemps’ name does not appear in the licence granted by King James I., in that year to the Lord Chamberlain’s Company; he may have been carried off by the plague in that year.”—Extract from Edmund Goldsmid’s introduction in the pamphlet of Kemps’ Nine Daies Wonder, 1600 privately published in 1884 4 Ballad-maker 5 “Thomas Deloney, in 1596, had he not eluded the search of the Mayor of London, he would have been punished for writing a certain ballad, containing a complaint of great want and scarcity of corn within the realm, bringing in the Queen speaking with her people dialoguewise, in very fond and indecent sort.”—Edmund Goldsmid’s footnote in the pamphlet of Kemps’ Nine Daies Wonder, 1600 privately published in 1884 Lochithea 251 such like honest men, omitted by Stow, Hollinshead, Grafton, Hal, Froysart, and the rest of those well deserving writers; but I was given since to understand your late general Tho died poorly, as ye all must do, and was honestly buried, which is much to be doubted of some of you. The quest of inquiry fi nding him by death acquitted of the inditement, I was let to wit yet another Lord of little wit, one whose imployment for the Pageant was utterly spent, he being known to be Elderton’s immediate heir,6 was vehemently suspected; but after due inquisition was made, he was at that time known to live like a man in a mist, having quite given over the mystery.7 Still the search continuing, I met a proper upright youth, only for a little stooping in the shoulders, all heart to the heel, a penny Poet, whose fi rst making8 was the miserable stolen story of Macdoel, or Macdobeth,9 or Macsomewhat, for I am sure a Mac it was, though I never had the maw to see it; and he told me there was a fat fi lthy ballet-maker, that should have once been his Journeyman to the trade, who lived about the town, and ten to one but he had thus terribly abused me and my Taberer, for that he was able to do such a thing in print. A shrewd presumption! I found him about the bankside,10 sitting at a play; I desired to speak with him, had him to a Tavern, charged a pipe with tobacco, and then laid this terrible accusation to his charge. He swells presently, like one of the four winds; the violence of his breath blew the tobacco out of the pipe, and the heat of his wrath drunk dry two bowlfuls of Rhenish wine. At length having power to speak, “Name my accuser,” saith he, “or I defy thee, Kemp, at the quart staff.” I told him; and all his anger turned to laughter, swearing it did him good to have ill words of a hoddy doddy,11 a habber de hoy,12 a chicken, a squib, a squall,13 one that hath not wit enough to make a ballet, that, by Pol and Aedipol, would Pol his father, Derick14 his dad, do any thing, how ill soever, to please his apish humour. I hardly believed this youth that I took to be gracious had been so graceless; but I heard afterwards his mother-in-law was eye and ear witness of his father’s abuse by this blessed child on a public stage, in a merry Hoast of an Inn’s part. Yet all this while could not I fi nd out the true ballet-maker, till by chance a friend of mine pulled out of his pocket a book in Latin, called Mundus Furiosus, printed at

6 Anthony Munday: a player, apprentice to a printer, retainer of the Earl of Oxford, messenger of her Majesty’s chamber, poet, dramatist, writer and draper 7 Art, trade 8 Poetical composition 9 “This mention of a piece anterior to Shakespeare’s tragedy on the same subject has escaped the commentators.”—Edmund Goldsmid’s footnote in the pamphlet of Kemps’ Nine Daies Wonder, 1600 privately published in 1884 10 Southwark where the theatres were situated 11 A term of contempt also used in Ben Jonson’s Every Man in his Humour 12 Half a man, half a boy 13 “Poor effeminate creature. Middleton seems to use it in the sense of wench.”—Edmund Goldsmid’s footnote in the pamphlet of Kemps’ Nine Daies Wonder, 1600 privately published in 1884 14 “Hang,—the name of the common hangman, when this tract was written; he is frequently mentioned in our old plays.”—ibid., 252 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Cullen, written by one of the wildest and arrantest lying Cullians15 that ever writ book, his name Jansonius, who, taking upon him to write an abstract of all the turbulent actions that had been lately attempted or performed in Christendome, like an unchristian wretch, writes only by report, partially, and scoffi ngly of such whose pages shows he was unworthy to wipe, for indeed he is now dead: farewell he! every dog must have a day. But see the luck on’t: this beggarly lying busy-bodies name brought out the Ballad-maker,16 and, it was generally confi rmed, it was his kinsman: he confesses himself guilty, let any man look on his face; if there be not so red a colour that all the soap in the town will not wash white, let me be turned to a Whiting as I pass between Dover and Calais. Well, God forgive thee, honest fellow, I see thou hast grace in thee; I pray thee do so no more, leave writing these beastly ballets, make not good wenches Prophetesses, for little or no profi t, nor for a six-penny matter revive not a poor fellow’s fault that is hanged for his offence; it may be thy own destiny one day; pray thee be good to them. Call up thy old Melpomene, whose strawberry quill may write the bloody lines of the blue Lady, and the Prince of the burning crown; a better subject, I can tell ye, than your Knight of the Red Crosse.17 So, farewell, and cross me no more, I pray thee, with thy rabble of bald rhymes, least at my return I set a cross on thy forehead that all men may know thee for a fool. William Kemp.

An Excellent Dream of Ladies and their Riddles By Nicholas Breton18 Within a gallant plot of ground, There grows a fl ower that hath no name, The like whereof was never found, And none but one can pluck the same: Now where this ground or fl ower doth grow, Or who that one, tis hard to know. This ground, this fl ower, and happy man, Walk in this garden to and fro; Here you shall see them now and then: Which when you fi nd to your delight, Then think I hit your riddle right.

15 Scoundrels 16 “Kemp, I conceive, alludes here to Richard Johnson, who is still remembered by his Famous Historie of the Seven Champions of Christendome in two parts, of which the earliest extant edition was printed in 1608.”—Edmund Goldsmid’s footnote in the pamphlet of Kemps’ Nine Daies Wonder, 1600 privately published in 1884 17 See William Morgan’s The Mysteries of Free Masonry of opening a lodge of entered apprentice masons including the Knight of the Red Crosse 18 Nicholas Breton (1545–1626) from The Phoenix Nest published in 1600 Lochithea 253

A blow with a word doth strike deeper than a blow with a sword Reader; some other book riseth to wit: William Gilbert’s De Magnete;19 a gentleman and Court physician to her Majesty. In his work, he proposes that the earth is a giant magnet, with poles at either geographical pole; his much enthusiastic arguments are that the earth rotates about its axis because of terrestrial magnetism: in explaining his extended generalisations of this phenomena, is greatly emphasised.

Summers’ Last Will and Testament Autumn hath all the summer’s fruitful treasure; Gone is our sport, ﬂ ed is poor pleasure! Short days, sharp days, long nights come on apace; Ah! who shall hide us from the winter’s face? Cold doth increase, the sickness will not cease, And here we lie, God knows, with little ease: From winter, plague and pestilence, Good Lord, deliver us! London doth mourn, Lambeth is quite forlorn, Trades cry, Woe worth that ever they were born; The want of term is town and city’s harm. Close chambers we do want, to keep us warm; Long banished must we live from our friends: This low-built house will bring us to our ends. From winter, plague and pestilence, Good Lord, deliver us! Thomas Nash

O stupid and tasteless age. At Gray’s Inn, divers plots and devices we arrange. Order is taken to prevent overcrowding and confusion. A great number of great persons, among them the Lord Keeper, the Lord Treasurer, the Vice-Chamberlain, and several other Privy Councillors come. When all are seated, the Prince comes in full state and takes his throne. The Ambassador from Templaria follows with his train, and is placed by the Prince’s side; and the performance begins, after the fashion of those entertainments, with a dumb show; the object of which is to represent the reconciliation between Gray’s Inn and the Temple, which hath been disturbed by the Night of Errors. The show being ended, the Prince in token of satisfaction investeth the Ambassador and twenty-four of his retinue, with the Collar of the Knighthood of the Helmet; upon which the King-at-Arms, having ﬁ rst declared how the Prince had instituted this Order in memory of the arms he bore, which

19 William Gilbert (1544–1603) his De Magnete was written ten years before Galileo published his Starry Messenger, 1610 254 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals were given to one of his ancestors for saving the life of the then Sovereign, in regard that as the helmet defendeth the chiefest part of the body, the head, so did he then defend the head of the State; he proceedeth to read the articles of the Order; which they were all to vow to keep, each kissing the helmet as he took his vow. The ceremony of investiture is followed by a variety of consort-music and a running banquet served by the Knights of the Helmet who are not strangers: and so this part of the entertainment ends.20 It is in scribble, under Silius Italicus, that it is formerly the custom to enliven banquets with slaughter, and to combine with the repast the dire spectacle of men contending with the sword, the dying in many cases falling upon the cups, and covering the tables with blood. But enough of these toys!

Francis Bacon Essay X Of Love. The stage is more beholding to love, than the life of man. For as to the stage, love is ever matter of comedies, and now and then of tragedies; but in life it doth much mischief; sometimes like a siren, sometimes like a fury. You may observe, that amongst all the great and worthy persons (whereof the memory remaineth, either ancient or recent,) there is not one that hath been transported to the mad degree of love: which shews that great spirits and great business do keep out this weak passion. You must except nevertheless Marcus Antonius, the half partner of the empire of Rome, and Appius Claudius, the decemvir [board of commissioners at Rome] and lawgiver; whereof the former was indeed a volup- tuous man, and inordinate; but the latter was an austere and wise man: and therefore it seems (though rarely) that love can fi nd entrance not only into an open heart, but also into a heart well fortifi ed, if watch be not well kept. It is a poor saying of Epicurus, Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum sumus; [Each is to other a theatre large enough]; as if man, made for the contemplation of heaven and all noble objects, should do nothing but kneel before a little idol, and make himself a subject, though not of the mouth (as beasts are), yet of the eye; which was given him for higher purposes. It is a strange thing to note the excess of this passion, and how it braves the nature and value of things, by this; that the speaking in a perpetual hyperbole is comely in nothing but in love. Neither is it merely in the phrase; for whereas it hath been well said that the arch-fl atterer, with whom all the petty fl atterers have intelligence, is a man’s self; certainly the lover is more. For there was never proud man thought so absurdly well of himself as the lover doth of the person loved; and therefore it was well said, that it is impossible to love and to be wise. Neither doth this weakness appear to others only, and not to the party loved; but to the loved most of all, except the love be reciproque. For it is a true rule, that love is ever rewarded either with reciproque or with an inward and secret contempt. By how much the more men ought to beware of this passion, which loseth not only other things, but itself. As for the other losses, the poet’s relation doth well fi gure them; that he that preferred Helena, quitted the gifts of Juno and Pallas. For whosoever esteemeth too much of amorous affection quitteth both riches and wisdom. This passion hath his fl oods in the very times of weakness; which are great prosperity and great adversity; though this latter hath been less observed: both which times kindle love, and make it more fervent, and therefore shew it to be the child of

20 Spedding: Works, vol. vi, 1861 Lochithea 255 folly. They do best, who if they cannot but admit love, yet make it keep quarter; and sever it wholly from their serious affairs and actions of life; for if it check once with business, it troubleth men’s fortunes, and maketh men that they can no ways be true to their own ends. I know not how, but martial men are given to love: I think it is but as they are given to wine; for perils commonly ask to be paid in pleasures. There is in man’s nature a secret inclination and motion towards love of others, which if it be not spent upon some one or a few, doth naturally spread itself towards many, and maketh men become humane and charitable; as it is seen sometime in friars. Nuptial love maketh mankind; friendly love perfecteth it; but wanton love corrupteth and embaseth it.

Being about the middle of Michaelmas Term, her Majesty hath a purpose to dine at my Lodge at Twickenham Park. The wonderful and divine gardens and herberies capture her; the rich soil that cause all sorts of fruit and fl owers to fl ourish in thick luxuriance. Here is where I study nature in all her beauty beneath the shady tress, and the long bosky path- ways, and serene quietude of the perfumed herb garden, while the river glides by shinning in the sun; I can listen to the song of the birds, and marvel over the colour of the fl owers, which I describe so well in my essay Of Gardens and in my works of Sylva Sylvarum.21 It is here that I plant the alder trees to strengthen the riverbank;22 and it is here, at Twickenham Park Lodge, that I command and oversee the Verulamium Workshop. My penman, Thomas Hobbes,23 walks beside me with paper and quill; writs down any notion that comes forth of my wits; ’tis Hobbes’ notes that are gentle to my wit, for other pens I can scarce understand their writ because they understand it not themselves. Hobbes also assists in the translation of my essay Of the Greatness of Cities into the Latin. To return to her Majesty’s visit: I profess not to be a poet, yet prepare a sonnet24 directly tending and alluding to draw on her Majesty’s reconcilement to my lord Essex, which I remember, I shew to a great person,25 and one of my Lord Essex’ nearest friends, who commends it: this, though it be, as I said, but a toy, yet it shows plainly in what spirit I proceed, and that I am ready not only to do my Lord Essex good offi ces, but to publish and declare myself for him; and never is so ambitious of any thing in my life time, as I am to

21 “The name Sylva Sylvarum seems to be a Hebraism for optima sylva. I should rather take it to mean a collection of collections; that is, a variety of Sylvæ (or collections of facts relating to particular subjects) gathered together.”—James Spedding 22 Alice Chambers Bunten: Francis Bacon and Twickenham Park 23 Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679) a philosopher—See Aubrey’s Brief Lives 24 Why is my verse so empty of new ornamentation, so far from variety or life? As time passes, why don’t I dart aside to methodical ways, to harsh or strange words? Why constantly write the same way, as Queen Elizabeth I’s motto states Ever The Same and keep creating till I am used to it, every word to almost relate my name, showing their position, and whence they went? O know, sweet love, I always write of you, and you and love are still my argument; so the best I can do is to rewrite old words, retelling what has already been told, just like the sun ups and downs each day, so my love, still expresses what has been said 25 Daphne du Maurier suggests this could be the Earl of Southampton, William Shakespeare’s patron 256 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals have carried some token or favour from her Majesty to my Lord, using all the art I hath, both to procure her Majesty to send, and my self to be the messenger: for as to the former, I fear not to allege to her, that this proceeding toward my Lord, is a thing towards the people very implausible, and therefore wish her Majesty however she did, yet to discharge her self of it, and lay it upon others; and therefore that she should intermix her proceeding with some immediate graces from her self, that the world might take knowledge of her princely nature and goodness, lest it should alienate the hearts of her people from her, which I do stand upon, knowing well that if she once relented to send or visit, those demonstration would prove matter of substance for my Lord’s good.

Sonnet to Queen Elizabeth I.26 By Francis Bacon The quality of mercy is not strained, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed, it blesseth him that gives, and him that takes, ’Tis mightiest in the mightiest, It becomes the throned Monarch better then his Crown.

And to draw that employment upon my self, I advise her Majesty, that whensoever God shall move her to turn the light of her favours towards Essex, to make signifi cation to him thereof: that her Majesty, if she did it not in person, would at the least use some such mean as might not entitle themselves so any part of the thanks, as persons that were thought mighty with her to work her, or to bring her about; but to use some such as could not be thought but a mere conduct of her own goodness: but I could never prevail with her, though I am persuaded she see plainly whereat I level: but she plainly hath me in jealousy, that I was not hers entirely, but still had inward and deep respects towards my Lord, more than stood at that time with her will and pleasure.27 But the poet speaketh not of sheep, but of lambs; endure them with patience Reader. The principal of moderation in morals is represented by the ancients in the path which Icarus was directed to take through the air; the same principle in relation to the intellect, by that passage between Scylla and Charybdis, so famous for its diffi culty and danger. Icarus was instructed by his father to beware, when he came to fl y over the sea, of taking either too high or too low a course. For his wings being fi xed on with wax, the fear was that if he rose too high the wax would be melted by the sun’s heat; if he kept down too near the vapour of the sea, it would lose its tenacity by the moisture. Icarus, in the adventurous spirit of youth, made for the heights, and so fell headlong down.28 Upon such manner, a writ leaveth for Essex:

26 According to Daphne du Maurier in her Golden Lads this is the Sonnet that Lord Bacon wrote on that occasion; no citation is given 27 Extracts from The Apology of Francis Bacon 28 Francis Bacon: Of the Wisdom of the Ancients, xxvii: The ﬂ ight of Icarus Lochithea 257

My Lord. No man can better expound my doings better than your Lordship, which maketh me need to say the less. Only, I humbly pray you to believe that I aspire to the conscience and commendation fi rst of bonus civis, and bonus vir; and that though I love some things better, (I confess) than I love your Lordship, yet I love few persons better; both for gratitudes sake and for your own virtues, which cannot hurt, but by accident; of which my good affection it may please your Lordship, to assure your self; and of all the true effects and offi ces I can yield. For as I was ever sorry your Lordship should fl y with waxen wings, doubting Icarus’ fortune, so for the growing up of your own feathers, be they ostriches, or other kind, no man shall be more glad. And this is the axletree whereupon I have turned and shall turn. Which having already signifi ed to you, by some near mean, having so fi t a messenger for mine own letter, I thought good also to redouble by writing. And so I commend you to God’s protection. Fra. Bacon.

For matters of courtesy, he replieth:29

Mr. Bacon. I can neither expound nor censure your late actions, being ignorant of all of them, save one, and having directed my sight inward only, to examine myself. You do pray me to believe that you only aspire to the conscience and commendation of bonus civis and bonus vir; and I do faithfully assure you, that while that is your ambition (though your course be active and mine contemplative), yet we shall both convenire in eodem tertio and convenire inter nos- ipsos. Your profession of affection and offer of good offi ces are welcome to me. For answer to them I will say but this, that you have believed I have been kind to you, and you may believe that I cannot be other, either upon humour or my own election. I am a stranger to all poetical conceits, or else I should say somewhat of your poetical example. But this I must say; that I never fl ew with other wings than desire to merit and confi dence in my Sovereign’s favour; and when one of these wings failed me I would light nowhere but at my Sovereign’s feet, though she suffered me to be bruised with my fall. And till her Majesty, that knows I was never bird of prey, fi nds it to agree with her will and her service that my wings should be imped again, I have committed myself to the mire. No power but my God’s and my Sovereign’s can alter this resolution of your retired friend. Essex.

29 (a) R.W. Church: English Men of Letters; vol. vi, 1894 (b) Resuscitatio, 1657 258 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

My hand scribbles for Essex to her Majesty:30

It May Please Your Majesty. It were great simplicity in me, to look for better than that your Majesty should cast away my letter, as you have done me; were it not that it is possible your Majesty will think to ﬁ nd somewhat in it, whereupon your displeasure may take hold, and so indignation may obtain that of you which favour could not. Neither mought I, in reason, presume to offer unto your Majesty dead lines, my self being excluded as I am, were it not upon this only argument or subject; namely to clear my self in point of duty. Duty, though my state lie buried in the sands. And my favours be cast upon the waters, and my honours be committed to the wind, yet standeth surely built upon the rock, and hath been and ever shall be, unforced and unattempted. And therefore since the world out of error, and your Majesty I fear out of art, is pleased to put upon me, that I have so much as any election or will in this my absence from attendance; I cannot but leave this protestation with your Majesty, that I am, and have been, merely a patient and take my self only to obey and execute your Majesty’s will. And indeed, madam, I had never thought it possible that your Majesty could have so disinterested your self of me; not that you had been so perfect in the art of forgetting, not that after a quintessence of Wormwood, your Majesty would have taken so large a draught of poppy; as to have passed so many summers without all feeling of my sufferings. But the only comfort I have is this that I know your Majesty taketh delight and contentment in executing this disgrace upon me. And since your Majesty can ﬁ nd no other use of me, I am glad yet I can serve for that. Thus making my most humble petition to your Majesty, that in justice, (howsoever you may by strangeness untie, or by violence cut asunder all other knots,) your Majesty would not touch me, in that which is indissoluble; that is point of duty: and that your Majesty will pardon this my unwarranted presumption of writing, being so much an end, I cease in all humbleness. Your Majesty’s poor and never so unworthy servant. Essex.

Publishing and accusing our own imperfections, some one will learn to be afraid of them; for Gowrie House, in Perth, is under the guidance of Master Ruthven and the Earl of Gowrie: the King hath escaped an assassination ’gainst his person as my appointment as a Double Reader at Gray’s Inn is sealed; I know that it is owing to justice that man is a god to man, and not a wolf.31 But the debts do not recede and Michael Hicks, Robert Cecil’s secretary, is well witness to a bond for easing a difﬁ cult period:

30 William Rawley, in Resuscitatio published 1657, comments on this letter: “I ﬁ nd not in his Lordship’s register book, of letters; but I am induced by the style and other characters to own them to be his.” 31 Francis Bacon: The Dignity and Advancement of Learning, book vi Lochithea 259

Mr. Hicks. I am now about this term to free my self from all debts which are in any ways in suit or urged, following a faster pace to free my credit than my means can follow to free my state, which yet cannot stay longer after, I having resolved to spare no means I have in hand, taking other possibilities for advantage, to clear my self from the discontent of speech or danger from others. And some of my debts of most clamour and importunity I have this term and some few days before ordered and in part paid. I pray you to your former favours which I do still remember and may hereafter requite, help me out with £200 more for six months. I will put you in good sureties, and you shall do me a great deal of honesty and reputation. I have writ to you the very truth and secret of my course, which to few others I would have done, thinking it may move you. Your assured loving friend. Fra. Bacon.

How uncertain duration these accidental conveniences are: Uncle Burghley feasts the Duke of Bracciano; a past favour in Italy for the Cecils; the Gray’s Inn prepares some entertainment, alas, the Duke of Bracciano hastens his departure. Her Majesty offers a cup of gold of sixscore pound and a jewel, for the which he giveth the bringer [Stanhope] a chain of fourscore pound.32 On the boards goeth Richard II., at the Globe Theatre; Nashe’s The Second Part of the Return from Parnassus performs for Christmas festivities; Ben Jonson’s Poetaster, that taketh him ﬁ fteen weeks to accomplish, is performed by the Children of the Chapel.33 In solitude doth Essex keep him self at home and giving himself wholly to the service of God; on conversing with him I tell him that he should not be wanting to him self, his friends, and his country, that the Commonwealth should unite those whom different affections had disjoined; that he should not cover his private wounds with the mischief’s of the Commonwealth; that he should yield unto the time; that he should humbly sue for the Queen’s favour, who had been most bountiful to him, and not give her adversaries cause to triumph over him. He hears me with dislike; and answers that I expect a harvest, though a tempest is arisen. If he want to his self, and his friends, and his country it long of others, not of him. The Queen hath thrust him down into a private life; he hath been unjustly committed to custody. Princes have not an inﬁ nite power. They make err with others and it is Anthony that gives charge over my emotional manners with his following writ to Essex:34

My Singular Good Lord. This standing at a stay in your Lordship’s fortunes doth make me in my love towards your Lordship jealous lest you do somewhat or omit somewhat that amounteth to a new error. For I suppose of all former matters, there is a full expiation: wherein for any thing that

32 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1965 33 Introduction to Ben Jonson’s The Poetaster, 1892 34 Resuscitatio, 1657 260 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals your Lordship doth, I, for my part, (who am remote) cannot cast, nor devise, wherein any error should be, except in one point, which I dare not censure, nor dissuade: which is, that (as the prophet saith) in this affl iction, you look up, ad manum percutientem, and so make your peace with God. And yet I heard it noted, that my Lord of Leicester, (who could never get to be taken for a Saint, nevertheless in the Queen’s disfavour) waxed seeming religious: which may be thought by some, and used by others, as a case resembling yours; if men do not see or will not see the difference between your two dispositions. But to be plain with your Lordship, my fear rather is, because I hear how some of your good, and wise friends, not unpractised in the Court, and supposing themselves not to be unseen in that deep and inscrutable centre of the Court, which is her Majesty’s mind, do not only toll the bell, but even ring out peals, as if your fortune were dead and buried. And as if, there were no possibility on recovering her Majesty’s favour, and as if, the best of your condition were to live a private and retired life, out of want out of peril and out of manifest disgrace. And so in this persuasion of theirs, include a persuasion to your Lordship to frame, and accommodate your actions and mind to that end: I fear, that this untimely despair, may in time bring forth a just despair by causing your Lordship to slacken and break off your wise, loyal and seasonable endeavours and industries for reintegration to her Majesty’s favour: in comparison whereof, all other circumstances are but as Atomi; or rather, as Vacuum, without any substance at all. Against this opinion, it may please your Lordship to consider of these reasons, which I have collected; and to make judgement of them; neither out of the melancholy, or your present fortune, nor out of the infusion of that, which commeth to you by others relation, (which is subject to much tincture) but ex rebusipsis, out of the nature, of the persons and actions themselves; as the trustiest and least deceiving grounds of opinion. For though I am so unfortunate as to be a stranger to her Majesty’s eyes and to her nature, yet by that which is apparent I do manifestly discern that she hath the character of the divine nature and goodness; quos amavit, amavit usque ad fi nem; and where she hath a creature she doth not deface nor defeat it: insomuch as if I observe rightly in those persons whom heretofore she hath honoured with her special favour, she hath covered and remitted not only defects and ingratitude in affection but errors in state and service. Secondly, if I can spell and scholar-like put together the parts of her Majesty’s proceeding now towards your Lordship; I cannot but make this construction: that her Majesty in her royal intention never purposed to call your Lordship’s doings into public question, but only to have used a cloud without a shower in censuring them by some temporary restrain only of liberty and debarring from her presence. For fi rst, the handling the cause in the Star Chamber, you not called, was enforced by the violence of libelling and rumours; (wherein the Queen thought to have satisfi ed the world, and yet spared your Lordship’s appearance;) and after, when that means which was intended, for the quenching of malicious brutes, turned to kindle them;) because it was said your Lordship was condemned unheard; and your Lordship’s shifter wrote that piquant letter) then her Majesty saw plainly, that these winds of rumours could not be commanded down without a handling of the cause by making your party and admitting your defence. And to this purpose, I do assure your Lordship, that my brother, Francis Bacon who is too wise (I think) to be abused, and too honest to abuse; though he be more reserved in all particulars than is needful; yet, in generality, he hath over constantly and with asseveration, affi rmed to me that both those days Lochithea 261 that of the Star Chamber, and that at my Lord Keeper’s, were won from the Queen, merely upon necessity and point of honour, against her own inclination. Thirdly, in the last proceeding, I note three points, which are directly signifi cant that her Majesty did expressly forbear any point which was irreparable, or might make your Lordship, in any degree incapable of the return of her favour; or might fi x any character indelible of disgrace upon you: for the spared the public place of the Star Chamber: she limited the charge precisely not to touch disloyalty; and no record remaineth to memory of the charge or sentence. Fourthly, the very distinction which was made in the sentence of sequestration from the place of service in State; and leaving to your Lordship the place of master of the house, doth to my understanding, indicative point at this; that her Majesty meant to use your Lordship’s attendance in Court while the exercises of the other places stood suspended. Fifthly, I have heard, and your Lordship knoweth better, that now, since you were in your own custody, her Majesty in verbo regio, and by her mouth, by whom she committeth her royal grants and decrees, hath assured your Lordship she will forbid and not suffer your ruin. Sixthly, as I have heard, her Majesty to be a Prince of that magnanimity that she will spare the service of the ablest subject or peer when she shall be thought to stand in need to it: so she is of that policy as she will not loose the service of a meaner than your Lordship, where it shall depend merely upon her choice and will. Seventhly, I hold it for a principle that those diseases are hardest to cure whereof the cause is obscure; and those easiest whereof the cause is manifest: whereupon I conclude, that since it hath been your error in your courses towards her Majesty, which hath prejudiced you; that your reforming and conformity will restore you so as you may be faber fortunæ propriæ. Lastly, considering your Lordship is removed from dealing in causes of State, and lest only to a place of attendance; methinks that ambition of any man who can endure no partners in State matters, may be so quenched as they should not laboriously oppose themselves to your being in Court: so as upon the whole matter, I cannot fi nd neither in her Majesty’s person, nor in your own person, nor in any third person, neither in former presidents, nor in your own case, any cause of dry and peremptory despair. Neither do I speak this, but that if her Majesty out of her resolution would design you to a private life, you should be as willing upon her appointment to go into the wilderness as into the land of promise. Only, I wish your Lordship will not preoccupate despair, but put trust next to God in her Majesty’s grace; and not to be wanting to your self. I know your Lordship may justly interpret that this which I persuade may have some reference to my particular; because I may truly say te stante, non virebo, (for I am withered in my self;) but manebo, or tenebo; I shall, in some sort, be, or hold out. But though your Lordship’s years and health may expect return of Grace, and fortune; yet your eclipse for a time is an ultimum vale to my fortune: and were it not that I desire and hope, to see my brother established by her Majesty’s favour, (as I think him well worthy, for that he hath done, and suffered) it were time, I did take that course from which I dissuade your Lordship. But now in the 262 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals mean time, I cannot choose but perform those honest duties unto you, to whom I have been so deeply bounden. Anthony Bacon.

Essex replieth thus:

Mr. Bacon. I thank you for your kind and careful letter. It persuades me that which I wish strongly and hope for weakly; that is, possibility of restitution to her Majesty’s favour: your arguments, that would cherish hope, turn to despair. You say the Queen never meant to call me to public censure, which showeth her goodness, but you see I passed it, which showeth others’ power. I believe most steadfastly, her Majesty never intended to bring my cause to a sentence; and I believe as verily that since that sentence, she meant to restore me, to attend upon her person. But they that could use occasions (which was not in me to let) and amplify occasions, and practise occasions, to present to her Majesty a necessity to bring me to the one, can, and will, do the like, to stop me from the other. You say my errors were my prejudice and therefore I can mend my self; and that if ever I recover the Queen that I will never loose her again; will never suffer me to obtain interest in her favour. And you say, the Queen never forsook utterly, where she inwardly favoured: but I know not, whether the hourglass of time hath altered her; but sure I am, the false glass of others information, must alter her, when I want access to plead mine own cause. I know, I ought doubly to be her Majesty’s; both jure creationis; for I am her creature: and jure redemtionis; for, I know, she hath saved me from overthrow. But for her ﬁ rst love, and for her last protection, and all her great beneﬁ ts, I can but pray for her Majesty; and my endeavours are now to make my prayers for her Majesty and my self better heard. For thanks be to God, they that can make her Majesty believe I counterfeit with her, cannot make God believe that I counterfeit with him: and they which can let me from coming near unto her, cannot let me from drawing near unto him, as I hope I do daily. For your brother, I hold him an honest gentleman, and wish him all good; much rather for your sake. Your self, I know, hath suffered more for me, than any friend I have: but I cannot but lament freely as you see I do; and advise you not to do that which I do; which is to despair. You know letters what hurt they have done me; and therefore make sure of this: and yet I could not (as having no other pledge of my love) but communicate freely with you for the ease of my heart and yours. Essex.

Essex hath received wounds from his adversaries all over his body. The violence of his adversaries is oppressing to him, and shall be no greater than his constancy in bearing. Let them triumph; he will not follow the triumphal chariot. On informing the Queen, she alienates her mind from him more and more; but the injury he did her in scorning her beauty infl ames her. He had given out that she being now an old woman was no less Lochithea 263 crooked in mind than in body. These fl ames come from some Ladies of the Court, whom he had deluded in love matters, cherished, increasing their complaints. And here it be fi t to leave Essex in his secret meetings at Drury house, avoiding suspicion. He fi rst propounds a catalogue of the noblemen and gentlemen which he persuades him self to be most addicted to him, where in are reckoned about 120 Earls, Barons, Knights, and gentlemen of most noble houses; then he wills them to deliberate and report to him, whether it be better to seize upon the Court, or upon the Tower of London, or both at once, and what should be done concerning the city of London. All favour the seizure of the Court: Sir Christopher Blunt, with a select number, should seize upon the Court Gate; Davies the Hall; Danvers the Great Chamber (where the guard watch carelessly) and the Presence Chamber. Essex himself from the stable (called the Mules, near the Court) should come with certain choice men and fall upon his knees before the Queen and pray her adversaries, whom he hath determined to bring to their trial and, a Parliament being called, to change the form of the Commonwealth. Of these secret meetings that darkeneth Essex’ path, the Queen sends to Essex the Lord Keeper, Earl of Worcester, Sir William Knolles comptroller of her household and the Earl’s uncle, and Popham, Lord Chief Justice of England, to understand the cause of this assembly. These Counsellors are hardly let in through the Wicket, their servants being shut, all save the purse-bearer. In the courtyard is a confused multitude of men, and in the midst of them Essex, with Rutland, Southampton, and many others, who presently fl ock about them. The Lord Keeper turns to Essex, gives him to understand that he and the rest are sent from the Queen to know that cause of so great an assembly; and if any man did any injury unto them, he promised indifferent justice. Essex answers him with a loud voice: “There is a plot laid against my life; some are suborned to stab me in my bed; we are treacherously dealt withal; letters are counterfeited under my name and hand. We are met together to defend ourselves and save our lives, seeing neither my patience nor misery can assuage the malice of my adversaries, unless they suck also my blood.” Popham speaks to him to the same effect of the Lord Keeper, promising that if he would tell him plainly what had been attempted ’gainst him, he would report it truly to the Queen, and he should be justly and lawfully heard. Southampton makes mention that the Lord Grey had drawn his sword upon him. “But he,” Popham saith “was imprisoned for it.” Whilst the Lord Keeper presses Essex again to lay open his grievances, if not openly, yet at least privately, the multitude interrupting him cries out: “Let us go, the abuse your patience, they betray you and undo you, the time passeth.” To whom the Lord Keeper turns, commands them upon their allegiance to lay down arms. Essex returns to his house; the Lord Keeper with the rest follow him with intent to confer with him in private. Some of the multitude utter out these outrageous words: “Let them be slain, let that Great Seal be thrown away. Let them be shut up in custody.” When into the inner more rooms of the house, Essex commands they should be locked up. And says to them: “Have patience a while, I must presently be gone into the city to enter in some course with my Lord Mayor and the sheriffs. I will return by and by.” Essex leaves but fi nds the chain drawn athwart the street near the Westgate of St. Paul’s church and both Pikes and shot placed ’gainst him by the means of the Bishop of London under the conduct of Sir John Levison. Essex draws his sword. He commands Blunt to set upon them; which he resolutely performs, running upon Waite (who had been formerly sent by Leicester, who was jealous of him, 264 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals into Holland to kill him). Him he slew, and was him self sore hurt and taken prisoner, there fell Henry Tracy, a young gentleman whom Essex loved dearly, and one or two citizens. From hence being repulsed, his hat shot throw, and very many escape from him, he turns aside with a few which would not forsake him to Queen, and there getting boars, returns home. Certain papers he cast into the fi re lest they should tell tales; and prepare him self for defence. And now in his last hope, expecting aid from the Londoners, he fortifi es his house on all sides. The Lord Admiral present beside the house to land-ward; he places the Earls of Cumberland and Lincolne, the Lord Thomas Howard, the Lord Grey, the Lord Burghley, the Lord Compton, and others, with forces of horse and foot. He himself with Lord Effi ngham his son, the Lord Cobham, Sir John Stanley, Sir Robert Sidney, my Cousin Sir Fulke Greville, on the Thames side, seize upon the garden. Being now ready to assault the house, he summons him by Sidney to yield. Southampton asks him to whom they should yield; to their adversaries, those were to run upon their own ruin or to the Queen? Those were to confess themselves guilty “but yet if the Lord Admiral will give us hostages for our security, we will appear before the Queen. If not, we are every of us fully resolved to lose our lives fi ghting.” The Lord Admiral replies by Sidney that neither were conditions to be propounded by rebels, nor hostages to be delivered to them, signifi es to Essex that for sparing the weaker sex he will permit the Countess, his wife, the Lady Rich his sister, and their waiting-gentlewomen, which fi ll all places with their womanish lamentations, to be let forth. Which he accounts as a favour; only he prays than an hour or two mought be granted him to fortify the place by which they should issue, which is also granted. Before the hour is expired, Essex, holding all things for desperate and lost, resolves to break forth, and the Lords Sands, more aged than the rest, earnestly urge him so to do, redoubling that “the stoutest Councils are the safest; that it is more honourable for noblemen to die fi ghting than by the hand of the executioner.” Essex, wavering his mind, begins presently to think of yielding, and signifi es that upon certain conditions he may yield. But when the Lord Admiral would admit of no conditions, he says he shall not give conditions, but rather take; yet three things he requests. First that they might be civilly dealt withal. This the Lord Admiral promises. Second, that their cause might be justly and lawfully heard. He answers that there was no cause to doubt thereof. And lastly, that Ashton, a Minister of God’s word, might be with him in the Tower for his soul’s comfort. The Lord Admiral answers that for these things he would make intercession to the Queen. All noblemen fall upon their knees and deliver their swords to the Lord Admiral, yield themselves at ten of the clock at night. Three dead no more but Owen Salisbury and one or two, which be slain in the house by shot, and as many of the assailants. Essex him self and Southampton are fi rst led by the Lord Admiral to the Archbishop of Canterbury’s house at Lambeth, and not straight to the Tower, because the night is foul and the bridge impass- able by water. But from thence shortly after they are by the Queen’s warrant carried by boat to the Tower; and in other boats Rutland, Sands, Cromwell, Mounteagle, Sir Charles Danvers, and Sir Henry Bromley. The rest are cast into public prisons. Thus, in twelve hours is this commotion suppressed, which some call a scare, others an error. They which censure it more hardly term it an obstinate impatience and desire of revenge, and such as censure it most heavily call it an inconsiderate rashness; and to this day but few there are which have thought it a capital crime. Lochithea 265

Essex and Southampton are arraigned in Westminster Hall before the Lord Treasurer Buckhurst. Their judges or peers are: Edward Earl of Oxford, uncle Burghley, Gilbert Earl of Shrewsbury, Thomas Lord Gray, William Earl of Darby, Thomas Lord Lumley, Edward Earl of Worcester, Henry Lord Windsor, George Earl of Cumberland, Robert Earl of Sussex, Robert Lord Rich, Edward Earl of Hertford, Thomas Lord Darcy of Chiche, Oliver Lord St John of Blethesho, William Lord Compton and Thomas Lord Howard of Walden. Their assistants: Popham, Periam, Gawdy, Fenner, Wamsley, Clerke and Kingsmill.

Essex’ letter to the judges and peers follow:35

My Very Good Lord. Though there is not that man this day living, whom I would sooner make judge of any question that might concern me than yourself, yet you must give me leave to tell you, that in some cases I must appeal from all earthly judges; and if any, then surely in this, when the highest judge on earth has imposed on me the heaviest punishment, without trial or hearing. Since then I must either answer your Lordship’s argument, or else forsake mine own just defence, I will force, mine aching head to do me service for an hour. I must fi rst deny my discontent, which was forced, to be a humorous discontent; and that it was unseasonable, or is of so long continuing, your Lordship should rather condole with me than expostulate. Natural seasons are expected here below; but violent and unseasonable storms come from above. There is no tempest equal to the passionate indignation of a Prince; nor yet at any time so unseasonable, as when it lighteth on those that might expect a harvest of their careful and painful labours. He that is once wounded must needs feel smart, till his hurt is cured, or the part hurt become senseless. But cure I expect none, her Majesty’s heart being obdurate against me; and be without sense I cannot, being of fl esh and blood. But, say you, I may aim at the end. I do more than aim; for I see an end of all my fortunes, I have set an end to all my desires. In this course do I anything for my enemies? When I was at Court, I found them absolute; and therefore I had rather they should triumph alone, than have me attendant upon their chariots. Or do I leave my friends? When I was a Courtier, I could yield them no fruit of my love unto them; and now that I am an hermit, they shall bear no envy for their love towards me. Or do I forsake my self because I do enjoy myself? Or do I overthrow my fortunes, because I build not a fortune of paper walls, which every puff of wind bloweth down? Or do I ruinate mine honour, because I leave following the pursuit, or wearing the false badge or mark of the shadow of honour? Do I give courage or comfort to the foreign foe, because I reserve my self to encounter with him? Or because I keep my heart from business, though I cannot keep my fortune from declining? No, no, my good Lord; I give every one of these considerations its due weight; and the more I weigh them, the more I fi nd my self justifi ed from offending in any of them. As for the two last objections, that I forsake my country when it hath most need of me, and fail in that indissoluble duty which I owe to my Sovereign, I answer, that if my country had at this time any need

35 David Hume: The History of England, vol.i., Part D., 1688 266 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals of my public service, her Majesty, that governeth it, would not have driven me to a private life. I am tied to my country by two bonds; one public, to discharge carefully and industriously that trust which is committed to me; the other private, to sacriﬁ ce for it my life and car- cass, which hath been nourished in it. Of the ﬁ rst I am free, being dismissed, discharged, and disabled by her Majesty. Of the other, nothing can free me but death; and, therefore, no occasion of my performance shall sooner offer itself but I shall meet it half way. The indissoluble duty which I owe unto her Majesty, is only the duty of allegiance, which I never have nor never can fail in. The duty of attendance is no indissoluble duty. I owe her Majesty the duty of an Earl, and of Lord Marshal of England. I have been content to do her Majesty the service of a clerk; but I can never serve her as a villain of slave. But yet you say I must give way unto the time. So I do; for now that I see the storm come, I have put myself into the harbour. Seneca saith, we must give way to fortune. I know that fortune is both blind and strong, and therefore I go as far as I can out of her way. You say the remedy is not to strive. I neither strive nor seek for remedy. But you say I must yield and submit. I can neither yield myself to be guilty, nor allow the imputation laid upon me to be just. I owe so much to the author of all truth, as I can never yield truth to be falsehood, nor falsehood to be truth. Have I given cause, you ask, and yet take a scandal when I have done? No. I gave no cause, not so much as Fimbria’s complaint against me; for I did totum telum corpore recipere, receive the whole sword into my body. I patiently bear all, and sensibly feel all that I then received when this scandal was given me. Nay, more, when the vilest of all indignities are done unto me. Essex.

Her Majesty signs the warrant for Essex’ execution; it is delivered by Robert Cecil to Sir Thomas Egerton, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal. Egerton signs the warrant and it is delivered to the holder of the post by virtue of which the execution be carried out the present Wednesday, February 25, 1601.36 Essex is given in the morning; Thomas Montford and William Barlow, doctors of divinity, with Ashton the minister for the church, to comfort his soul with Christian consolation, in presence of these he gives thanks to Almighty God from the bottom of his heart that his enterprises so dangerous to the state proceeded not, that he had now looked thoroughly into his sin, not without grief of heart, that he had so stifﬂ y defended an unjust case as the Bar. He thanked the Queen that she had granted he should not be publicly executed, lest his mind which was now settled might be disturbed with the acclamations of the people, protesting that he had now learned how vain is the blast of popular favour; and he acknowledged how worthy he was to be spued up buy the Commonwealth for the foulness of his enterprise, which he liked to a leprosy spread far and wide which had infected many. He is brought forth to a scaffold within the courtyard of the Tower of London, near whereunto sit the Earls of Cumberland and Hertford; Viscount Howard of Bindon; the Lord Howard of Walden; the Lord Darcy of Chiche and the Lord Compton. Present also,

36 See Felix Pryor’s Elizabeth I: Her Life in Letters, 2003 Lochithea 267 certain Aldermen of London and some Knights, amongst whom is Raleigh with a purpose (if we may believe him self) to make answer if anything should be objected ’gainst him, the Earl at his death; yet others interpret his presence in a worse sense, to witness, that he might feed his eyes with the Earl’s torment, and satiate his hatred with his blood. As soon as Essex is mounted upon the scaffold, he uncovers his head and lifting up his eyes to heaven, acknowledges that many and great hath been the sins of his youth, for which with most fervent prayer he begs pardon of the eternal Majesty of God through Christ his mediator, especially for this last sin, which he termeth “a bloody, crying, and contagious sin, wherewith so many had been seduced to sin.” He lays his neck upon the block, and having repeated the verses of the 51st psalm, he says, in humility and obedience: “I prostrate myself to my deserved punishment. Thou, o God, have mercy on the prostrate servant. Into thy hands, Lord, I commend my spirit.” His head is taken off at the third stroke; but the ﬁ rst took away both sense and motion. Thus died Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, in his thirty and four years.37 The Earl of Southampton is sent to the Tower; Hayward, the organiser of the play Richard II., is executed; Augustine Phillips, a representative of the acting company, is questioned and no other soul associated with the play is prosecuted; the Chamberlain’s Men continue to entertain her Majesty at Court the same evening before Essex’ execution. There appears in print a declaration of the practises and treasons attempted and committed by Robert, Late Earl of Essex, and his complices,38 against her Majesty and her

37 Alfred Dodd: Francis Bacon’s Personal Life Story, 1946 p. 309: “That Essex was brought to his end by a “trick” is proved by a letter recently discovered (1920) written by Robert Townson, Dean of Westminster, who accompanied Sir Walter Raleigh to the scaffold.” Also see the Daily Post, Liverpool, July 28, 1930 38 “Against Sir John Davis Mr. Francis Bacon urged the evidence, beginning with discourse upon the former ground of Mr. Attorney’s, that every rebellion implied destruction of the Prince, and that in the precedents of Edward II., and Henry IV., the pretence in both was, as in this, against certain subjects; the Spencers in one and the Treasurer in the other. And this style of protestation, that no harm was intended to the person of the sovereign, was common in traitors. Manlius, the lieutenant of Catiline, had that very protestation. But the proceeding is such in this as no long discoursing needs to prove it treason: the act itself was treason. The principal offences charged upon Sir John Davis were two: one, that he was a plotter and of the council at Drury House; another, that in the insurrection he had the custody of the Privy Councilors in Essex House; which had a correspondence with the action in the street. The plot and insurrection entered into was to give laws to the Queen: the preparation was to have a choice band of men for action; men not met together by constellation; but assembled upon summons and letters sent. For, said Mr. Bacon, I will not charge Sir John Davis, although he be a man skilful in strange arts, that he sent spirits abroad; but letters were sent about this matter. The thing to be acted were the matters consulted of, and then to design fi t persons for every action: and for mutual encouragement there was a list of names drawn by the Earl; and these counselors out of them were to elect fi t persons to every offi ce. The second plot was in taking of the Court, and in this consultation he was penna philosophi-scribentis; you were clerk of that council-table and wrote all: and in the detaining of the Privy Councilors you were the man only trusted. And, as the Earl of Rutland said, you held it a stratagem of war to detain pledges, and was (sic) meant to have carried the Lord Keeper with the Great Seal into London, and to have had with you the Lord Chief Justice, a man for his integrity honoured and well beloved of the citizens. And this 268 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Kingdoms whereof her Majesty requests I act upon requiring some papers of concern from Edward Coke, not ill suited to the question of a Sir William Monson,39 for Coke is in great disgrace with the King because of the praemunire aimed at the Chancellor, secret letters written to Somerset, and the legacy of the younger Christopher Hatton and Lord Rich intercepted by Coke’s wife under the pretext of paying money owed the King. By the Privy Council, Coke is removed from his offi ce of Justice of the Peace (save in the county of Norfolk) and his position of Justice of the Assizes, with Sir Ranulph Carew substituted in his place.40 My eye catches a trembling of the candle fl ame, though no wind that otherwise I do feel. The fl ame, though it be a swift motion and breaketh the air, yet passeth without sound. ’Tis no less than Death bloweth at Anthony’s keys of life this 17th May, 1601. I fi nd my self surprised, stupefi ed, and in a manner deprived of all power of motion, so that the soul, beginning to vent itself in tears and lamentations, seems to free and disengage itself from the sudden oppression, and to have obtained some room to work itself out at greater liberty. But, who can blame a tender mother if she weeps for her children? Sorrow is that other character, and inseparable companion, as all writers witness a common symptom, a continual, and still without any evident cause. Grieving still, but why we cannot tell. No sooner are the eyes open, but after terrible and troublesome dreams the heavy hearts begin to sigh: fretting, chafi ng, sighing, grieving, complaining, fi nding faults, repining, grudging, weeping. You come home sorrowful and troubled in mind; the servants do all they possibly can to please; one pulls off the socks, another makes ready the bed, a third prepares supper; all do their utmost endeavours to ease the grief, and exhilarate the person but you are profoundly melancholy, the pain and agony which could not be removed.41 To whom shall I, my hopes and fears impart, or trust the cares and follies of my heart?42 With all the other extravagances of extreme sorrow, less than three months after the death of Essex, I am appointed to a second constituency in St Albans and made Member of Parliament for Ipswich. Such a double return, always rare in the House of Commons, is the highest compliment that could have been paid to my political life,43 when all attend her Majesty, being set under State, in the Council Chamber at Whitehall; the Speaker and Privy Councillors, beside Knights and Burgesses of the Lower House (to the number of eight-score), present themselves at her Majesty’s feet:

Achitophel plot you thought to have followed.”—See Spedding: Life, ii, 1862 p. 275–321 for the complete proceedings of the trial 39 “But the Declration of the Earl’s Treasons, published soon after his death, though drawn up by Mr. Bacon, was imposed on him, and much altered by the Privy Council.”—See R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 40 William Camden’s Diary 41 (a) Robert Burton: The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1653 (b) Michel de Montaigne’s Essay Of Sorrow, 1580 42 John Milton (1608–1674) Epitaphium Damonis 43 William H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861 Lochithea 269

Queen Elizabeth I. Her Last Speech in Parliament44 Mr. Speaker. We perceive your coming is to present thanks unto us; know I accept them with no less joy than your loves can have desire to offer such a present, and do more esteem it than any treasure of riches, for those we know how to prize, but loyalty, love and thanks, I account them invaluable, and though God hath raised me high, yet this I account the glory of my crown, that I have reigned with you loves. This makes that I do not so much rejoice that God hath made me to be a Queen, as to be a Queen over so thankful a people, and to be the mean under God to conserve you in safety, and preserve you from danger, yea to be the instrument to deliver you from dishonour, from shame, and from infamy; to keep you from out of servitude, and from slavery under our enemies; and cruel tyranny, and wild oppression intended against us: for the better withstanding whereof, we take very accept- ably your intended helps, and chieﬂ y in that it manifesteth your loves and largess of heart to your Sovereign. Of myself I must say this, I never was any greedy scraping grasper, nor a strict fast holding Prince, nor as yet a waster. My heart was never set upon any worldly goods, by only for my subjects’ good. What you do bestow on me, I will not hoard up, but receive it to bestow on you again; yea mine own properties I account yours to be expended for your good, and your eyes shall see the bestowing of it for your welfare. Before these gentlemen depart into their countries, come hither; all to kiss my hand.

I shelter my own weakness under these great reputations and return to Twickenham Park; festivities still glorify with performances of the Twelfth Night at the Middle Temple Hall.45 Circling be some funny little anecdote that hath been recorded by John Manningham:46

44 Renascence Manuscripts in public domain Elizabethan & Jacobean Pamphlets 45 Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) see Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 of Sir George Buc’s account: “But, if the fellows and gentlemen of the Inner Temple have taken for the device or ensign of their college, a Pegasus, or ﬂ ying horse, sables or gules, upon a shield or, as I hear that they did in the reign of the late Queen of immortal memory, then they are already fairly armed. And, because the Utter-Temple neither is, nor was ever any college or society of students, and therefore not to be considered here, I will leave the choice of either of these old devices and ensigns to the gentlemen of the Middle Temple, they not having as yet, to my knowledge, chosen or appropriated any ensign to their society or college; to whom, and to their house and studies, I wish all honour and prosperity, for my particular obligation, having been sometimes a fellow and student (or, to confess a truth, a truant) in that most honourable house.” 46 John Manningham was present at the Middle Temple on February 2, 1602, where The Twelfth Night was performing—See Stanley Wells’ A Dictionary of Shakespeare, 1998. The description of the performance is to be found in the diary of the young lawyer of the Middle Temple, who kept a record of his experiences in 1602 and 1603. It has been recorded, that Samuel Johnson once said to a student of his: “What! Sir, a fellow who claps a hump upon his back and a lump on his leg and cries, “I am Richard III.”? Nay, Sir, a ballad-singer is a higher man, for he does 270 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

“At our feast we had a play called Twelfth Night or What You Will much like The Comedy of Errors or Menaechmi in Plautus, but most like and near to that in Italian called Inganni. A good practice in it to make the steward believe his Lady widow was in love with him, by counterfeiting a letter as from his Lady in general terms, telling him what she liked best in him, and prescribing his gesture in smiling, his apparel, etc., and then when he came to practise making him believe they took him to be mad. Upon a time when Burbage played Richard the Third there was a citizen grew so far in liking with him, that before she went from the play she appointed him to come that night unto her by the name of Richard the Third. Shakespeare, overhearing their conclusion, went before, was entertained and at his game ere Burbage came. Then message being brought that Richard the Third was at the door, Shakespeare caused return to be made that William the Conqueror was before Richard the Third.”

And so to politic, where a case is referred to me of a Bill which is very uncertain and insufﬁ cient; and that no further answer needeth to be made thereto ’gainst this Cuthbert Burbage for breach of covenant. Our Lord Keeper moves laughter of the Court: “Although it be good to be merry some time, and this be St Barnabas’ day, the longest day in the year, yet let us not spend the whole day in this place with words to no purpose.”47 Actors, hold thy temper, William Kemp speaketh thus:

Globe playhouse, employment bureau-William Shakespeare:48 In much tribulation do I write thee as to the contention, which hath arisen among our stock actors and supes of the Globe. Nicholas Bottom, whom you brought from the Parish workhouse in Stratford, is in ill humour with thee in especial. He says when he played with you in Ben Jonson’s comedy, Every Man in his Humour he was by far the better actor and did receive the plaudits of all; despite which he now receives but 6 shillings each week, while you are become a man of great wealth, having gotten as he verily believes, as mush as £100. Vainly did I oppose to him that the reason you had money when he had none was in verity that you had laboured when he was drunken, and that this was to his proﬁ t, since, had not you and the other holders of shares in the Globe saved somewhat of money, unthrifty groundlings of his ilk would starve, as there would be none to hire them at wages; but he avers that he is ground in the dust by the treed of capital, and hath so much prated of this that he hath much following, and accounteth himself a martyr. I said to him that at your especial order he was paid 6 shillings per week, which was double is

two things: he repeats and he sings; there is both recitation and music in his performance; the player only recites.” 47 (a) Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 (b) Edward P. Cheyney: A History of England, vol. i, 1948 48 (a) See Franklin H. Head’s Shakespeare’s Insomnia And The Causes Thereof, 1888. (b) In Stanley Wells’ Dictionary of Shakespeare, there is no record of William Kemp after 1600 with the publication of Nine Daies Wonder, though it is noted that William Shakespeare did act in Ben Jonson’s Every Man in his Humour in 1598 where Jonson had an altercation with Gabriel Spenser as seen in Eric Linklater’s Ben Jonson and King James published in 1931 Lochithea 271 worth, and that he should go elsewhere if he was not content, as I could daily get a better man for half his wages; but he will not go hence, nor will he perform, and has persuaded others to join with him, his very worthlessness having made him their leader, and they threaten, unless they may receive additional 4 shillings per week, and a groat each night for sack, they will have no plays performed, nor will they allow others to be hired in their stead. They do further demand that you shall write shorter plays; that you shall write no tragedies required them to labour more than three hours in the rendition; that you shall cut out as much as twelve pages each in Richard III. And Othello, and ﬁ fteen pages from Hamlet, that they may not labour to weariness, and may have more hours to recreation and improvement at the alehouse. I know not what to do. If I yield them their demands, nothing will be left for the owners of shares in the Globe; and if I do not, I fear mobs and riots. Fain would I receive thy counsel, which shall have good heed. William Kemp.

To proceed now from Kemp’s weariness, to the Duke Humfrey’s Library in Oxford, so ardently desired, hath been unveiled under the efforts of Sir Thomas Bodley in the past year of 1598; we hear of its extension, for accommodating the growing number of books. I recalleth how our James I., shall visit and thus say: “If I were not a King, I would be a University man; and if it were so that I must be a prisoner, if I might have my wish, I would desire no other prison than that library, and to be chained together so many good authors and dead masters.”49 Within the Bodleian Library, rests the history of Bodley’s lifetime and this to recall on Essex that seems appropriate to remember: “Now here I cannot choose but in making report of the principal accidents that have fallen unto me in the course of my life, but record among the rest that from the very fi rst day I had no man more to friend among the Lords of the Council, that was the Lord Treasurer Burleigh: for when occasion had been offered of declaring his conceit as touching my service, he would always tell the Queen that there was not any man in England so meet as my self to undergo the offi ce of the Secretary. And sithence his son, the present Lord Treasurer, hath signifi ed unto me in private conference, that when his father fi rst intended to advance him to that place, his purpose was withal to make me his colleague. But the case stood thus in my self: before such time as I returned from the provinces united, which was in the year 1597, and likewise after my return, the then Earl of Essex did use me so kindly both by letters and messages, and other great tokens of his inward favours to me, that although I had no meaning, but to settle in my mind my chiefest desire and dependence upon the Lord Burleigh, as one that I reputed to be both the best able, and therewithal the most willing to work my advancement with the Queen, yet I know not how, the Earl, who fought by all devises to divers her love and looking both from the farther and the son to withdraw my affection from the one and the other, and to win me altogether to depend upon him self, did so often take occasion to entertain the Queen with some prodigal speeches for my suffi ciency for a Secretary, which were ever accompanied with words of disgrace against the present Lord Treasurer, as neither she her self, of whose favour before I was thoroughly

49 Aubrey’s Brief Lives 272 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals assured took any great pleasure to prefer me the sooner and both the Lord Burleigh and his son waxed jealous of my courses, as if under hand I had been induced by the cunning and kindness of the Earl of Essex, to oppose my self against their dealings. And though in very truth they had no solid ground at all of the least alteration in my disposition toward either of them both, yet the now Lord Treasurer, upon occasion of some talk, that I have since had with him, of the Earl and his actions, hath freely confessed of his own accord unto me, that his daily provocations were so bitter and sharp against him, and his comparison so odious, when he put us in a balance, as he thought thereupon he heard very great reason to use his best means, to put any man out of hope of raising his fortune, whom the Earl with such violence, of his extreme prejudice, had endeavoured to dignify. And this, as he affi rmed, was all the notice he had to set himself against me, in whatsoever might redound to the bettering of my estate, or increasing of my credit and countenance with the Queen. When I have thoroughly now bethought me, fi rst in the Earl, of the lender holdfast that he had in the favour of the Queen, of an endless opposition of the chiefest of our states men like still to wait upon him, of his perilous, and feeble, and uncertain advice, as well in his own, as in all the causes of his friends: and when moreover for my self I had fully considered how very untowardly these two Counsellors were affected unto me, how ill it did concur with my natural disposition, to become, or too bounded either a stickler or partaker in any public faction, how well I was able by God’s good blessing, to live of my self, if I could be content with a competent livelihood; how short time for further life I was then to expect by the common course of nature: when I had, I say, in this manner represented to my thoughts my particular estate, together with the Earls, I resolved thereupon to possess my soul in peace all the residue of my days, to take my full farewell of state employments. To satisfy my mind with the mediocrity of worldly living that I had of my own, and so to return me from the court, which was the epilogue and end of all my actions and endeavours of any important note, till I came to the age of fi fty-three.” It is not necessary I should longer insist upon Bodley’s recalls, as the scale of the balance must give way to the weight that presses it down, so the mind must of necessity yield to demonstration: Robert Cecil woos clandestine correspondence with James VI., of Scotland, an easy successor to the British throne,50 who wont be very earnest with the country gentlemen to go from London to their country seats and sometimes saith: “Gentlemen, at London you are like ships in a sea, which show like nothing; but in your country villages, you are like ships in a river, which look like great things.”51 In acknowledgment of so glorious a curiosity, our Sir Walter Raleigh brings birth to a poet’s club at the Mermaid Tavern in Bread Street; they meet each fi rst Friday of each month.52

50 Arthur Mee and J.A. Hammerton: The World’s Greatest Books, vol xi: “The next heir in blood was James of Scotland, and gravely as statesmen desired the union of the two countries, in the existing mood of the people, the very stones in London streets, it was said, would rise up against a King of Scotland who entered England as Sovereign.” 51 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 52 H.N. Hudson in: Shakespeare: His Life, Art, And Characters, Vol i., published in 1872 writes: “We have nothing that directly certiﬁ es his [Shakespeare] membership of that choice institution; but there are several things inferring it so strongly as to leave no reasonable doubt on Lochithea 273

And I, so ardently, desire a short meeting with James VI., of Scotland before his arrival in London, thus I scribble A Brief Discourse Touching the Happy Union of the Kingdoms of England and Scotland. On the tail, my publication of The Interpretation of Nature goes under nom-de-plume of Valerius Terminus.53 A work where I believed my self born for the service of mankind, and reckoned the care of the common wheel to be among those duties that are of public right, open to all alike, even as the waters and the air, I therefore asked my self what could most advantage mankind, and for the performance of what tasks I seemed to be shaped by nature.

Interpretation of Nature fi rst published in Stephens’ Letters and Remains, 173454 A few fragments of the fi rst book, viz. 1. The fi rst chapter entire. [Of the ends and limits of knowledge] 2. A portion of the 11th chapter. [Of the scale] 3. A small portion of the 9th chapter [being an Inducement to the Inventory] 4. A small portion of the 10th chapter [being the preface to the Inventory] 5. A small portion of the 16th chapter [being a preface to the inward elenches of the mind] 6. A small portion of the 4th chapter [Of the impediments of knowledge in general] 7. A small portion of the 5th chapter [Of the diversion of wits] 8. The 6th chapter entire [Of]

the subject.” The author goes on to refer to Aubrey’s comments on Shakespeare and of Francis Beaumont’s lines to Ben Jonson whom he thinks refers to Shakespeare: “Methinks the little wit I had is lost since I saw you; for wit is like a rest held up at tennis, which men do the best with the best gamesters. What things have we seen done at the Mermaid. Heard words that have been so nimble, and so full of subtile ﬂ ame, as if that every one from whence they came had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, and had resolved to live a fool the rest of his dull life.” And of Dr. Thomas Fuller “though not born till 1608, was acquainted with some of the old Mermaid wits” who states in his account in his Worthies of Warwickshire: “Many were the wit- combats betwixt him and Ben Jonson; which two I behold like a Spanish great galleon and an English man-of-war. Lord Jonson, like the former, was built far higher in learning; solid, but slow, in his performances: Shakespeare, with the English man-of-war, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack about, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention.” 53 According to Spedding in his Works, vol. vi. p. 9: “It is impossible to ascertain the motive which determined Bacon to give to the supposed author the name of Valerius Terminus, or to his commentator, of whose annotations we have no remains, that of Hermes Stella. It may be conjecture that by the name Terminus he intended to intimate that the new philosophy would put an end to the wandering of mankind in search of truth, that it would be the terminus ad quem in which when it was once attained the mind would ﬁ nally acquiesce.” 54 Spedding: Works, vol. vi 274 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

9. A portion of the 7th chapter 10. The 8th chapter entire 11. Another portion of the 9th chapter 12. The Abridgment of the 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 21. 22. 25. 26th chapters of the ﬁ rst book 13. The ﬁ rst chapter of [the] a book of the same argument written in Latin and destined [for] to be [traditionally] separate and not public

Thereon I found no work so meritorious as the discovery and development of the arts and inventions that tend to civilize the life of man above all, if any man could succeed-not in merely bringing to light some one particular invention, however useful-but in kindling in nature a luminary which would, at its fi rst rising, shed some light on the present limits and borders of human discoveries, and which afterwards, as it rose still higher, would reveal bring into clear view every nook and cranny of darkness, it seemed to me that such a discovered would deserve to be called the true Extender of the Kingdom of Man over the universe, the champion of human liberty, and the exterminator of the necessities that now keep man in bondage. Moreover, I found in my own nature a special adaptation for the contemplation of truth. For I had a mind at once versatile enough for that most important object-I mean the recognition of similitudes-and at the same time suffi ciently steady and concentrated for the observation of subtle shades of difference. I possessed a passion for research, a power of suspending judgment with patience of meditating with pleasure, of assenting with caution, of correcting false impressions with readiness, and of arranging my thoughts with scrupulous pains. I had no hankering after novelty, no blind admiration for antiquity. Imposture in every shape I utterly detested. For all these reasons I considered that my nature and disposition had as it were a kind of kinship and connection with truth. But my birth, re rearing and education, had all pointed, not towards philosophy, but towards politics: I had been as it were imbued in politics from childhood. Moreover, as is not infrequently the case with young men, I was sometimes shaken in my mind by other men’s opinion. I also thought that my duty towards my country had special claims upon me, such as could not be urged by other duties of life. Lastly, I conceived the hope that, if I held some honourable offi ce in the State, I might thus secure helps and supports to aid my labours, with a view to the accomplishment of my destined task. With these motives I applied myself to politics, and with all due modesty I also recommended my self to the favour of infl uential friends. There was one other consideration that infl uenced me. The objects of philosophy just now mentioned, be they what they may, do not extend their infl uence beyond the condition and culture of this present mortal life. Now, as my life hath fallen on times when religion was not in a very prosperous state, it occurred to me that in the discharge of the duties of political offi ce it might be also in my power to make some provision even for the safety of souls. Alas! From an experiment performed by Drebbel in the presence of James I., of the artifi cial turning water into ice with air in place of water, and the ice about it, be all that I see of my journey to Scotland and in the antechambers where I noteth that breathing upon Lochithea 275 a glass giveth a dew.55 No private conference to purpose with the King; and no more hath almost any other English: for the speech, his Majesty admitteth, with some noblemen, is rather matter of grace than matter of business. With the attorney he spake, urged by the Treasurer of Scotland, but no more than needs must.56 Upon my return patient Reader, you may burn my head with fi re if you willeth; wound me with steel if you must; and scourge my shoulders with twisted wire if you pleaseth,57 for from my lips fl ow intrigue: “I do desire we may be better strangers.” Words to Alice Barnham,58 eleven-years-old; not soon won to fi t her with bells? Would she have the old fashion, with napkin on her arms?59 Would you not exchange all the wealth Achæmenes once had, all the riches of the King of fertile Phrygia, all the treasures of the Arabians, for one ringlet of Licymnias’s hair, when she turns her head to you for fragrant kisses, or with easily assuaged anger denies them, which she would rather by far you took by force, and sometimes herself snatches one? Ah, poor man Bacon! Thou hast enough inconveniences that are inevitable, without increasing them by thine own invention; and art miserable enough by nature, without being so by art; thou hast real and essential deformi- ties enough, without forging those that are imaginary. Dost thou think thou art too much at ease, unless half thy ease is uneasy? Doest thou fi nd that thou hast not performed all the necessary offi ces that nature has enjoined thee, and that she is idle in thee, if thou dost not oblige thyself to her and new offi ces? Thou doest not stick to infringe her universal and undoubted laws; but stickest to thy own special and fantastic rules, and by how much more particular, uncertain, and contradictory they are, by so much thou employest thy whole endeavour in them: the law of thy parish occupy and bind thee: those of God and the world concern thee not. Run but a little over the examples of this kind; thy life is full of them. Ladies cover their necks with network, priests cover several sacred things, and painters shadow their pictures to give them greater lustre; and ’tis said that the sun and wind strike more violently by refl ection than in a direct line. The Egyptian wisely answered him who asked him what he had under his cloak; “it is hid under my cloak,” said he, “that thou

55 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, century i. (80) 56 See Resuscitatio, 1657. In Spedding’s Life, vol. iii., this version of a letter to Northumberland has slight differences 57 Tibullus, i. 90, 21 58 (a) “Alice Barnham (1592–1650) was brought up in the family of Sir John Pakington, who was a great favourite of Queen Elizabeth known as “Lusty Pakington” for his magnifi cence of living. He owned several estates that hosted royalty, including King James I., of England on his way from Scotland to take possession of the English throne in 1603. The family’s favourite home was in the Strand, London. Her marriage to Francis Bacon led to no children. In 1620, she met Mr. John Underhill. She was rumoured to have had an ongoing affair with Underhill who was a cousin of the William Underhill who sold New Place to William Shakespeare in 1597.”—Wikipedia Org. (b) “Bacon had saved himself three years previously from being excommunicated altogether from the public service by his readiness for an engagement with a child of eleven years (Alice Barnham), a commoner. He was now going to open the door to State offi ces by his marriage to the “handsome wench” of thirteen, according to his bargain with the King and Cecil.”—Alfred Dodd 59 See William Kemp’s Nine Daies Wonder, 1600 276 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals mayest not know what it is”: but there are certain other things that people hide only to show them. And I paint, I confess, emotion60 and no trustworthier smile jump to my lips; what fi res, torments, cares, jealousies, suspicions, fears, griefs, anxieties, accompany such as are in love that hath the boldness to confess such words, whilst her Majesty giveth hers: All my possessions for a moment of time. ’Twas the Emperor Vespasian, being sick of the disease whereof he died, did not for all that neglect to inquire after the State of the Empire; and even in bed continually despatched very many affairs of great consequence; for which, being reproved by his physician, as a thing prejudicial to his health, “An emperor,” said he, “must die standing.” A fi ne saying, in my opinion, and worthy a great Prince. Each thing affrights me, I do fear. Pardon me Reader, repair me with thy presence a little longer for my fear I doubt a man is hid within the clothes that thou dost wear. Before hearing of the Queen’s death, I write to the Earl of Northumberland in recommendation of my service:61

It May Please Your Good Lordship. As the time of slowing of feed is known, but the time of coming up and disclosing is casual, or according to the season; so I am a witness to my self, that there hath been covered in my mind a long time a seed of affection and zeal towards your Lordship, shown by the estimation of our virtues, and our particular honours and favours to my brother deceased, and to my self; which seed still springing, now bursteth forth into this profession. And to be plain with your Lordship, it is very true; (and no winds or noises of civil matters can blow this out of my head or heart) that your great capacity and love towards studies and contemplations, of an higher and worthier nature then popular; (a nature rare in the world, and in a person of your Lordship’s quality, almost singular) is to me a great and chief motive to draw my affection and admiration towards you. And therefore, good my Lord, if I may be of any use to your Lordship by my head, tongue, pen, means, or friends, I humbly pray you to hold me your own: and herewithal, not to do so much disadvantage to my good mind, nor partly, to your own worth, as to conceive, that this commendation of my humble service proceedeth out of any straights of my occasions, but merely out of an election, and indeed, the fullness of my heart. And so wishing your Lordship all prosperity, I continue. Fra. Bacon.

Her Majesty leaveth no will; nothing is given; whosoever shall come after her, shall ﬁ nd her jewels and a rich wardrobe of more than 2.000 gowns with all things else answerable.62

60 Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictionary, 1881: EMOTION, n. A prostrating disease caused by a determination of the heart to the head. It is sometimes accompanied by a copious discharge of hydrated chloride of sodium from the eyes 61 Scrinia Cexiliana: Mysteries of State & Government: In letters of the late Famous Lord Burghley, and other Grand Ministers of State. Being a further Additional Supplement of the Cabala, 1663 62 Queen Elizabeth I’s wardrobe came to an annual expenditure of over £9.000—Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 Lochithea 277

By the decease of Elizabeth, Queen of England, the issues of King Henry the Eighth faileth; being spent in one generation and three successions.63 The Lords Spiritual and Temporal, together with her former Privy Counsellors, forming a provisional government, proclaim James VI., of Scotland, the King of England. We are blessed in the change; this alteration is so great, as one might justly conceive; it is in vain to tell with what wonderful still, and calm, this wheel is turned round: which, whether it be a remnant of her felicity that is gone, or a fruit of his reputation, that is coming, I will determine not. For I cannot but divide my self between her memory and his name: yet we account it but a fair morn before sun-rising, before his Majesty’s presence; though, for my part, I see not whence any weather should arise. The Papists are contained with fear enough and hope too much. The French is thought to turn his practice upon procuring some disturbance in Scotland, where crowns may do wonders: but this day is so welcome to the nation and the time so short, as I do fear not an effect. Lord Southampton, expected release by the next dispatch, and is already much visited and much well wished. There is continual posting by men of good quality towards the King. The rather, I think, because this springtime it is but a kind of sport. It is hoped that as the State here hath performed the part of good attorneys, to deliver the King quiet possession of his Kingdoms: so the King will redeliver them quiet possession of their places; rather fi lling places void, than removing men place. So, &c., I do hold it a thing formal and necessary for the King to forerun his coming, (be it never so speedy,) with some gracious declaration for the cherishing entertaining and preparing of men’s affection. For which purpose, I have conceived a draught, it being a thing familiar in my mistress, her times, to have my pen used in public writings of satisfaction. The use of this may be in two sorts: fi rst, properly to shew the King any such draught because the veins and pulses of this State cannot but be best known here; if this should be so, I would desire my name withdrawn and only signify that some heads of direction of such a matter to one of whose style and pen is of some opinion. The other, collateral; that if no other use of it be made, yet it is a kind of portraiture of that which I think worthy to be advised to the King; and perhaps more compendious and signifi cant than if I had set them down in articles.64 Of a gift to James VI., of Scotland, I present two triangular stones, as the fi rst fruits of my philosophy, to imitate the sympathetical motion of the load-stone and iron, although made up by the compounds of meteors, as star-shot jelly, and other like magical ingredients, with the refl ected beams of the sun, on purpose that the warmth distilled into them through the moist heat of the hand, might discover the affection of the heart, by a visible sign of their attraction and appetite to each other, like the hand of a watch within ten minutes after they are laid on a marble table, or the theatre of a great looking-glass.65

63 Francis Bacon: History of Great Britain published in 1657 64 Resuscitatio, 1657 65 Baconiana, 1679. In Fenton’s Diaries of John Dee, there is an insert of Dee’s, dated March 10, 1582, that he had received from a friend a stone of which was used as a crystal ball; Dee does not name the friend 278 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

But yet the commandment of knowledge is yet higher than the commandment over the will; within the season, I forward three letters: one to my good friend Tobie Matthew, an other to my humble friend and presence in my life, our poet, John Davies:66

Mr. Matthew. Two letters of mine are now already walking towards you; but so that we might meet, it were no matter though our letters should lose their way. I make a shift in the mean time to be glad of your approaches, and would be more glad to be an agent for your presence, who have been a patient by your absence. If your body by indisposition make you acknowledge the healthful air of your native country, much more do I assure my self that you continue to have your mind no way estranged. And as my trust with the State is above suspicion, so my knowledge both of your loyalty and honest nature will ever make me show my self your faithful friend without scruple. You have reason to commend that gentleman to me, by whom you sent your last, although his having travelled so long amongst the sadder nations of the world make him much the less easy upon small acquaintance to be understood. I have sent you some copies of my book of the Advancement, which you desired; and a little work of my recreation, which you desired not. My Instauration I reserve for our conference; it sleeps not. Those works of the Alphabet67 are in my opinion of less use to you where you are now, than at Paris; and therefore I conceived that you had sent me a kind of tacit countermand of your former request. But in regard that some friends of yours have still insisted here, I send them to you; and for my part, I value your own reading more than your publishing them to others. Thus, in extreme haste, I have scribbled to you I know not what, which therefore is the less affected, and for that very reason will not be esteemed the less by you. Fra. Bacon.

66 Both letters from Resuscitatio, 1657 67 (a) Spedding: Life, i, p. 557.: “What those works of the alphabet may have been, I cannot guess, unless they related to Bacon’s cipher, in which, by means of two alphabeta, one having only two letters, the other having two forms for each of the twenty-four letters, any words you please may be written so as to signify any other words, &c.,” (b) “In 1621, thirteen or fourteen years after the date of this letter Bacon writes again to Sir Toby Matthew, introducing the word alphabet, but in a manner which shows no kind of connection with Tragedies and Comedies. “If upon your repair to the Court (whereof I am right glad) you have any speech of the Marquis of me, I may place the alphabet (you can do it right well) in a frame, to express my love faithful and ardent towards him.” See Basil Montague’s Work of Lord Bacon, vol xii. p. 430. This extract shows that there was some mystery about the word alphabet, as used by Bacon. Perhaps, after his fashion, he “moralized two meanings in one word,” and having adopted it in the ﬁ rst instance as a password, meaning his secret writings, the Tragedies and Comedies, he afterwards grew to use it in a more general sense, to express any secret or mysterious matter which there might be between himself and Sir Toby; matters which could only be safely communicated by means of a cipher or alphabet. Although the word alphabet is not repeated, yet it will be seen by reference to the Advancement of Learning ii, Spedding, iii. 339, that Bacon dwells in his own mind upon the fact of letters being the original source of cogitation.”—Mrs. Henry Pott’s The Promus, 1883 Lochithea 279

Mr. John Davies. Though you went on the sudden, yet you could not go before you had spoken with your self to the purpose, which I will now write: and therefore I know it shall be altogether needless, save that I meant to shew you that I was not asleep. Briefl y, I commend my self to your love and the well using my name; as well in repressing and answering for me, if there be any biting or nibbling at it, in that place; as by imprinting a good conceit and opinion of me, chiefl y in the King; (of whose favour I make my self comfortable assurance;) as otherwise in that Court. And not only so, but generally to perform to me all the good offi ces which the vivacity of your wit can suggest to your mind to be performed to one, with whose affection you have so great sympathy, and in whose fortune you have so great interest. So desiring you to be good, to concealed poets, I continue. Your very assured. Fra. Bacon.

To The Royal, Ingenious, And All-Learned Knight, Sr Francis Bacon. By John Davies The Scourge of Folly, 1610 Thy bounty and the Beauty of thy Wit Comprised in Lists of Law and learned Arts, Each making thee for great employment ﬁ t Which now thou hast, (though short of thy deserts) Compels my Pen to let fall shining Ink And to bedew the Bays that deck thy Front; And to thy health in Helicon to drink As to her Bellamour, the Muse is wont: For thou dost her embossom; and dost Her company for sport twixt grave affaires. So utters Law the livelier through thy Muse: And for that all thy Notes are sweetest Aires; My Muse thus notes thy worth in every Line, With ink which thus she sugars; so, to shine.

A disturbance in the Border country, and at Waterford and elsewhere in Ireland, but the King arriveth at York. Southampton and other prisoners are set free. Robert Cecil, being Secretary, is summoned to York, and all is arranged for the Queen’s funeral service with King James I’s accession; the Admiral’s Men become Prince Henry’s Men.68 Scribbles enter in the Treasurer books of a ﬁ nal entry during her Majesty’s reign: to John Heminges and the rest of his Company, Servants to the Lord Chamberlain, upon the Councils warrant, dated at

68 Main rivals to Shakespeare’s Company, the Lord Chamberlain’s; their leading actor, Edward Alleyn (1566–1626) founder of Dulwich College and chief rival to Richard Burbage 280 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Whitehall the 20th of April, 1603, for their pains and expenses in presenting before the late Queen’s Majesty two plays, the one upon St. Stephen’s day at night and the other upon Candlemas day at night, for each of which they were allowed, by way of her Majesty’s reward, £10, amounting in all to £20.69 The King and Queen are crowned, though the weather is most foul and the plague exceedingly savage. For this week 1.103 have died.70 We see in great weaknesses and consumptions, men are sustained with woman’s milk; and Ficinus fondly, as I conceive, adviseth, for the prolongation of life,71 that a vein be opened in the arm of some wholesome young man, and the blood to be sucked.72 It is said that witches do greedily eat man’s fl esh; which if it be true, besides a devilish appetite in them, it is likely to proceed for that man’s fl esh may send up high and pleasing vapours, which may stir the imagination, and witches’ felicity is chiefl y in imagination, as hath been said.73 Serpent bonfi res are lit from nine of the clock to burn good myrrh and other herbs from wardens of parishes.74 Alas, ’tis worst than when the French (which put off the name of the French disease unto the name of the disease of Naples) do report, that at the siege of Naples there were certain wicked merchants that barrelled up man’s fl esh (of some that had been lately slain in Barbary) and sold it for tunney; and that upon that foul and high nourishment as the original of that disease.75

69 See Knight’s Biography of Shakespeare, 1882 70 From December 1602 to December 22, 1603, around 34,244 perished at London, of whom 30,578 died of the plague 71 A taste of Lord Bacon’s prolongation of life, can also be witnessed in a Star Trek episode Mirin of the original series with William Shatner as Captain Kirk of the Star Ship Enterprise. In Spedding’s Works, vol. iii. p. 324–326 Robert Leslie Ellis comments: “Roger Bacon’s treatise De Retard. Senect. Accidentibus was published in English in 1683. I do not ﬁ nd any reason for supposing that Bacon was acquainted with it. It contains one mystical chapter touching an occult method for the recovery of youth which the translator supposes, and perhaps rightly, to relate to a practice in support of which a passage of the Old Testament has been often quoted. A celebrate book was written in the middle of the last century on the same subject, or on something akin to it: Hermippus Redivivus, by Cohausen. The title is taken from an apocryphal inscription commemorating the death of one Hermippus at the age of 115, and recording the means whereby he was enable to live so long.” 72 (a) “As I look round this room, although it has been to me so full of fear, it is now a sort of sanctuary, for nothing can be more dreadful than those awful women, who were, who are, waiting to suck my blood.”—Dracula published in 1897 by Abraham Stoker (1847–1912) an Irish writer and business partner of Sir Henry Irving at the Lyceum Theatre in London. (b) “As I suck blood, I will some merry shew. Follow me.”—See William Shakespeare’s The Life of Henry The Fifth. IV. iv. 73 (a) Spedding: Works, vol. v, 1862 (b) Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol i, century ix (859) 74 F.P. Wilson: The Plague in Shakespeare’s London, 1963 75 “This story is told in Sandys’ Travels, p. 186. (7th edition). Monardes, quoted by Kapnammis, ascribes the disease to the bad food to which the army was reduced; but does not mention the use of human ﬂ esh.”—James Spedding Lochithea 281

As to his Majesty, much is said: his big head, his slobbering tongue, his quilted clothes, his rickety legs stand out in as grotesque a contrast with all that men recalled of Henry and Elizabeth as his gabble and rhodomontade, his want of personal dignity, his buffoonery, his coarseness of speech, his pedantry, his contemptible cowardice. Under this ridiculous exterior, however, layeth a man of much natural ability, a ripe scholar with a considerable fund of shrewdness, of mother wit and ready repartee.76 How angerly I taught my brow to frown, when inward joy enforced my heart to smile. As for advancement, I escape London; my bones take to Sir Cotton at Connington in Huntingdonshire; other antiquarian’s I meet under the glandulous library Sir Cotton stacks; of Ben Jonson’s acquaintance here, I put forth with pride, yet sorrow mostly, for it is at Cotton’s house that to Ben Jonson appears a vision of his son who shall soon die.77 Leaving the vulgar arguments, that by learning man excelleth man in that wherein man excelleth beasts, I conclude my delayed letter to Robert Cecil:

My Very Good Lord. Your money shall be ready before your day, principal, interest, and costs of suit. So the sheriff promised, when I released errors; and a Jew takes no more. The rest cannot be forgotten; for I cannot forget your Lordship’s durn memor ipse mei: and if there have been aliguid nimis, it shall be amended. And, to be plain with your Lordship, that will quicken me now, which slackened me before. Then I thought you might have had more use of me, than now, I suppose, you are like to have. Not but I think the impediment will be rather in my mind, than in the matter or times. But to do you service, I will come out of my religion at any time. For my Knighthood, I wish the manner might be such, as might grace me, since the matter will not: I mean, that I might not be merely gregarious in a troop. The coronation is at hand. It may please your Lordship to let me hear from you speedily. So I continue your Lordship’s ever much bounden. Fra. Bacon.

They say late thanks are ever best and for this divulged and almost prostitute title of Knighthood I could, without charge, be content to have it. As little by such toys I am affected, I have three new Knights in my Mess at Gray’s Inn Commons, and I have found out an Alderman’s daughter, an handsome maiden to my liking though I durst not presume to put off her maiden blushes. And so, I am Knighted at Whitehall by King James I., at the age of two and forty years with a prosperous future with a maid, with much success. My works ascendeth to the heavens: A Brief Discourse touching the Happy Union of the Kingdoms of England and Scotland and with the name Valerius Terminus my Interpretation

76 (a) Short History of the English People, chap. viii, sec. Ii (b) Lord Macaulay’s description of James I., from his History of England, chap. i: “His cowardice, his childishness, his pedantry, his ungainly person and manners, his provincial accent, made him an object of derision. Even in his virtues and accomplishments there was something eminently unkingly.” 77 See Eric Linklater: Ben Jonson and King James, 1972 282 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals of Nature settles me a member of the Ecclesiastical Commission as King’s Counsel Extraordinary. I appear as one of the Counsel for the Crown, under the new reign, on two plots: the ﬁ rst being the Bye Plot; a conspiracy to seize the King’s person, the taking of the Tower, the deposing of Councillors, and proclaiming liberty of religion. Conspirators are two priests: Watson and Clarke, thereafter Brooke, Markham, Brookesby and Copley.78 All shall be condemned by their own confessions. The second, being the Main Plot: an involvement and trial of Sir Walter Raleigh, arising out of the conspiracy to put Lady Arabella Stuart on the throne. I remain at a distance, yet it is not possible to be afar from Coke who sits as Attorney General to address the jury, though I am unable to examine any of the witnesses. I may only lean back in my seat and take an account of the following scene that occurs between Coke and Raleigh:79 Coke stops Raleigh in his defence, denounces him as an atheist, and says he has an English face but a Spanish heart. Cecil, being one of the Commissioners, says, “Be not so impatient, Mr. Attorney; give him leave to speak.” Coke explodes: “If I many not be patiently heard, you will encourage traitors and dis- courage us. I am the King’s sworn servant, and I must speak. If he be guilty, he is a traitor; if not, deliver him.” Coke sits down in a chafe, and will speak no more until Commissioners urge and entreat him. After much ado he goes on, and makes a long repetition of all the evidence for the direction of the jury; and at the repeating of some things, Raleigh interrupts him, and says he did him wrong. “Thou art the most vile and execrable traitor that ever lived.” Replies Coke. Raleigh does not pull back. “You speak indiscreetly, barbarously, and uncivilly.” Neither does Coke pull back. “I want words sufﬁ cient to express your viperous treasons.” “I think you want words, indeed, for you have spoken one thing half a dozen times.” “Thou art an odious fellow: thy name is hateful to all the Realm of England for thy pride.” Coke addeth. “It will go near to prove a measuring cast between you and me, Mr. Attorney.” “Well, I will now make it appear to the world that there never live a viler viper upon the face of the earth than thou.” Raleigh dismisses Coke’s words with a wave of his hand, then settles himself. And so much for this, whilst Sir William Waad, clerk of the Privy Council, forwards this disturbing letter to Robert Cecil:80

My Very Good Lord. I assure your Lordship the disorders are so many and great and justices in Middlesex near London removed into the country and the Aldermen and better sort out of the city, so as if some strict course be not taken, the contagion will spread more and more. Notwithstanding

78 See Maurice Lee Jr: Dudley Carleton to John Chamberlain, 1972 79 Lord Campbell: The Life of Lord Bacon, 1853 80 See F.P. Wilson: The Plague in Shakespeare’s London, 1963 Lochithea 283 the orders set down, there come Londoners from infected places into cottages in all the villages about London, and bring bedding and stuff with them and presume no man or offi cer will lay hands on them, because it is known the sickness is in their houses; so as the diffi culty is, what course should be taken with these men, which I think must be to bind them to appear from sessions to sessions, until they may there be fi ned, or to bind some to appear hereafter in the Star Chamber, and to send some of the meaner persons to the pest houses, but no constable will take charge of them. The cages are full of sick folks, and when they die, the straw thrown about the streets, fresh straw put in, and new sick persons; I have often seen three in one cage together, and people continually about them. Those that are carried to be buried accompanies as in other times, and the streets strawed with fl owers when maids of any sort are buried, which gathereth people together, and for bachelors they wear rosemary, as if it were at marriages. Complaint hath been made unto me of fi ve ale- houses together all infected and not one shut up. And in all places at the entering into the suburbs, straw, old bedding, mats and rags thrown so thick in the highway, as a man can neither come in, nor go forth of the city, without passing the pikes, which Mr. Solicitor can witness. Another very lamentable thing very common: divers come out of the town and die under hedges in the fi elds, and in divers places further off, whereof we have experience weekly here at Hampstead, and come in men’s yards and outhouses if they be open, and die there, and in some barns not far from London as to a pest house. In the city, it is a common thing, so soon as any falleth ill at ease in any house in a great street, presently the party is sent out of the house either to his friends abroad or to some poor house, and so neither the houses where the infection was fi rst taken not the shops are shut up. On the holidays they come of the city, in such numbers to all the villages about London, as if they meant to abandon the city, which must needs spread the infection, and it were better to limit them the fi elds about the city. The absence of the Aldermen from the city, and the justices in the shire hath bred liberty, and scope, in their lamentable cases and disorders. These things are easier to be complained of than remedied, and yet if there be not some reformation, there will be little hope of the contagion to cease. Sir William Waad.

And though merry festivities follow, I cry you mercy on 30.578 persons who die of the plague.81 An Act for charity to persons spoiled of the plague is passed by his Majesty’s parliament,82 betwixt a proclamation by his Majesty as follows:83

A Proclamation Concerning the Kings Majesties Stile, of King of Great Britaine, &c. As often as we call to mind the most joyful and just recognition made by the whole body of our Realm, in the ﬁ rst session of our High Court of Parliament, of that blessing which it bath pleased God to reserve many years in his providence to our person, and now in the

81 Stow’s Annales, 1605 82 See F.P. Wilson: The Plague in Shakespeare’s London, 1963 83 Larkin & Hughes: Royal Stuart Proclamations, vol. i 284 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

fullness of the time of his disposition, to bestow upon us; namely the blessed union, or rather reuniting of these two mighty, famous, and ancient Kingdoms of England and Scotland, under one Imperial Crown: so often do we think, that it is our duty, to do our uttermost endeavour, for the advancement and perfection of that work, which is of his beginning, and whereof he hath given so many palpable signs and arguments, as he that seeth them not, is blind, and he that impugneth them, doeth but endeavour to separate that, which God hath put together. For, to omit those things which are evident to sense, that the Isle within it self hath almost none but imaginary bounds of separation without, but one common limit or rather guard of the ocean sea, making the whole a little world within it self, the Nations an uniformity of constitutions both of body and mind, especially in Martial pro- cesses, a community of language, the principal means of Civil Society, an unity of religion, the chiefest band of hearty union, and the surest knot of lasting peace: what can be a more express testimony of God’s authority of this work, then that two mighty Nations, having been ever from their fi rst separation continually in blood each against other, should for so many years immediately before our succession, be at peace together, as it were to this end, that their memory being free from sense of the smart of former injuries, their minds might, in the time of God’s appointment, more willingly come together, that it hath pleased him so to dispose, that this union is not enforced by conquest and violence, nor contracted by doubtful and deceivable points of transaction, but naturally derived from the right and title of the precedent Princes of both Kingdoms, concurring in our person, alike lineally descended from the blood of both through the sacred conjunction of Wedlock, an union which is the work of God and Nature, and whereunto the works of force or policy cannot attain. We may add hereunto that which we have received from those that be skilful in the Laws of this land, that immediately upon our succession, divers of the ancient Laws of this Realm are Ipso facto expired, as namely, that of Escuage, and of the naturalization of the subjects, and that there is a greater affi nity and concurrence between most of the ancient Laws of both Kingdoms, then is to be found between those of any other two Nations, as namely, in States of inheritance and freehold, as fee-simple, fee-taile, tenant for life, by courtesy, dower, and such like, in cases of descents of inheritance, in tenures of lands, as of Knights’ service, Socage, Franke Almoigne, Burgage, Villenage, and such like, in writs and forms of Process, in cases of trial by juries, grand juries; and lastly in offi cers and Ministers of Justice, as sheriffs, coroners, and such like, which we leave to be further considered by the Commissioners of both Realms. All which being matter prepared only by the Providence of Almighty God, and which by humane industry could not have been so ordered; we, and all our subjects ought fi rst with reverence to acknowledge his handy work therein, and to give him our most humble thanks for the same, and then to further by our endeavours that, which his wisdom doth by so many signs point out to be his will: whereof many particularities depending upon the determinations of the States and Parliaments of both Realms, we leave them there to be discussed, according to the Commissions granted by the several acts of both Parliaments. And some other things resting in our own imperial power, as the head of both, we are purposed towards the building of this excellent work, to do by our self that, which justly and safely we may by our absolute power do. And for a fi rst stone of this work, whereupon the rest may be laid, seeing there is undoubtedly but one head to both peoples, which is our self; and that unfainedly we have but one heart and mind to communicate equally to both States, as lines issuing from one centre, our justice, Lochithea 285 our favours, and whatsoever else dependeth upon the Unity of our supreme power over both, (God having ministered to us so just cause to embrace them both with equal and indifferent love, in as much as our Birth, and the fi rst part of our life bath been in the one, and the later part thereof is like to be for the most part in the other:) we think it unreasonable, that the thing, which is by the work of God and Nature so much in effect one, should not be one in name; unity in name being so fi t a means to imprint in the hearts of people a character and memorial of that unity, which ought to be amongst them indeed. Wherefore we have thought good to discontinue the divided names of England and Scotland out of our Regal Stile, and do intend and resolve to take and assume unto us in manner and forme hereafter expressed, the name and stile of King of Great Brittaine, including therein according to the trueth, the whole Island. Wherein no man can imagine us to be led by an humour of vainglory or ambition, because we should in that case, rather delight in a long enumeration of many Kingdoms and Seigniories, (whereof in our inheritance we have plenty enough, if we thought there were glory in that kind of stile) but only that we use it as a signifi cation of that, which in part is already done, and a signifi cant prefi guration of that, which is to be done hereafter; nor that we covet any new affected name devised at our pleasure, but out of undoubted knowledge do use the true and ancient name, which God and Time have imposed upon this Isle, extant, and received in histories, in all maps and Cartes, wherein this Isle is described, and in ordinary letters to our self from divers foreign Princes, warranted also by authenticall charters, exemplifi cations under scales, and other records of great antiquity, giving us president for our doing, not borrowed out of foreign Nations, but from the acts of our progenitors, Kings of this Realm of England, both before and since the Conquest, having not had so just and great cause as we have. Upon all which considerations we do by these presents, by force of our Kingly power and prerogative, assume to our self by the clearness of our right, the name and stile of King Of Great Brittaine, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c. as followeth in our just and lawful stile, and do hereby publish, promulge and declare the same, to the end that in all proclamations, missives foreign, and domesticall, treaties, leagues, dedicatories, impressions, and in all other cases of like nature, the same may be used and observed. And to the end the same may be the sooner and more universally divulged both at home and abroad: our will and pleasure is, that the same stile be from henceforth used upon all inscriptions upon our currant moneys and coins of gold and silver hereafter to be minted. And for that we do not innovate or assume to us any new thing, but declare that which is and hath been evident to all; our will and pleasure is, that in such appellations or nominations, as shall be hereafter made by force of these presents, the same shall be expressed in such and the same manner and forme, and after such computation, as if we had assumed and declared the same the fi rst day of our Reign of our Realm of England; forbearing only for the present that any thing herein contained do extend to any legal proceeding, instrument, or assurance, until further order be taken in that behalf. Given at our Palace of Westminster the twentieth day of October, in the second year of our Reign of England, France and Ireland, and of Scotland the eight and thirtieth. God save the King. King James 286 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

New Year’s night, and Robin Goodfellow’s play is performed bearing in conclusion of a Masque brought in by a magician of China; there is a heaven built at the lower end of the hall out of which our magician comes down, and after he has made a long sleepy speech to the King of the nature of the country from whence he comes, comparing it with ours for strength and plenty, he says he has brought in clouds, certain Indian and China Knights to see the magnifi cency of this Court; and thereupon a traverse is drawn and the maskers seen sitting in a vaulty place with their torchbearers and other lights, which is no unpleasing spectacle. Be on which side you will Reader, you have as fair a game to play as Dr. Dee completes his works on A Treatise of the Rosei Crucean Secrets and upon mine prose elegy In felicem memoriam Elizabethæ Angliæ reginæ that contains a short account of the felicities of Queen Elizabeth I’s reign, which I send a copy to France, to Sir George Carey; because one must begin, methinks, to provoke his remembrance of me by a letter: and thinking to fi t it with somewhat besides salutations, it cometh to my mind, that this last summer vacation, by occasion of a factious book that endeavoured to verify Misera Fæmina (the addition of the Pope’s Bull) upon Queen Elizabeth; I do write a few lines in her memorial, which I think Sir George Carey shall be pleased to read, both of the argument; and because her were wont to bear affection to my pen. Verum ut aliud ex alio, if it came handsomely to pass, I be glad the President de Thuanus Thou (who hath written an history, as I know, of that Fame and Diligence) see it: chiefl y, because I know not, whether it may not serve him for some use in his story: wherein I be glad he did right to the truth, and to the memory of that Lady; as I perceive by that he hath already written, he is well inclined to do. I then forward a copy to Tobie Matthew, with this note: “I heartily thank you for your letter, and am glad to receive from you matter both of encouragement and of advertisement touching my writing. For my part, I do wish that since there is no lumen siccum in the world but all madidum and maceratum infused in affections and bloods or humours, that these things of mine had those separations that might make them more acceptable: so that they claim not so much acquaintance of the present times as they be thereby the less apt to last. And to shew you that I have some purpose to new mould them; I send you a leaf or two of the preface carrying some fi gure of the whole work. Wherein I purpose to take that which I count real and effectual of both writings and chiefl y to add a pledge, (if not payment,) to my promises, I send you also a memorial of Queen Elizabeth, to requite your eulogy of the late Duke of Florence’s felicity. Of this, when you were here, I shewed you some model; at what time, (methought,) you were more willing to hear Julius Cæsar than Queen Elizabeth commended. But this which I send is more full, and hath more of the narrative: and further hath one part that I think will not be disagreeable either to you or to that place; being the true tract of her proceedings towards the Catholics, which are infi nitely mistaken. And though I do not imagine they will pass allowance there, yet they will gain upon excuse. I fi nd Mr. Lezure to use you well, (I mean his tongue of you,) which shews you either honest or wise. But this I speak merrily, for in good faith I do conceive hope that you will so govern you self, as we may take you as assuredly for a good subject and patriot, as you take your self for a good Christian; and so we may again enjoy your company and you your conscience if it may no other ways be. For my part, assure your self, (as we say in the law,) mutates mutandis, my love, and good wishes to you, are not diminished.” Lochithea 287

On the Fortunate Memory of Elizabeth Queen of England.84 Elizabeth both in her nature and her fortune was a wonderful person among women, a memorable person among Princes. But it is not to monks or closet penmen that we are to look for guidance in such a case; for men of that order, being keen in style, poor in judgment, and partial in feeling, are no faithful witnesses as to the real passages of business. It is for ministers and great offi cers to judge of these things, and those who have handled the helm of government, and been acquainted with the diffi culties and mysteries of state business. The government of a woman has been a rare thing at all times; felicity in such government a rarer thing still; felicity and long continuance together the rarest thing of all. Yet this Queen reigned forty-four years complete, and did not outlive her felicity. Of this felicity I purpose to say something; without wandering into praises; for praise is the tribute of men, but felicity the gift of God. First, then, I set it down as part of her felicity that she was raised to sovereignty from a private fortune; not so much because of that feeling so deeply seated in man’s nature, whereby benefi ts which come unexpected and unhoped for are always counted the greater blessings; but because who are brought up in the reigning house with assured expectation of succeeding to the throne, are commonly spoiled by the indulgence and licence of their education, and so turn out both less capable and less temperate. And therefore you will fi nd that the best Kings are they who have been trained in both schools of fortune; such as Henry the Seventh with us, and Lewis the Twelfth in France; both of whom, of late years and almost at the same time, came to their kingdoms not only from a private but from an adverse and troubled fortune; and both were eminently prosperous; the one excelling in wisdom, the other in justice. Much like was the case of this Queen, whose early times and opening prospects fortune chequered with uncertainty, that afterwards when she was settled in the throne it might prove to the last constant and equable. For Elizabeth at her birth was destined to the succession, then disinherited, afterwards superseded. Her fortune in her brother’s reign was more propitious and serene, in her sister’s more troubled and

84 Dr. Rawley states that “this work, his Lordship so much affected that he had ordained by his last will and testament to have had it published many years since; but that singular person entrusted therewith soon after deceased, and therefore it must expect a time to come forth amongst his Lordship’s other Latin works.” It should be noted that in Lord Bacon’s two versions of his will and testament, there is no mention of this piece. Spedding puts the matter to rest by saying, “it related to state affairs with which Bacon’s offi cial position had made him acquainted, he may have thought that it ought not to be published without the sanction of a Privy Councillor,—for we know that he had this scruple with regard to the publication of his own letters;—“Also whereas I have made up two register-books, the one of my orations or speeches, the other of my epistles or letters, whereof there may be use, and yet because they touch upon business of state they are not fi t to be put into the hands but of some Counsellor, I do devise and bequeath them,” &c.,—Last Will; and among all the Privy Councillors then living the man whom he would most naturally select for such a trust was his old and much revered friend Bishop Andrews, who survived him only but a few months.” 288 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals doubtful. And yet she did not pass suddenly from the prison85 to the throne, with a mind embittered and swelling with the sense of misfortune, but was fi rst restored to liberty and comforted with expectation; and so came to her Kingdom at last quietly and prosperously, without tumult or competitor. All which I mention to show how Divine Providence, meaning to produce an excellent Queen, passed her by way of preparation through these several stages of discipline. Nor ought the calamity of her mother to be admitted as an objection to the dignity of her birth: the rather because it is clear that Henry the Eighth had fallen in love with another woman before he fell in anger with Anne, and because he has not escaped the censure of posterity as a man by nature extremely prone both to loves and suspicions, and violent in both even to the shedding of blood. And besides, the criminal charge in which she was involved was in itself, if we consider only the person to whom it related, improbable, and rested upon the slenderest conjectures; as was secretly whispered (as the manner is in such cases) even then, and Anne herself just before her death with a high spirit and in memorable words made protestation. For having procured a messenger whose fi delity and good will she thought she could trust, she sent the King, in the very hour when she was preparing of the scaffold, a message to his effect: “That he kept constant to his course of heaping honours upon her; from a gentlewoman without title he had made her marchioness; he has then raised her to be the partner of his throne and bed; and now at last, because there remained no higher step of earthly honour, he had vouchsafed to crown her innocence with martyrdom.” Which words the messenger durst not indeed carry to the King, who was then in the heat of a new love; but fame, the vindicator of truth, transmitted them to posterity. Another principal thing, which I cast into Queen Elizabeth’s felicity, was the time and period of her reign; not only for that it was long, but also because it fell into that season of her life, which was most active and fi ttest for the swaying of a sceptre, for she was fully fi ve-and-twenty years old (at which age the civil law freeth from a curator) when she same to the crown, and reigned to the seventieth year of her life; so that she never suffered either the detriments of pupilage, and check of an over-awing power, or the inconveniences of an impotent and unwieldy old age; and old age is not without a competent portion of miser-

85 Paul Hentzner & Sir Robert Naunton: Travels in England and Fragmenta Regalia, 1892: While Queen Elizabeth was detained in the Tower she wrote with a piece of charcoal the following verse (composed by herself) upon a window shutter:— O Fortune! How thy restless wavering state Hath fraught with cares my troubled wit! Witness this present prison whither fate Hath borne me, and the joys I quit. Thou causedest the guilty to be loosed From bands wherewith are innocents enclosed; Causing the guiltless to be strait reserved, And freeing those that death had well deserved: But by her envy can be nothing wrought, So God send to my foes all they have thought. A.D., M.D.L.V. Elizabeth, Prisoner. Lochithea 289 ies, even to private men; but to Kings, besides the common burden of years, it brings for the most part a declining in the estates they govern, and a conclusion of their lives without honour. For there hath scarce been known a king that hath lived to an extreme and impotent old age, but he hath suffered some detriment in his territories, and gone less in his reputation. Of which thing there is a most eminent example in Philip the Second, King of Spain, a most puissant Prince, and an excellent governor, who, in the last years of his life, and impotent old age, was sensible of this whereof we speak; and therefore with great circumspection submitted himself to nature’s law, voluntarily surrendered the territories he had gotten in France, established a fi rm peace in that Kingdom, attempted the like in other places, that so he might transmit his Kingdoms peaceable and entire to his next heir. Contrariwise, Queen Elizabeth’s fortune was so constant and deeply rooted, that no disaster in any of her dominions accompanied her indeed declining, but still able years: nay, further, for an undeniable token of her felicity, she died not before the rebellion in Ireland was fortunately decided, and quashed by a battle there, lest otherwise it might have defal- cated from the total sum of her glory. Now the condition also of the people over whom she reigned, I take to be a matter worthy our observation; for if her lot had fallen amongst the desolate Palmyrenes, or in Asia, a soft and effeminate race of men, a woman-prince might have been suffi cient for a womanish people; but for the English, a nation stout and warlike, to be ruled by the check of a woman, and to yield to humble obedience to her, is a thing deserving the highest admiration. Neither was this disposition of her people (hungry of war, and unwillingly bowing to peace) any impediment to her, but that she enjoyed and maintained peace all her days: and this desire in her of peace, together with her fortunate accomplishment thereof, I reckon to be one of chiefest praises. For this was happy for her time, comely for her sex, and comfortable to her conscience. Indeed, about the tenth year of her reign, there was an offer of a commotion in the northern parts, but it was soon laid asleep and extinguished; but all her reign beside was free from the least breath or air of civil broils. Now I judge the peace maintained by her to be the more eminent for two causes, which indeed make nothing for the merit of that peace, but much for the honour: the one, that it was set off, and made more conspicuous by the broils and dissensions of neighbouring nations, as it were by so many lights and torches: the other, that amidst the benefi ts of peace she lost not the honour of arms; insomuch, that the reputation of the English arms was not only preserved, but also advanced by her upon many glorious occasions. For the succours sent into the Netherlands, France, and Scotland, the expeditions by sea into both the Indies, whereof some circled the whole globe of the earth; the fl eets sent into Portugal, and to annoy the coasts of Spain: and lastly, the often suppressions and overthrows of the rebels in Ireland, did both show the warlike prowess of our nation to be no wit diminished, and did much increase the renown of the Queen. There was another thing that did greatly advance her glory; that both by her timely succours, her neighbour Kings were settled in their rightful thrones, and the suppliant people, who by the ill advisedness of their Kings were abandoned, and given over to the cruelty of their ministers, and to the fury of the multitude, and to all manner of butchery 290 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and desolation, were relieved by her; by reason whereof they subsist unto this day. Neither was she a Princess less benign and fortunate in the infl uence of her counsels than of her succours; as being one that had oftentimes interceded to the King of Spain, to mitigate his wrath against his subjects in the Netherlands, and to reduce them to his obedience upon some tolerable conditions; and further, as being one that did perpetually and upon all occasions represent to the French Kings the observation of their own edicts, so often declaring and promising peace to their subjects. I cannot deny but that these good counsels of hers wanted the effect: in the former I verily believe for the universal good of Europe, lest happily the ambition of Spain, being unloosed from its fetters, should have poured itself (as things then stood) upon the other Kingdoms and States of Christendom: and for the latter, the blood of so many innocents with their wives and children slain within their own harbours and nests by the scum of the people, (who like so many mastiffs were let loose, and heartened, and even set upon them by the state,) would not suffer it; which did continually cry unto God for vengeance, that so blood-sucking a Kingdom might have her fi ll thereof, in the intestine slaughters and consumption of a civil war. Howsoever she persisted to perform the part of a wise and loving confederate. There is another cause also, for which we may justly admire this peace so constantly pursued and maintained by the Queen. And that is, that it did not proceed from any bent or inclination of those times; but from the prudence of her government and discreet carriage of things. For whereas she herself was not without manifest danger from an ill-affected party at home for the cause of religion, and that the strength and forces of this Kingdom were in the place of a bulwark to all Europe against the then dreadful and overfl owing ambition and power of the King of Spain, she might have apprehended just cause of a war; but as she was still ready with her counsel, so she was not behindhand with her forces. And this we are taught by an event the most memorable of any in our time, if we look upon the felicity thereof. For when as the Spanish navy (set forth with such wonderful preparation in all kinds, the terror and amazement of all Europe, carried on with almost assurance of victory) came braving upon our seas; it took not so much as one poor cock-boat of ours, nor fi red any one village, nor landed one man upon English ground; but was utterly defeated, and after a shameful fl ight and many shipwrecks quite dispersed, so as the peace of this kingdom was never more fi rm and solid. Neither was her felicity less in escaping treacherous attempts at home, than in subduing and defeating foreign invasions. For not a few treasons discovered and disappointed. And this was no cause to make her lead a more fearful or diffi dent life than before. No new increase of her guard, no immuring herself within her own walls, or forbearing to be seen abroad; but as one assured and confi dent, and that was more mindful of her escape from danger, than of the danger itself, she was constant to her former customs and fashions. Furthermore, it is worth our labour to consider the nature of the times in which she reigned. For there are some times so barbarous and ignorant that it is no greater matter to govern people than to govern a fl ock of sheep. But this Queen fell upon times of a singular learning and suffi ciency; in which it was not possible to be eminent, without admirable endowments of wit, and a rare temper of virtue. Again, the reigns of women are for the most part obscured by their husbands; upon whom all their praises and worthy acts do Lochithea 291 refl ect: as for those that continue unmarried, it is they that impropriate the whole glory and merit to themselves. And this was the peculiar glory of this Princess that she had no props or supports of her government, but those that were of her own making. She had no brother, the son of her mother; no uncle, none other of the royal blood and lineage that might be partner in her cares, and no upholder of the regal dignity. And as for those whom she raised to honour, she carried such a discreet hand over them, and so interchanged her favours as they still strived in emulation and desire to please her best, and she herself remained in all things an absolute Princess. Childless she was, and left no issue behind her; which was the case of many of the most fortunate Princes, Alexander the Great, Julius Cæsar, Trajan, and others. And this is a case that hath been often controverted and argued on both sides, whilst some hold the want of children to be a diminution of our happiness, as if it should be an estate more than human to be happy both in our own persons, and in our descendants, but others do account the want of children as an addition to earthly happiness, inasmuch as that happiness may be said to complete, over which fortune hath no power, when we are gone: which if we leave children cannot be. She had also many outward gifts of nature. A tall stature; a comely and straight making; an extraordinary majesty of aspect, joined with a sweetness; a most happy and constant healthfulness of body. Unto which I may add, that in the full possession both of her limbs and spirits until her last sickness, having received no blow from fortune, nor decay from old age; she obtained that which Augustus Cæsar so importunately prayed for; and easy and undistempered passage out of this world. Which also is reported of Antoninus Pius, that excellent Emperor; whose death had the resemblance of some soft and pleasing slumber. So in Queen Elizabeth’s disease, there was no ghastly or fearful accident; no idleness of brain; nothing unaccustomed to man in general: she was transported either with desire of life, or tediousness of sickness, or extremity of pain; she had no grievous or uncommonly symptoms, but all things were of that kind, as did rather show the frailty of nature, than a deordination or reproach of it. For some few days before her death, being much pined with the extreme drought of her body, and those cares that accompany a crown, and not wonted to refresh herself with wine, or any liberal diet, she was struck with a torpor and frigidity in her nerves; notwithstanding, which is rare in such diseases, she retained both her speech, and memory, and motion, though but slow and weak, even to the end. And in this case she continued but a few days; so as it can be called the last act of her life, but the fi rst step to her death. For as it is a miserable condition to see the faculties of our body buried before us; and to survive long after them; so it is a fair and natural conclusion of our life, when the senses are by little and little laid asleep, that the dissolution of the whole should immediately follow. I will add one thing more to make up the full measure of her felicity: which is, that she was not only most happy in her own person, but in the abilities and virtues of her servants and ministers, for she was served by such persons as I suppose this island never brought forth the like before her times. Now when God beareth a love to Kings, no doubt He raiseth up the spirits of wise servants as a concurrent blessing. 292 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

There are two fair issues of her happiness, born to her since her death, I conceive not less glorious and eminent than those she enjoyed alive. The one of her successor, the other of her memory. For she had gotten such a successor, who although, for his masculine virtues, and blessing of posterity, and addition of territories, he may be said to exceed her greatness and somewhat to obscure it; notwithstanding, he is most zealous of her name and glory; and doth even give a perpetuity to her acts, considering both in the choice of the persons, and in the orders and institutions of the Kingdom, he hath departed so little from her, so as a son could hardly succeed a father with less noise of innovation. As for her memory, it hath gotten such life in the mouths and hearts of men, as that envy being put out by her death, and her fame lighted, I cannot say whether the felicity of her life, or the felicity of her memory be the greater. For if, perhaps, there ﬂ y abroad any factious fames of her, raised either by discontented persons, or such as are averse in religion; which notwithstanding, dare now scarce show their faces, and are everywhere cried down; the same are neither true, neither can they be long-lived. And for this cause, especially, have I made this collection, such as it is, touching her felicity, and the marks of God’s favour towards her; that no malicious person should dare to interpose a curse, where God hath given a blessing. Now if any man shall allege that against me, was once said to Cæsar; “we see what we may admire, but we would fain see what we can comment;” certainly, for my part, I hold true admiration to be the highest degree of commendation. And besides such felicities as we have recounted could not befall any Princess, but such a one as was extraordinarily supported and cherished by God’s favour; and had much in her own person, and rare virtues, to create and work out unto herself such a fortune. Notwithstanding, I have thought good to insert something now concerning her moral part, yet only in those things, which have ministered, occasion to some malicious to traduce her. This Queen, as touching her religion, was pious, moderate, constant, and an enemy to novelty. First, for her piety, though the same was most conspicuous in her acts and the form of government; yet it was portrayed also in the common course of her life, and her daily comportment. Seldom would she be absent from hearing divine service, and other duties of religion, either in her chapel, or in her privy closet. In the reading of the Scriptures, and the writings of the fathers, especially of Saint Augustine, she was very frequent; she composed certain prayers herself to emergent occasions. Whensoever she named God, thought it was in common discourse, she could for the most part add the title of Maker, saying, God my Maker: and compose both her eyes and countenance to a submissness and reverence. This I have often, myself, observed, being in her presence; now whereas some have divulged her unmindfulness of mortality, in that she would never endure any mention either of her age, or death, is most false: for she would often, and that many years before her death, with a great deal of meekness profess that she found herself grown an old woman, and she would sometimes open herself what she liked best for an inscription upon her tomb, saying, that she loved no pompous or vainglori- ous titles, but would only have a line or two for her memory, wherein her name and her Lochithea 293

virginity, and the years of her reign, and her establishing of religion, and her maintaining of peace, should be in the fewest words comprehended. It is true, that whilst she was in her vigorous years, and able to bear children, if at any time she was moved to declare her successor, she would make answer, that she would never endure to see her winding-sheet before her eyes. And yet, notwithstanding, some few years before her death, one day when she was in deep meditation, and, as it may be guessed, in that of her mortality, one that might be bold said unto her, “Madam, there are divers offi ces, and great places in the state, which you keep long void.” She arose up in some displeasure, and said, “I am sure my offi ce will not long be void.” As for her moderateness in religion, I shall seem to be at a stand, in regard of the severe laws made against her subjects of the Romish religion: notwithstanding, that which I shall say is no more than what I know for certain, and diligently observed. Most certain it is, that it was the fi rm resolution of this Princess not to offer any violence to consciences; but then on the other side, not to suffer the state of her Kingdom to be ruined under pretence of conscience and religion. Out of this fountain she concluded; fi rst, that to allow freedom and toleration of two religions by public authority, in a nation fi erce and warlike, and that would easily fall from discension of minds to siding and blows, would bring inevitable ruin to this Kingdom. Again, in the newness of her reign, when there was a general distrust, she singled out some of the Bishops of the most turbulent and factious spirits, and committed them to free custody; and this not without the warrant of former laws. As for the rest, either of the clergy or laity, she did not ransack their consciences by any severe inquisition, but rather secured them by a gracious connivance: and this was the state of things at the fi rst. Neither did she depart from this clemency, when the Excommunication of Pius Quintus came thundering against, her, which might both justly have provoked her, and have ministered occasion to new courses; but howsoever she followed her royal nature still: for as a wise Lady, and of a high courage, she was not a white terrifi ed at the roaring of a bull, being well assured of her people’s love and fi delity towards her, as also of the disability of the popish faction within the Kingdom to do her hurt, if no foreign enemy joined with them. But then, about the three-and-twentieth year of her reign there followed a mighty change. And this distinction of the times is not any device of mine, but it is expressed in the public acts of that time, and as it were cut in brass; for before that year was there never any capital or severe punishment infl icted upon any of her subjects, as they had relation to the Romish religion, by the laws formerly made. But just then began that proud and vast intention of Spain to conquer this Kingdom, by little and little to show itself. Of this the principal part was to stir up by all means a party within the Kingdom, of such as were ill affected to the state, and desirous of innovation, that might adhere to the foreigner at his landing. For this they had no other hopes than the difference in religion; wherefore they set it down to pursue this course with all their power: and the seminaries at that time budding, priests were sent into England to plant and disperse a love to the Romish religion; to teach and inculcate the power of the Pope’s Excommunication in 294 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals freeing subjects from their allegiance, and to awaken and prepare the minds of men to an expectation of a change. About the same time, Ireland also was attempted by an invasion, and the Queen’s name and government traduced by sundry and scandalous libels. To be short, there was an unusual swelling in the state, the forerunner of greater troubles: yet I will affi rm, that every priest which was sent over was made of the Council, or privy to the enterprise, but that some of them became the wicked instruments only of other men’s malice. Notwithstanding this is true, and witnessed by the confession of many, that almost all the priests which were sent into the kingdom from that aforenamed year, unto the thirtieth year of Queen Elizabeth’s reign, at which time that design of the Pope and Spain was put into execution, by those memorable preparation of the navy and land forces, had in their instruction, besides other parts of their function, to distil and insinuate into the people these particulars: “It was impossible things should continue at the stay: they should see ere long a great change in this state; that the Pope and Catholic Princes were careful for the English, if they would not be want be wanting to themselves.” Again, sundry of the priests did manifestly interpose themselves into those consultation and plots which tended to the undermining and ruining of this Kingdom: and, which especially moved her, letters were intercepted out of divers parts that discovered the true face of the plot; in which was written, that they doubted not to go beyond the vigilance of the Queen and state in the matter of Catholics; for the Queen would only have an eye lest there should arise any fi t head, in the person of some Lord, or other eminent gentleman of quality, under whom the Catholics might unite; but they had thought upon another course, as namely, by private men, and those but of mean rank, that should not confer, nor scarce know of each other’s employments, to prepare and mature the business by secrecy of confession. And these were their engines, the which, as hath appeared since in a case not much unlike, are usual and familiar to that order of men. In this great deluge of danger, there was a necessity imposed upon Queen Elizabeth to restrain, by some sharper bands of laws, that part of her subjects which were alienated from her, and had drunk too deep a draught of this poison ever to recover; and further, which by their retired living, and exemption from public offi ces, were grown very rich: and moreover, the mischief daily growing, when as the cause thereof was ascribed to none other than the seminary priests, who had been nourished in foreign parts, and received exhibition from the bounty and aims of foreign Princes, professed enemies to this state; and who had conversed in such places where the name of Queen Elizabeth was never heard, but as of a heretic, and excommunicate, and accursed person; and who, though themselves, sometimes, had no hand in treason, yet they were known to be the intimate friends of them that had. And lastly, who by their arts and poisons had infected and soured the mass and lump of the Catholics, which before was more sweet and harmless, with a new kind of leaven, and desperate maliciousness: there could no other remedy be devised, but by forbidding such persons to enter into this Kingdom upon pain of their lives; which at last, in the twenty-seventh year of her reign, was accordingly done. Nay, and when the event itself had confi rmed this to be true, I mean immediately after that the dreadful tempest arose from Spain, threatening no less than utter desolation, yet did it nothing mollify or turn Lochithea 295 the edge of these men’s malice and fury, but rather whetted it, as if they had cast off all natural affection to their country. As for the times succeeding, I mean after the thirtieth year of her reign, though indeed our fear of Spain, which had been the spur to this rigour, had fairly breathed out, or was well abated; yet considering the memory of times past had made so deep impression in men’s hearts and cogitations, and that it would have seemed either inconstancy to repeal those former laws, or sloth to neglect them, the very constitution of things did suggest to the Queen, that it was not safe to reduce them unto that state wherein they had continued until the three-and-twentieth year of her reign. Hereunto may be added the industry of some persons in improving the revenues of the Exchequer, and the zeal of some other ministers of justice, which did never think their country safe unless the laws were rigorously executed; all which did importune and press the execution of the laws. Notwithstanding, the Queen, for a manifest token of her royal nature, did so dull the edge of the laws, that but a very few priests, in respect of their number, did suffer death. Now all this which I have said is not by way of defence, for the matter needs it not; for neither could this Kingdom have been safe without it, neither were the proceedings any way comparable or of kin to those bloody and unchristian massacres in the Catholic countries, which proceeded merely from rancour and pride, and not from any necessity of state: howsoever, I hope I have made my fi rst assertion good, that she was moderate in the point of religion, and that the change which happened was not in her nature, but upon the necessity of the time. Now for the constancy of Queen Elizabeth in religion, and the observance thereof, I know no better argument than this, that although she found the Romish religion confi rmed in her sister’s days by act of parliament and established by all strong and potent means that could be devised, and to have taken deep root in this Kingdom; and that all those which had any authority, or bore any offi ce in the state, had subscribed to it: yet for that she saw that it was not agreeable to the word of God, nor to the primitive purity, nor to her own conscience, she did, with a great deal of courage, and with the assistance of a very persons, quite expel and abolish it. Neither did she this by precipitate and heady course, but timing it wisely and soberly. And this may well be conjectured, as from the thing itself, so also by an answer of her, which she made upon occasion. For within a very few days of her coming to the crown, when many prisoners were released out of prison, as the custom is at the inauguration of a Prince, there came to her one day as she was going to chapel, a certain Courtier that had the liberty of a buffoon, and either out of this own motion, or by the instigation of a wiser man, presented her with a petition: and before a great number of Courtiers, said to her with a loud voice, “That there were yet four or fi ve prisoners unjustly detained in prison; he came to be a suitor to have them set at liberty; those were the four evangelists, and the Apostle Saint Paul, who had been long shut up in an unknown tongue, as it were in prison, so as they could not converse with the common people.” The Queen answered very gravely, “That it was best fi rst to inquire of them, whether they would be set at liberty or no.” Thus she silenced an unseasonable motion with a doubtful answer, as reserving the matter wholly in her own power. Neither did she bring in this alteration timorously, or by pieces, but in a grave and mature manner, after a conference betwixt both side, and the calling and conclusion of a Parliament. And thus within the compass of one 296 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals year, she did so establish and settle all matters belonging to the church, as she departed not one hair’s breath from them to the end of her life: nay, and her usual custom was, in the beginning of every Parliament, to forewarn the houses not to question or innovate any thing already established in the discipline or rites of the church. And thus much of her religion. Now if there by any severer nature that shall tax her for that she suffered herself, and was very willing to be courted, wooed, and to have sonnets made in her commendation; and that she continued this longer than was decent for her years: notwithstanding, if you will take this matter at the best it is not without singular admiration, being much like unto that which we fi nd in fabulous narrations, of a certain Queen in the fortunate Island and of her Court and fashions, where fair purpose and love making was allowed, but lasciviousness banished.86 But if you will take it at the worst, even so it amounted to a more high admiration, considering that these courtships did not much eclipse her fame, and not at all her Majesty; neither did they make her less apt for government, or choke with the affairs and businesses of the public, for such passages as these do often entertain the time even with the greatest Princes. But to make an end of this discourse, certainly this Princess was good and moral, and such she would be acknowledged; she detested vice, and desired to purchase fame only by honourable courses. And indeed whilst I mention her moral parts, here comes a certain passage into my mind which I will insert. Once giving order to write to her Ambassador about certain instructions to be delivered apart to the Queen Mother of the house of Valois, and that her secretary had inserted a certain clause that the Ambassador should say, as it were to endear her to the Queen Mother, “That they two were the only pair of female Princes, from whom, for experience and arts of government, there was no less expected than from the greatest Kings.” She utterly disliked the comparison, and commanded it to be put out, saying, “That she practiced other principles and arts of government than the Queen Mother did.” Besides she was not a little pleased, if any one should fortune to tell her, that suppose she had lived in a private fortune, yet she could not have escaped without some note of excellency and singularity in her sex. So little did she desire to borrow or be beholding to her fortune for her praise. But if I should wade further into this Queen’s praises, moral or politic, either I must slide into certain commonplaces, and heads of virtue, which were not worthy of so great a Princess: or if I should desire to give her virtues the true grace and luster, I must fall into a history of her life, which requireth both better leisure and a better pen than mine is. Thus much in brief according to my ability: but to say the truth, the only commender of this Lady’s virtues is time; which for as many ages as it hath run, hath not yet showed us one of the female sex equal to her in the administration of a Kingdom. Finis.

86 The memoriam text in Spedding’s Works, vol. xi differs much from this text taken from the Resuscitatio, 1657; I shall only add that Spedding had “not been able to learn what romance Bacon alludes to here.” Lochithea 297

King James I., begineth to pay attention to the received liturgy, and decides that some things in it must be altered; in continuance, and surely in my opinion, there cannot be a more base, and yet hurtful, corruption in a country, then is the vile use (or other abuse) of taking tobacco in this Kingdom, which hath moved his Majesty, shortly to discover the abuses thereof in a little pamphlet. If any think it a light argument, so is it but a toy that is bestowed upon it. The use of tobacco has immensely increased in our time. It affects men with a kind of secret pleasure, so that persons once accustomed to it can scarce leave it off. It tends no doubt to relieve the body, and remove weariness; and its virtue is commonly thought to lie in this, that it opens the passages and draws off the humours. But it may be more properly referred to the condensation of the sprits; for it is a kind of henbane, and manifestly affects the head, as all opiates do.87 And since the subject is but of smoke, his Majesty thinketh the fume of an idle brain, may serve for a sufﬁ cient battery ’gainst so fumious and feeble an enemy: a custom loathsome to the eye, hateful to the nose, harmful to the brain, dangerous to the lungs, and in the black stinking fume thereof, nearest resembling the horrible Stigian smoke of the pit that is bottomless.88 ’Tis not tobacco my master at Trinity College, the Archbishop John White-Gift, dies of, but of chagrin of the same time that mine apology in certain imputations concerning the late Earl of Essex sees the press:

The Apology of Sr. Francis Bacon kt. In Certain Imputations Concerning The Late Earl of Essex Written To The Right Honourable His Very Good Lord, The Earl Of Devonshire, Lord lieutenant Of Ireland.89 It may please your good Lordship: I cannot be ignorant, and ought to be sensible of the wrong which I sustain in common speech, as if I had been false, or unthankful to that noble but unfortunate Earl, the Earl of Essex: and for satisfying the vulgar sort, I do not so much regard it; though I love a good name, but yet as an handmaid and attendant of honesty and virtue. For I am of his opinion that said pleasantly, That it was a shame to him that was a suitor to the mistress, to make love to the waiting woman; and therefore to woo or court common fame otherwise than it followeth on honest courses, I for my part, ﬁ nd not myself ﬁ t nor disposed. But on the other side, there is no worldly thing that concerneth my self which I hold more dear, than the good opinion of certain persons; amongst which there is none I would more willingly give satisfaction unto, than to your Lordship. First, because you loved my Lord of Essex, and therefore will not be partial towards me; which is part of that I desire, next, because it hath ever pleased you to shew your self to me an honourable friend; and so no baseness in me to seek to satisfy you: and lastly because I know your Lordship is excellently grounded in the true rules and habits of duties and moralities; which must be they which shall decide this matter: wherein (my Lord) my defence needeth to be but simple and brief: namely, that whatsoever I did concerning that

87 Francis Bacon: The History of Life and Death 88 Extract from King James I’s A Counterblast to Tobacco, 1604 89 Resuscitatio, 1657 298 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals action and proceeding, was done in my duty and service to the Queen and the State; in which I would not shew my self false-hearted, nor faint-hearted, for any man’s sake living. For every honest man that hath his heart well planted, will forsake his King, rather than forsake God; and forsake his friend, rather than forsake his King; and yet will forsake any earthly commodity, yea, and his own life in some cases, rather than forsake his friend. I hope the world hath not forgotten these degrees else the heathen saying; Amicus usque ad aras, shall judge them. And if any man shall say, I did offi ciously intrude my self into that business, because I had no ordinary place; the like may be said of all the business in effect that passed the hands of the Learned Counsel, either of state or revenues these many years, wherein I was continually used. For, as your Lordship may remember, the Queen knew her strength so well, as she looked her word should be a warrant; and after the manner of the choicest Princes before her, did not always tie her trust to place, but did sometime divide private favour from offi ce. And I for my part, though I was not so unseen in the world, but I knew the condition was subject to envy and peril; yet because I knew again she was constant in her favours, and made an end where she began, and specially, because she upheld me with extraordinary access, and other demonstrations of confi dence and grace, I resolved to endure it, in expectation of better. But my scope and desire is, that your Lordship would be pleased to have the honourable patience, to know the truth, in some particularity of all that passed in this cause, wherein I had any part, that you may perceive how honest a heart I ever bare to my Sovereign and to my country, and to that nobleman, who had so well deserved of me, and so well accepted of my deservings; whose fortune I cannot remember without much grief. But for any action of mine towards him, there is nothing that passed me in my life time, that cometh to my remembrance with more clearness, and less check of conscience: for it will appear to your Lordship, that I was not only not opposite to my Lord of Essex, but that I did occupy the utmost of my wits, and adventure my fortune with the Queen to have reintegrated his, and so continued faithfully and industriously, till his last fatal impatience (for so I will call it) after which day there was not time to work for him: though the same, my affection, when it could not work on the subject proper, went to the next, with no ill effect towards some others, who I think do rather not know it, than not acknowledge it. And this I will assure your Lordship, I will leave nothing untold, that is truth for any enemy that I have to add; and on the other side, I must reserve much which makes for me, upon many respects of duty, which I esteem above my credit: and what I have here set down to your Lordship, I protest, as I hope to have any part in God’s favour, is true. It is well known, how I did many years since dedicate my travels and studies, to the use and (as I may term it) service of my Lord of Essex, which I protest before God, I did not, making election of him as the likeliest mean of mine own advancement, but out of the humour of a man, that ever, from the time I had any use of reason (whether it were reading upon good books, or upon the example of a good father, or by nature) I loved my country more than was answerable to my fortune, and I held at that time, my Lord to be the fi ttest instrument to do good to the State; and therefore I applied myself to him, in a manner which I think happeneth rarely among men: for I did not only labour carefully and industriously in that he set me about, whether it were matter of advice or otherwise, but neglecting the Queen’s service, mine own fortune, and in a sort my vocation, I did Lochithea 299

nothing but advise and ruminate with my self to the best of my understanding, propositions and memorials, of any thing that might concern his Lordship’s honour, fortune, or service. And when not long after I entered into this course, my brother Mr. Anthony Bacon came from beyond the seas, being a gentleman whose ability the world taketh knowledge of for matters of state, specially foreign; I did likewise knit his service to be at my Lord’s disposing. And on the other side, I must and will ever acknowledge my Lord’s love, trust, and favour towards me, last of all his liberality, having infeofed [?] me of land which I sold for eighteen hundred pounds to Master Reynold Nicholas, and I think was more worth, and that at such a time, and with so kind and noble circumstances, as the manner was as much as the matter: which though it be but an idle digression, yet because I am not willing to be short in commemoration of his benefi ts, I will presume to trouble your Lordship with the relating to you the manner of it. After the Queen had denied me the Solicitors place, for the which his Lordship had been a long and earnest suitor on my behalf, it pleased him to come to me from Richmond to Twickenham Park, and brake with me, and said: Mr. Bacon, the Queen hath denied me the place for you, and hath placed another; I know you are the least part of your own matter, but you fare ill, because you have chosen me for your mean and dependence: you have spent your time and thoughts in my matters; I die (these were his very words) if I do not somewhat towards your fortune, you shall not deny to accept a piece of land, which I will bestow upon you. My answer I remember was, that for my fortune it was no great matter: but that his Lordship’s offer made me call to mind what was wont to be said when I was in France of the Duke of Guise, that he was the greatest usurer in France, because he had turned all his estate into obligations; meaning that he had left himself nothing, but only had bound numbers of persons to him. Now my Lord (said I) I would not have you imitate his course, nor turn your state thus by great gifts into obligations, for you will fi nd many bad debtors. He bade me take no care for that, and pressed it: whereupon I said, my Lord, I see I must be your homager, and hold land of your gift: but do you know the manner of doing homage in law? Always it is with a saying of his faith to the King and his other Lords, and therefore my Lord (said I) I can be no more yours than I was, and it may be with the ancient sayings: and if I grow to be a rich man, you will give me leave to give it back to some of your unrewarded followers. But to return, sure I am (though I can arrogate nothing to my self but that I was a faithful remembrance to his Lordship) that while I had most credit with him his fortune went on best. And yet in two main points we always directly and contradictorily differed, which I will mention to your Lordship, because it giveth light to all that followed. The one was, I ever set this down, that the only course to be held with the Queen, was by obsequiousness and observance; and I remember I would usually engage confi dently, that if he would take that course constantly, and with choice of good particulars to express it, the Queen would be brought in time to assuerus question, to ask, What should be done to the man, that the King would honour: meaning, that her goodness was without limit, where there was a true concurrence, which I knew in her nature to be true. My Lord, on the other side, had a settled opinion, that the Queen be brought to nothing, but by a kind of necessity and authority; and I well remember, when by violent courses at any time he had got his will he would ask me. Now Sir: whose principles be true? And I would again say to him: My Lord, these courses be like to hot waters, they will help 300 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals at a pang: but if you use them, you shall spoil the stomach, and you shall be fain still to make them stronger and stronger, and yet in the end they will less their operation: with much other variety, wherewith I used to touch that string. Another point was, that I always vehemently dissuaded him from seeking greatness by a military dependence, or by a popular dependence, as that which would breed in the Queen jealousy, in himself presumption, and in the state perturbation: and I did usually compare them to Icarus’ two wings which were joined on with wax, and would make him venture to soar too high, and then fail him at the height. And I would further say unto him: My Lord, stand upon two feet, and fl y not upon two wings. The two feet, are the two kinds of justice, commutative and distributive: use your greatness for advancing of merit and virtue, and relieving wrongs and burdens, you shall need no other art or fi neness: but he would tell me, that opinion came not from my mind, but from my robe. But it is very true, that I that never meant to enthral myself to my Lord of Essex, nor any other man, more than stood with the public good, did (though I could little prevail) divert him by all means possible from courses of the wars and popularity: for I saw plainly the Queen must either live or die; if she lived, then the times would be as in the declination of an old Prince; if she died, the times would be as in the beginning of a new: and that if his Lordship did rise too fast in these courses, the times might he dangerous for him, and he for them: Nay, I remember, I was thus plain with him upon his voyage to the islands, when I saw every spring put forth such actions of charge and provocation, that I said to him, My Lord, when I came fi rst unto you, I took you for a physician that desired to cure the diseases of the state; but now I doubt you will be like those physicians, which can be content to keep their patients low, because they would always be in request: which plainness he nevertheless took very well, as he had an excellent ear, and was patientis- simus veri, [truthfully patient] and assured me the case of the realm required it: and I think this speech of mine, and the like renewed afterwards, pricked him to write that apology which is in many men’s hands. But this difference in two points so main and material, bred in process of time a discontin- uance of privateness (as it is the manner of men seldom to communicate where they think their courses not approved) between his Lordship and my self; so as I was not called nor advised with, for some year and a half before his Lordship’s going into Ireland, as in former time: yet nevertheless, touching his going into Ireland, it pleased him expressly, and in a set manner to desire mine opinion and counsel. At which time I did not only dissuade, but protest against his going, telling him with as much vehemency and asseveration as I could, that absence in that kind would exulcerate the Queen’s mind, whereby it would not be possible for him to carry himself so, as to give her suffi cient contentment: nor for her to carry her self so, as to give him suffi cient countenance, which would be ill for her, ill for him, and ill for the state. And because I would omit no argument, I remember I stood also upon the diffi culty of the action: setting before him out of histories, that the Irish was such an enemy as the ancient Gauls, or Britons, or Germans were, and that we saw how the Romans, who had such discipline to govern their soldiers and such donatives to encourage them, and the whole world in a manner to levy them; yet when they came to deal with enemies which placed their felicity only in liberty, and the sharpness of their sword, and had the natural and elemental advantages of woods, and bogs, and hardness of bodies, they ever found they had their hands full of them, and therefore concluded that going over with such Lochithea 301 expectation as he did, and through the churlishness of the enterprise not like to answer it, would mightily diminish his reputation; and many other reasons I used, so as I am sure I never in any thing in my life time dealt with him in like earnestness by speech, by writing, and by all the means I could devise. For I did as plainly see his overthrow chained, as it were by destiny to that journey, as it is possible for a man to ground a judgment upon future contingents. But my Lord, howsoever his ear was open, yet his heart and resolution was shut against that advice, whereby his ruin might have been prevented. After my Lord’s going, I saw then how true a prophet I was, in regard of the evident alteration which naturally succeeded in the Queen’s mind; and thereupon I was still in watch to fi nd the best occasion that in the weakness of my power I could either take or minister, to pull him out of the fi re if it had been possible: and not long after, me thought I saw some overture thereof, which I apprehended readily; a particularity I think be known to very few, and the which I do the rather relate unto your Lordship, because I hear it should be talked, that while my Lord was in Ireland, I revealed some matters against him, or I cannot tell what; which if it were not a mere slander as the rest is, but had any, though never so little colour, was surely upon this occasion. The Queen one day at Nonesuch, a little (as I remember) before Cuffe’s coming over, I attending on her, shewed a passionate distaste of my Lord’s proceedings in Ireland, as if they were unfortunate, without judgment, contemptuous, and not without some private end of his own, and all that might be, and was pleased, as she spake of it to many that she trusted least, so to fall into the like speech with me; whereupon I who was still awake, and true to my grounds which I thought surest for my Lord’s good, said to this effect: Madam, I know not the particulars of estate, and I know this, that Princes’ actions must have no abrupt periods or conclusions, but otherwise I would think, that if you had my Lord of Essex here with a white staff in his hand, as my Lord of Leicester had, and continued him still about you for society to your self, and for an honour and ornament to your attendance and Court in the eyes of your people, and in the eyes of foreign Ambassadors, then were he in his right element: for, to discontent him as you do, and yet to put arms and power into his hands, may be a kind of temptation to make him prove cumbersome and unruly. And therefore if you would imponere bonam clausulam, and send for him, and satisfy him with honour here near you, if your affairs which (as I have said) I am not acquainted with, will permit it, I think were the best way. Which course your Lordship knoweth, if it had been taken then all had been well, and no contempt in my Lord’s coming over, nor continuance of these jealousies, which that employment of Ireland bred, and my Lord here in his former greatness. Well, the next news that I heard, was that my Lord was come over, and that he was committed to his chamber for leaving Ireland without the Queen’s licence: this was at Nonesuch, where (as my duty was) I came to his Lordship, and talked with him privately about a quarter of an hour, and he asked mine opinion of the course was taken with him; I told him: My Lord, Nubecula est, cito transibit: [it is but a mist]: but shall I tell your Lordship, it is as mists are, if it go upwards, it may perhaps cause a shower, if downwards it will clear up. And therefore good my Lord carry it so, as you take away by all means all umbrages and distastes from the Queen, and specially if I were worthy to advise you, (as I have been by your self thought, and now your question imports the continuance of that opinion) observe three points: First, make not this cessation or peace, which is concluded with Tyrone, as a service wherein you glory, but as a shuffl ing up of a prosecution which was not very fortunate. Next, represent not to the 302 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Queen any necessity of estate, whereby as by a coercion or wrench, she should think herself inforced to send you back into Ireland; but leave it to her. Thirdly, seek access importune, opportune, seriously sportingly every way. I remember my Lord was willing to hear me, but spake very few words, and shaked his head sometimes, as if he thought I was in the wrong; but sure I am, he did just contrary in every one of these three points. After this, during the while since my Lord was committed to my Lord Keeper’s, I came divers times to the Queen, as I had used to do, about causes of her revenue and law business, as is well known: by reason of which accesses, according to the ordinary charities of Court, it was given out, that I was one of them that incensed the Queen against my Lord of Essex. These speeches I cannot tell, nor I will not think that they grew any way from her Majesty’s own speeches, whose memory I will ever honour: if they did, she is with God, and miserum est ab illis lædi, de quibus non possis queri. But I must give this testimony to my Lord Cecil, that one time in his house at the Savoy he dealt with me directly, and said to me; Cousin, I hear it, but I believe it not, that you should do some ill offi ce to my Lord of Essex: for my part I am merely passive and not active in this action, and I follow the Queen, and that heavily, and I lead her not; my Lord of Essex is one that in nature I could consent with as well as with any one living; the Queen indeed is my Sovereign, and I am her creature, I may not lose her, and the same course I would wish you to take: whereupon I satisfi ed him how far I was from any such mind. And as sometimes it cometh to pass, that men’s inclinations are opened more in a toy, than in a serious matter: a little before that time, being about the middle of Michaelmas term, her Majesty had a purpose to dine at my lodge at Twickenham Park, at which time I had (though I profess not to be a poet) prepared a sonnet directly tending and alluding to draw on her Majesty’s reconcilement to my Lord, which I remember also, I shewed to a great person, and one of my Lord’s nearest friends, who commended it: this, though it be (as I said) but a toy, yet it shewed plainly in what spirit I proceeded, and that I was ready not only to do my Lord good offi ces, but to publish and declare myself for him; and never was so ambitious of any thing in my life time, as I was to have carried some token or favour from her Majesty to my Lord, using all the art I had, both to procure her Majesty to send, and my self to be the messenger: for as to the former I feared not to allege to her, that this proceeding toward my Lord, was a thing towards the people very implausible, and therefore wished her Majesty however she did, yet to discharge her self of it, and to lay it upon others; and therefore that she should intermix her proceeding with some immediate graces from her self, that the world might take knowledge of her princely nature and goodness, lest it should alienate the hearts of her people from her, which I did stand upon, knowing well that if she once relented to send or visit, those demonstrations would prove matter of substance for my Lord’s good. And to draw that employment upon my self, I advised her Majesty, that whensoever God should move her to turn the light of her favours towards my Lord, to make signifi cation to him thereof: that her Majesty, if she did it not in person, would at the least use some such mean as might not entitle themselves to any part of the thanks, as persons that were thought mighty with her to work her, or to bring her about; but to use some such as could not be thought but a mere conduct of her own goodness: but I could never prevail with her, though I am persuaded she saw plainly whereat I levelled: but she plainly had me in jealousy, that I was not hers entirely, but still had inward and deep respects towards my Lord, more than stood at that time with her will and pleasure. About the same time I remember an answer of mine in a matter which had Lochithea 303 some affi nity with my Lord’s cause, which though it grew from me, went after about in others names. For her Majesty being mightily incensed with that book which was dedicated to my Lord of Essex, being a story of the fi rst year of King Henry the fourth, thinking it a seditious prelude to put into the peoples’ head boldness and faction, said, she had an opinion, that there was treason in it, and asked me if I could not fi nd any places in it, that might be drawn within case of treason: whereto I answered; for treason surely I found none, but for felony very many. And when her Majesty hastily asked me wherein; I told her, the author had committed, very apparent theft, for he had taken most of the sentences of Cornelius Tacitus, and translated them into English, and put them into his text. And another time when the Queen would not be persuaded, that it was his writing whose name was to it, but that it had some more mischievous author, and said with great indignation, that she would have him racked to produce his author; I replied, Nay, Madam, he is a doctor, never rack his person, but rack his style; let him have pen, ink, and paper, and help of books, and be enjoined to continue the story where it breaketh off, and I will undertake by collecting the styles, to judge whether he were the author or no. But for the main matter, sure I am, when the Queen at any time asked mine opinion of my Lord’s case, I ever in one tenor, said unto her: that they were faults which the law might term contempts, because they were the trangression of her particular directions and instructions: but then what defence might be made of them, in regard of the great interest the person had in her Majesty’s favour, in regard of the greatness of his place, and the ampleness of his commission; in regard of the nature of the business being action of war, which in common cases cannot be tied to strictness of instructions, in regard of the distance of place, having also a sea between, that demands and commands, must be subject to wind and weather; in regard of a Council of State in Ireland, which he had at his back to avow his actions upon; and lastly, in regard of a good intention that he would allege for himself, which I told her in some religions was held to be a suffi cient dispensation for God’s commandments, much more for Princes. In all these regards, I besought her Majesty to be advised again and again, how she brought the cause into any public question: nay, I went further, for I told her, my Lord was and eloquent and well spoken man, and besides his eloquence of nature or art, he had an eloquence of accident which passed them both, which was the pity and benevolence of his hearers; and therefore that when he should come to his answer for himself, I doubted his words would have so unequal passage above theirs that should charge him, as would not be for her Majesty’s honour; and therefore wished the conclusion might be, that they might wrap it up privately between themselves, and that she would restore my Lord to his former attendance, with some addition of honour to take away discontent. But this I will never deny, that I did shew no approbation generally of his being sent back again into Ireland, both because it would have carried a repugnancy with my former discourse, and because I was in mine own heart fully persuaded, that it was not good, neither for the Queen, nor for the state, nor for himself: and yet I did not dissuade it neither, but left it ever as locus lubricus. For this particularity I do well remember that after your Lordship was named for the place in Ireland, and not long before your going, it pleased her Majesty at Whitehall to speak to me of that nomination: at which time I said to her: Surely, Madam, if you mean not to employ my Lord of Essex thither again, your Majesty cannot make a better choice, and was going on to shew some reason and her Majesty interrupted me with great passion: Essex! (said she) whensoever I send Essex back again into 304 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Ireland, I will marry you, claim it of me: whereunto I said; Well, Madam, I will release that contract if his going be for the good of your state. Immediately after the Queen had thought of a course (which was also executed) to have somewhat published in the Star Chamber, for the satisfaction of the world touching my Lord of Essex his restraint, and my Lord of Essex not to be called to it, but occasion to be taken by reason of some libels then dispersed; which when her Majesty propounded unto me, I was utterly against it; and told her plainly, that the people would say, that my Lord was wounded upon his back, and that justice had her balance taken from her, which ever consisted of an accusation and defence, with many other quick and signifi cant terms to that purpose: insomuch that I remember I said, that my Lord in foro famæ was too hard for her; and therefore wished her as I had done before, to wrap it up privately. And certainly I offended her at that time, which was rare with me: for I call to mind that both the Christmas, Lent, and Easter term following, though I came divers times to her upon law business, yet me thought her face and manner was not so clear and open to me, as it was at the fi rst. And she did directly charge me, that I was absent that day at the Star Chamber, which was very true; but I alleged some indisposition of body to excuse it: and during all the time aforesaid, there was altum silentium from her to me touching my Lord of Essex causes. But towards the end of Easter term, her Majesty brake with me, and told me that she had found my words true, for that the proceeding in the Star Chamber had done no good, but rather kindled factious bruits (as she termed them) than quenched them, and therefore that she was determined now for the satisfaction of the world, to proceed against my Lord in the Star Chamber by an information ore tenus, and to have my Lord brought to his answer: howbeit she said she, would assure me that whatsoever she did, should be towards my Lord ad castigationem, & non ad destructionem, as indeed she had often repeated the same phrase before: whereunto I said (to the end utterly to divert her:) Madam, if you will have me speak to you in this argument, I must speak to you as Friar Bacon’s head spake, that said fi rst, Time is, and then Time was, and Time would never be: for certainly (said I) it is now far too late, the matter is cold, and hath taken too much wind; whereat she seemed again offended, and rose from me, and that resolution for a while continued; and after, in the beginning of Midsummer term, I attending her, and fi nding her settled in that resolution (which I heard of also otherwise) she falling upon the like speech, it is true, that seeing no other remedy, I said to her slightly, Why, Madam, if you will needs have a proceeding, you were best have it in some such sort as Ovid spake of his mistress, Est aliquid luce patente minus, to make a counsel-table matter of it, and there an end; which speech again she seemed to take in ill part, but yet I think it did good at that time, and helped to divert that course of proceeding by information in the Star Chamber. Nevertheless, afterwards it pleased her to make a more solemn matter of the proceeding, and some few days after, when order was given that the matter should be heard at York House, before an assembly of Counsellors, Peers, and Judges, and some audience of men of quality to be admitted: and then did some principal Counsellors send for us of the Learned Councel, and notify her Majesty’s pleasure unto us, save that it was said to me openly by one of them, that her Majesty was not yet resolved whether she would have me forborne in the business or no. And hereupon might arise that other sinister and untrue speech that I hear is raised of me, how I was a suitor to be used against my Lord of Essex at that time: for it is very true, that Lochithea 305

I that knew well what had passed between the Queen and me, and what occasion I had given her both of distaste and distrust in crossing her disposition, by standing steadfastly for my Lord of Essex, and suspecting it also to be a stratagem arising from some particular emulation, I writ to her two or three words of compliment, signifying to her Majesty, that if she would be pleased to spare me in my Lord of Essex cause, out of the consideration she took of my obligation towards him, I should reckon it for one of her highest favours: but otherwise desiring her Majesty to think that I knew the degrees of duties, and that no particular obligation whatsoever to any subject could supplant or weaken that entireness of duty that I did owe and bear to her and her service; and this was the goodly suit I made, being a respect that no man that had his wits could have omitted: but nevertheless I had a further reach in it, for I judged that days’ work would be a full period of any bitterness or harshness between the Queen and my Lord, and therefore if I declared my self fully according to her mind at that time, which could not do my Lord any manner of prejudice, I should keep my credit with her ever after, whereby to do my Lord service, hereupon the next news that I heard, was, that we were all sent for again, and that her Majesty’s pleasure was, we all should have parts in the business; and the Lords falling into distribution of our parts, it was allotted to me, that I should set forth some undutiful carriages of my Lord in giving occasion and countenance to a seditious pamphlet, as it was termed, which was dedicated unto him, which was the book before-mentioned of King Henry the Fourth. Whereupon I replied to that allotment, and said to their Lordships, that it was an old matter, and had no manner of coherence with the rest of the charge, being matters of Ireland, and therefore that I having been wronged by bruits before, this would expose me to them more; and it would be said, I gave in evidence mine own tales. It was answered again with good shew, that because it was considered how I stood tied to my Lord of Essex, therefore that part was thought fi ttest for me, which did him least hurt: for that whereas all the rest was matter of charge and accusation, this only was but matter of caveat and admonition. Wherewith though I was in mine one mind little satisfi ed, because I knew well a man were better to be charged with some faults, than admonished of some others: yet the conclusion binding upon the Queen’s pleasure directly, volens nolens, I could not avoid that part that was laid upon me; which part if in the delivery I did handle not tenderly (though no man before me did in so clear terms free my Lord from all disloyalty as I did) that your Lordship knoweth, must be ascribed to the superior duty I did owe to the Queen’s fame and honour in a public proceeding, and partly to the intention I had to uphold my self in credit and strength with the Queen, the better to be able to do my Lord good offi ces afterwards: for as soon as this day was past, I lost no time, but the very next day following (as I remember) I attended her Majesty, fully resolved to try and put in err my utmost endeavour (so far as I in my weakness could give furtherance) to bring my Lord again speedily into Court and favour, and knowing (as I supposed at least) how the Queen was to be used, I thought that to make her conceive that the matter went well then, was the way to make her leave off there; and I remember well, I said to her, you have now Madam obtained victory over two things, which the greatest Princes in the world cannot at their wills subdue: the one is over fame, the other is over a great mind: for surely the world be now (I hope) reasonably well satisfi ed; and for my Lord, he did shew that humiliation towards your Majesty, as I am persuaded he was never in his life time more fi t for your favour than he is now: therefore if your Majesty will not mar it by lingering, but give over at the best, and now you have 306 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals made so good a full point, receive him again with tenderness, I shall then think that all that is past, is for the best. Whereat I remember she took exceeding great contentment, and did often iterate and put me in mind, that she had ever said, that her proceedings should be ad reparationem and not ad ruinam, as who saith, that now was the time I should well perceive, that that saying of hers should prove true. And further she willed me to set down in writing all that passed that day. I obeyed her commandment, and within some few days brought her again the narration, which I did read unto her at two several afternoons: and when I came to that part that set forth my Lord’s own answer, (which was my principal care) I do well bear in mind, that she was extraordinarily moved with it, in kindness and relenting towards my Lord, and told me afterwards (speaking how well I had expressed my Lord’s part) that she perceived old love would not easily be forgotten: whereto I answered suddenly, that I hoped she meant that by her self. But in conclusion I did advise her, that now she had taken a representation of the matter to her self, that she would let it go no further: for, Madam, (said I) the fi re blazeth well already, what should you tumble it? And besides it may please you keep a convenience with your self in this case: for since your express direction was, there should be no register nor clerk to take this sentence, nor no record or memorial made up of the proceeding, why should you now do that popularly, which you would not admit to be done judicially? Whereupon she did agree, that that writing should be suppressed, and I think there were not fi ve persons that ever saw it. But from this time forth during the whole latter end of that summer, while the Court was at Nonesuch and Oatlands, I made it my task and scope to take and give occasions for my Lord’s reintegration in his fortune: which my intention I did also signify to my Lord, as soon as ever he was at his liberty; whereby I might without peril of the Queen’s indignation write to him, and having received from his Lordship a courteous and loving acceptation of my good will and endeavours, I did apply it in all my accesses to the Queen, which were very many at that time, and purposely sought and wrought upon other variable pretences, but only and chiefl y for that purpose. And on the other side, I did not forbear to give my Lord from time to time faithful advertisement what I found, and what I wished. And I drew for him by his appointment some letters to her Majesty, which though I knew well his Lordship’s gift and style was far better than mine own, yet because he required it, alleging that by his long restraint he was grown almost a stranger to the Queen’s present conceits, I was ready to perform it: and sure I am, that for the space of six weeks, or two months it prospered so well, as I expected continually his restoring to his attendance. And I was never better welcome to the Queen, nor more made of, than when I spake fullest and boldest for him: in which kind the particulars were exceeding many, whereof for an example I will remember to your Lordship one or two, as at one time I call to mind, her Majesty was speaking of a fellow that undertook to cure, or at least to ease my brother of his gout, and asked me how it went forward; and I told her Majesty, that at the fi rst he received good by it, but after in the course of his cure he found himself at a stay or rather worse: the Queen said again, I will tell you Bacon the error of it; the manner of these physicians, and especially these empirics, is to continue one kind of medicine, which at the fi rst is proper, being to draw out the ill humour, but after they have not the discretion to change their medicine, but apply still drawing medicines, when they should rather intend to cure and corroborate the part. Good Lord, Madam, (said I) how wisely and aptly can you speak, and discern of physic ministered to the body, and consider not that there is the like occasion of Lochithea 307 physic ministered to the mind: as now in the case of my Lord of Essex, your princely word ever was, that you intended ever to reform his mind, and not ruin his fortune: I know well you cannot but think that you have drawn the humour suffi ciently, and therefore it were more than time, and it were but for doubt of mortifying or exulcerating, that you did apply and minister strength and comfort unto him: for these same gradations of yours are fi tter to corrupt than correct any mind of greatness. And another time I remember she told me for news, that my Lord had written unto her some very dutiful letters, and that she had been moved by them, and when she took it to be the abundance of the heart, she found it to be but a preparative to a suit for the renewing of his farm of sweet wines: whereunto I replied; O Madam, how doth your Majesty construe of these things, as if these two could not stand well together, which indeed nature hath planted in all creatures. For there but two sympathies, the one towards perfection, other towards preservation. That to perfection, as the iron contendeth to the loadstone: that to preservation, as the vine will creep towards a stake or prop that stands by it, not for any love to the stake, but to uphold itself. And therefore, Madam, you must distinguish my Lord’s desire to do you service, is as to his perfection, that which he thinks himself to be born for: whereas his desire to obtain this thing of you, is but for a sustentation. And not to trouble your Lordship with many other particulars like unto these, it was at the self same time that I did draw with my Lord’s privity, and by his appointment, two letters, the one written as from my brother, the other as an answer returned from my Lord, both to be by me in secret manner shewed to the Queen, which it pleased my Lord very strangely to mention at the Bar: the scope of which were but to represent and picture forth unto her Majesty my Lord’s mind to be such, as I knew her Majesty would fainest have had it, which letters whosoever shall see, (for they cannot now be retracted or altered, being by reason of my brother’s or his Lordship’s servants’ delivery, long since come into divers hands) let him judge, especially if he knew the Queen, and do remember those times, whether they were not the labours of one that sought to bring the Queen about for my Lord of Essex his good. The troth is that the issue of all his dealing grew to this, that the Queen by some slackness of my Lord’s, as I imagine, liked him worse and worse, and grew more incensed towards him. Then, she remembering belike the continual, and incessant, and confi dent speeches and courses that I had held on my Lord’s side, became utterly alienated from me, and for the space of (at least) three months, which was between Michaelmas and New-year’s-tide following, would not so much as look on me, but turned away from me with express and purpose like discounte- nance wheresoever she saw me: and at such time as I desired to speak with her about law business, ever sent me forth very slight refusals, insomuch as it is most true, that immediately after New-year’s-tide I desired to speak with her; and being admitted to her, I dealt with her plainly, and said: Madam, I see you withdraw your favour from me, and now that I have lost many friends for your sake, I shall lose you too: you have put me like one of those that the Frenchmen call enfans perdus, that serve on foot before horsemen, so have you put me into matters of envy without place, or without strength: and I know at chess a pawn before the King, is ever much played upon: a great many love me not, because they think I have been against my Lord of Essex; and you love me not, because you know I have been for him: yet will I never repent me, that I have dealt in simplicity of heart towards you both, without respect of cautions to my self: and therefore vivus vidensque pereo. If I do break my neck, I shall do it in manner as Master Dorrington did it, which walked on the 308 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals battlements of the church many days, and took a view and survey where he should fall: and so, Madam, (said I) I am not so simple, but that I take a prospect of mine overthrow, only I thought I would tell you so much, that you may know that it was faith, and not folly that brought me into it, and so I will pray for you. Upon which speeches of mine uttered with some passion, it is true her Majesty was exceedingly moved; and accumulated a number of kind and gracious words upon me, and willed me to rest upon this, Gratia mea suffi cit, and a number of other sensible and tender words and demonstrations, such as more could not be; but as touching my Lord of Essex, ne verbum quidem. Whereupon I departed, resting then determined to meddle no more in the matter; as that, that I saw would overthrow me, and not be able to do him any good. And thus I made mine own peace with mine own confi dence at that time; and this was the last time I saw her Majesty, before the eighth of February, which was the day of my Lord of Essex his misfortune, after which time, for that I performed at the Bar in my public service, your Lordship knoweth by the rules of duty, that I was to do it honestly, and without prevarication: but for any putting my self into it, I protest before God, I never moved neither the Queen, nor any person living concerning my being used in the service, either of evidence or examination: but it was merely laid upon me with the rest of my fellows. And for the time which passed, I mean between the arraignment and my Lord’s suffering, I well remember I was but once with the Queen, at what time though I durst not deal directly for my Lord as things then stood; yet generally I did both commend her Majesty’s mercy, terming it to her as an excellent balm that did continually distil from her sovereign hands, and made an excellent odour in the senses of her people: and not only so, but I took hardness to extenuate, not the fact, for that I durst not; but the danger, telling her that if some base or cruel minded persons had entered into such an action, it might have caused much blood and combustion: but it appeared well they were such as knew not how to play the malefactors, and some other words which I now omit. And as for the rest of the carriage of my self in that service, I have many honourable witnesses that can tell, that the next day after my Lord’s arraignment, by my diligence and information touching the quality and nature of the offenders, six of nine were stayed, which otherwise had been attainted, I bringing their Lordships’ letter for their stay, after the jury was sworn to pass upon them; so near it went: and how careful I was, and made it my part, that whosoever was in trouble about that matter, as soon as ever his case was suffi - ciently known and defi ned of, might not continue in restraint, but be set at liberty: and many other parts, which I am well assured of stood with the duty of an honest man. But indeed I will not deny for the case of Sir Thomas Smith of London, the Queen demanding my opinion of it, I told her, I thought it was as hard as many of the rest: but what was the reason? Because at that time I had seen only his accusation, and had never been present at any examination of his: and the matter so standing, I had been very untrue to my service, if I had not delivered that opinion. But afterwards upon a re-examination of some that charged him, who weakened their own testimony; and especially hearing himself viva voce, [in person] I went instantly to the Queen out of the soundness of my conscience, and not regarding what opinion I had formerly delivered, told her Majesty, I was satisfi ed and resolved in my conscience, that for the reputation of the action, the plot was to countenance the action further by him in respect of his place, than they had indeed any interest or intelligence with him. Lochithea 309

It is very true also, about that time her Majesty taking a liking of my pen, upon that which I had done before concerning the proceeding at York House, and likewise upon some other declarations, which in former times by her appointment I put in writing, commanded me to pen that book, which was published for the better satisfaction of the world: which I did but so, as never secretary had more particular, and express directions and instructions in every point how to guide my hand in it: and not only so, but after that I had made a fi rst draught thereof and propounded it to certain principal Counsellors, by her Majesty’s appointment, it was perused, weighed, censured, altered, and made almost a new, writing according to their Lordships’ better consideration: wherein their Lordships and my self both were as religious and curious of truth, as desirous of satisfaction: and my self indeed gave only words and form of style in pursuing their direction. And after it had passed their allowance, it was again exactly perused by the Queen her self, and some alterations made again by her appointment: nay, and after it was set to print, the Queen, who as your Lordship knoweth, as she was excellent in great matters, so she was exquisite in small: and noted that I could not forget my ancient respect to my Lord of Essex in terming him ever My Lord of Essex, My Lord of Essex almost in every page of the book, which she thought not fi t, but would have it made, Essex, or the late Earl of Essex: whereupon of force it was printed de novo, [anew,] and the fi rst copies suppressed by her peremptory commandment. And this my good Lord, to my furthest remembrance, is all that passed wherein I had part, which I have set down as near as I could in the very words and speeches that were used, not because they are worthy the repetition, I mean those of mine own; but to the end your Lordship may lively and plainly discern between the face of truth, and a smooth tale. And the rather also, because in things that passed a good while since, the very words and phrases did sometimes bring to my remembrance the matters, wherein I report me to your honourable judgment, whether you do not see the traces of an honest man: and had I been as well believed either by the Queen or by my Lord, as I was well heard by them both, both my Lord had been fortunate, and so had my self in his fortune. To conclude therefore, I humbly pray your Lordship to pardon me for troubling you with this long narration, and that you will vouchsafe to hold me in your good opinion, till you know I have deserved, or fi nd that I shall deserve the contrary; and even so I continue. At your Lordship’s honourable commandments very humbly. Fra. Bacon.

Pa rt I I

This story is in every child’s mouth: Bessus the Pæonian, being reproached for wantonly pulling down a nest of young sparrow and killing them, replied, that he had reason to do so, seeing that those little birds never ceased falsely to accuse him of the murder of his father.90

90 From Montaigne’s Essay Of Conscience 310 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Mine Certain Considerations touching the better Pacifi cation and Edifi cation of the Church of England, no name, is suppressed by the Bishop of London; Robert Cecil is created the Earl of Salisbury, Baron Burghley the Earl of Exeter, Philip Herbert the Earl of Montgomery and Baron Sidney the Viscount de L’Isle, likewise at Greenwich; John Stanhope, George Carew, Thomas Arundel, and William Cavendish are also to become Barons. Of continuance, his Majesty’s two black hounds vanish; it seemeth that the poor noble dogs are victims to a four pence killing and burial ’gainst the plague.91 An afternoon stroll in Gray’s Inn Walks with Alice Barnham sooths my wit. The arrows fl ed not swifter toward her address on a piece of ground lying next under the walls of whose it is. “Theirs.” I answer. She then asks if those fi elds beyond the walks were theirs too. “Yes, Madam, those are ours, as you are ours, to look on, and no more.” May time arriveth to say: Oh, would to heaven that such I might see thee, and kiss they dear locks changed into grey, and embrace thy withered body.92 Take with you child your blushes as you look to have my heart, treat it handsomely. I was presently given to know of a small panic surge noticed in the King’s Court: to this day, I doubt not now the reason of cause and only speculate of some news forwarded to his Majesty, that regards a plot ’gainst his life. Now appointed King’s Counsel Learned, Cecil receives at his Theobalds estate much dignitary of which they speak fabulations of the house, as doeth speak ’tis time that the translations of the Bible take roots, if you will not let the layman have the word of God in his mother tongue, yet let the priests have it, which for the great part of them do understand no Latin at all, but sing and patter all day with the lips only that which the heart understandeth not.93 Under ecclesiastical suggestions and the approval of his Majesty, the work is entrusted to a body of various scholars, dividing themselves into groups, which the various books of the Bible are apportioned. It is foreseen that the translation be completed within seven or eight years; [1611–1612;] even a scholar be human. Main general editor, Lancelot Andrewes;94 the most learned wit in England when he would not bowl in the green of a college, or is seen on some plight to fi nd the keys of privy doors he would discover eager divines, gowns off, in earnest playful mannerism. One time I recalleth how his Majesty requested the opinion of Bishop Andrewes’ sermon, from a Scottish Lord, “he

91 See F.P. Wilson: The Plague in Shakespeare’s London, 1963 92 (a) Francis Bacon’s Apophthegms (b) Resuscitatio, 1661 (c) Ovid, Ex. Pont. i. 4, 49 to his wife 93 “Two great pioneers of English Bible translation” Wiclif and William Tindal; the latter being the “real Father of our King James Version; eighty percent of his Old Testament and ninety percent of his New Testament have been transferred to our version.”—See C.B. McAfee: Study of the King James Bible, 1912 94 Lancelot Andrewes (1555–1626): The First Westminster Company translated the historical books, beginning with Genesis and ending with the Second Book of Kings; the Cambridge Company translated Chronicles to the end of the Song of Songs; the Oxford Company translated the beginning of Isaiah to the end of the Old Testament; the Second Oxford Company translated the four Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, and the Revelation of St. John the Divine; the Fifth Company of Translators at Westminster translated all of the Epistles of the New Testament and the Sixth Company of Translators at Cambridge translated the apocryphal books Lochithea 311 was learned, but he did play with his text, as a Jack-an-apes does, who takes up a thing and tosses and plays with it, and then he takes up another, and plays a little with it. Here’s a pretty thing, and there’s a pretty thing!”95

To The Most High and Might Prince James, By the Grace of God King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith &c., The translators of the Bible wish grace, mercy and peace, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Great and manifold were the blessings, most dread Sovereign, which Almighty God, the Father of all mercies, bestowed upon us the people of England, when fi rst he sent your Majesty’s royal person to rule and reign over us. For whereas it was the expectation of many, who wished not well unto our Sion, that upon the setting of that bright occidental star, Queen Elizabeth of most happy memory, some thick and palpable clouds of darkness would so have overshadowed this land, that men should have been in doubt which way they were to walk; and that it should hardly be known, who was to direct the unsettled State; the appearance of your Majesty, as the sun in his strength, instantly dispelled those supposed and surmised mists, and gave unto all that were well affected exceeding cause of comfort; especially when we beheld the government established in your Highness, and your hopeful seed, by an undoubted title, and this also accompanied with peace and tran- quillity at home and abroad. But among all our joys, there was no one that more fi lled our hearts, than the blessed continuance of the preaching of God’s sacred Word among us; which is that inestimable treasure, which excelleth all the riches of the earth; because the fruit thereof extendeth itself, not only to the time spent in this transitory world, but directeth and disposeth men unto that eternal happiness which is above in heaven. Then not to suffer this to fall to the ground, but rather to take it up, and to continue it in that state, wherein the famous predecessor of your Highness did leave it: nay, to go forward with the confi dence and resolution of a man in maintaining the truth of Christ, and propa- gating it far and near, is that which hath so bound and fi rmly knit the hearts of all your Majesty’s loyal and religious people unto you, that your very name is precious among them: their eye doth behold you with comfort, and they bless you in their hearts, as that sanctifi ed person who, under God, is the immediate author of their true happiness. And this their contentment doth not diminish or decay, but every day increaseth and taketh strength, when they observe, that the zeal of your Majesty toward the house of God doth not slack or go backward, but is more and more kindled, manifesting itself abroad in the farthest parts of Christendom, by writing in defence of the truth, (which hath given such a blow unto that man of sin, as will not be healed,) and every day at home, by religious and learned discourse, by frequenting the house of God, by hearing the word preached, by cherishing the teachers thereof, by caring for the church, as a most tender and loving nursing father. There are infi nite arguments of this right Christian and religious affection in your Majesty; but none is more forcible to declare it to others than the vehement and perpetuated desire of accomplishing and publishing of this work, which now with all humility we present unto your Majesty. For when your Highness had once out of deep

95 (a) Aubrey’s Brief Lives (b) R. H. Fletcher’s A History of English Literature 312 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals judgment apprehended how convenient it was, that out of the original sacred tongues, together with comparing of the labours, both in our own, and other foreign languages, of many worthy men who went before us, there should be one more exact translation of the Holy Scriptures into the English tongue; your Majesty did never desist to urge and to excite those to whom it was commended, that the work might be hastened, and that the business might be expedited in so decent a manner, as a matter of such importance might justly require. And now at last, by the mercy of God, and the continuance of our labours, it being brought unto such a conclusion, as that we have great hopes that the Church of England shall reap good fruit thereby; we hold it our duty to offer it to your Majesty, not only as to our King and Sovereign, but as to the principal mover and author of the work: humbly craving of your most sacred Majesty, that since things of this quality have ever been subject to the censures of ill meaning and discontented persons, it may receive approbation and patronage from so learned and judicious a Prince as your Highness is, whose allowance and acceptance of our labours shall more honour and encourage us, than all the calumniations and hard interpretations of other men shall dismay us. So that if, on the one side, we shall be traduced by Popish persons at home or abroad, who therefore will malign us, because we are poor instruments to make God’s holy truth to be yet more and more known unto the people, whom they desire still to keep in ignorance and darkness; or if, on the other side, we shall be maligned by self-conceited brethren, who run their own ways, and give liking unto nothing, but what is framed by themselves, and hammered on their anvil; we may rest secure, supported within by truth and innocency of a good conscience, having walked the ways of simplicity and integrity, as before the Lord; and sustained without by the powerful protection of your Majesty’s grace and favour, which will ever give countenance to honest and Christian endeavours against bitter censures and uncharitable imputations. The Lord of heaven and earth bless your Majesty with many and happy days, that, as His heavenly hand hath enriched your Highness with many singular and extraordinary graces, so you may be the wonder of the world in this latter age for happiness and true felicity, to the honour of that great God, and the good of his Church, through Jesus Christ our Lord and only Saviour.96

I often hazard sallies of my own wit, wherein I very much suspect my self, and certain verbal quibbles, at which I shake my ears; but I let them go at a venture. I see that others

96 The King James I., version translators: Dr. Lancelot Andrews, Dr. John Overall, Dr. Hadrian Saravia, Dr. Richard Clarke, Dr. John Laifi eld, Dr. Robert Tighe, Mr. Francis Burleigh, Mr. Geoffry King, Mr. Richard Thompson, Dr. William Bedwell, Mr. Edward Lively, Dr. John Richardson, Dr. Lawrence Chaderton, Mr. Francis Dillingham, Dr. Roger Andrews, Mr. Thomas Harrison, Dr. Robert Spaulding, Dr. Andrew Bing, Dr. John Harding, Dr. John Reynolds, Dr. Thomas Holland, Dr. Richard Kilby, Dr. Miles Smith, Dr. Richard Brett, Mr. Daniel Fairclough, Dr. Thomas Ravis, Dr. George Abbot, Dr. Richard Eedes, Dr. Giles Tomson, Sir Henry Savile, Dr. John Peryn, Dr. Ralph Ravens, Dr. John Harmar, Dr. William Barlow, Dr. John Spencer, Dr. Roger Fenton, Dr. Ralph Hutchinson, Mr. William Dakins, Mr. Michael Rabbet, Mr. Thomas(?) Sanderson, Dr. John Duport, Dr. William Brainthwaite, Dr. Jeremiah Radcliffe, Dr. Samuel Ward, Dr. Andrew Downes, Mr. John Bois, Dr. John Ward, Dr. John Aglionby, Dr. Leonard Hutten, Dr. Thomas Bilson and Dr. Richard Bancroft Lochithea 313 get reputation by such things: ’tis not for me alone to judge. I present my self standing and lying, before and behind, my right side and my left, and in all my natural postures. Wits, though equal in force, are not always equal in taste and application. For my part, I have yet a worse custom, that if my shoe go awry, I let my shirt and my cloak do so too; I scorn to mend my self by halves. It is much more easy to accuse one sex than to excuse the other; ’tis according to the saying, “The Pot and the Kettle.” Come shadow, come and take this shadow up, for ’tis thy rival. I forward to Lancelot Andrewes a copy of my Cogitata et visa [Thoughts and Conclusions] informing of my preparation on a perfect volume of philosophy: Clavis Interpretationis. [The Key of Interpretation.]97 To Sir Thomas Bodley, my writ tells him of how I shall have miss of my papers, which I pray he therefore to return unto me. He is, I bear him witness, slothful, and help me nothing: so I am half in conceit that he affect not the argument. I can say no more but, non canimns, surdis, respondent omnia sylvæ. If he be not of the Lodgings, chaulked up, (whereof I speak in my preface,) I am but to pass by his door. But if I have him but a fortnight at Gorhambury, I shall make him tell me another tale; or else I shall add cogitation ’gainst libraries and be revenge on him, that way. I pray he sends me some good news of Sir Thomas Smith and commend me very kindly to him. A play is performed, The Gowrie, by the King’s players; Councillors much displeased and so the play is forbidden. The New Year forwards yet another noble marriage: Sir Philip Herbert and the Lady Susan Vere. No sooner these festivities over, the King betwixt the appointing of the great Duke of York, to young Prince Charles. On the night, a play my man John and Inigo Jones offer be The Masque of Blackness which ends in a fi asco. The Masque is authority of the temple of Juno in the great hall, which are, and within it the maskers seated with store of lights about them, and it is no ill show; performed under an arch in the great hall, the four seasons of the year enter, then Hymeneus, which for chant and speeches is a good. My man John turns the globe of the earth standing behind the altar, and within the concave sit the eight men masquers, representing the four Humours and the four Affections, who leap forth to disturb the sacrifi ce to Union. But amidst their fury, Reason, that sits above them all, crowns with burning tapers, come down and silences them. These eight, together with Reason, their moderates, mounted above their heads, sit somewhat like the ladies in the scallop-shell the last year. About the globe of earth hovers a middle region of clouds, in the centre whereof stands a grand concert of musicians, and upon the cantons or horns sit the ladies, four at one corner, and four at another, who descend upon the stage; not after the stale down tight perpendicular fashion, like a bucket into a well, but comes gently sloping down. These eight, after the sacrifi ce is ended, represent the eight nuptial powers of Juno, who comes down to confi rm the Union. The men are clad in crimson and the women in white: they have every one a white plume of the richest heron’s feathers, and are so rich in jewels upon their heads, as who most glorious. Sound, sound aloud, the welcome of the orient fl ood, into the west; fair son to great Oceanus, now honoured, thus, with all his beauteous race: who, though but black in face, yet are they bright, and full of life and light. To prove that beauty best, which, not the colour, but the feature assures unto the creature.

97 See Markku Peltonen: The Cambridge Companion to Bacon, 1996 314 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Lucretius scribbles so well that when the power of wine has penetrated us, a heaviness of the limbs follows, the legs of the tottering person are impeded; the tongue grows torpid, the mind is dimmed, the eyes swim, noise, hiccup, and quarrels arise. Getting in is deathly to follow the Masque: ladies of the Court blacken their white heaps of skirts and are locked into gallery chambers till the performance ends; the banquet table turned on its head with much untouched food and wine spread. ’Tis not exaggeration, when some Ladies have their jewellery and honour misplaced, as they say.98 Such are the actions of men, and do but spin on their own little threads as a dedication to Anthony Bacon sees light:99

Seconde Weeke Dedication To whom, but thee, should I present the same? Sith, by the breath of thine encouragement. My sacred furie thou didst ﬁ rst inﬂ ame To prosecute this sacred argument. Such as is it, accept it, As a signe of thankfull love, from him, Whose all is thine. Du Bartas

After much deliberation, the King is proclaimed King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, and the name of England is abolished; King Lear claims the throne of boards.100 Three new books in print by this time: Of the Proﬁ cience and Advancement of Learning Divine and Human which are two books, and Temporis Masculus Partus. I forward copies, ﬁ rstly to Sir Thomas Bodley:

Sir. I think no man may more truly say with the psalm, multum incola fuit anima mea. For I do confess, since I was of any understanding, my mind hath in effect, been absent from that I have done, and in absence are many errors, which I do willingly acknowledge; and amongst the rest, this great one that led the rest; that knowing my self by inward calling to be fi tter to hold a book, than to play a part, I have led my life in civil causes, for which I was not very fi t by nature, and more unfi t by the preoccupation of my mind. Therefore, calling my self home, I have now for a time enjoyed my self, whereof likewise I desire to make the world partaker. My labours, if I may so term that which was the comfort of my

98 (a) See Maurice Lee Jr.: Dudley Carleton to John Chamberlain, 1972 (b) Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 99 Du Bartas’ Seconde Weeke dedication to Anthony Bacon 100 William R. Leigh: Clipt Wings, 1930 Lochithea 315 other labours, I have dedicated to the King,101 desirous if there be any good in them, it may be as fat of a sacriﬁ ce incensed to his honour; and the second copy I have sent unto you, not only in good affection, but in a kind of congruity, in regard of your great and rare desert of learning. For books are the shrines where the Saint is, or is believed to be. And you, having built an ark, to save learning from deluge, deserve, in propriety, in any new instrument or engine, whereby learning should be improved or advanced. Fra. Bacon.

Secondly, a copy to the University of Cambridge: “I here repay you, according to my ability, the debts of a son. I exhort you also, to do the same thing with my self: that is, to bend your whole might towards the advancement of the sciences, and to retain freedom of thought, together with humility of mind; and not to suffer the talent which the ancients have deposited with you, to lie dead in a napkin. Doubtless, the favour of the Divine Light will be present and shine amongst you, if philosophy being submitted to religion, you lawfully and dextrously use the keys of sense; and if all study of opposition being laid aside, everyone of you so dispute with another, as if he were arguing with himself. Fare ye well.” Thirdly, a copy to Trinity College: “The progress of things, together with themselves, are to be ascribed to their originals. Wherefore, seeing I have derived from your fountains, my ﬁ rst beginnings in the sciences, I thought it ﬁ t to repay to you the increases of them. I hope also, it may so happen, that these things of ours may the more prosperously thrive among you, being replanted in their native soil. Therefore, I likewise exhort you, that ye your selves, so far as is consistent with all due modesty, and reverence to the ancients, be not wanting to the advancement of the sciences: but that, next to the study of those sacred volumes of God, the holy Scriptures, ye turn over that great volume of the works of God, his creatures, with the utmost diligence, and before all other books, which ought to be looked on only as commentaries on those texts. Farewell.” Fourthly, a copy to the Earl of Salisbury: “It may please your good Lordship. I present with a work of my vacant time; which if it had been more, the work had been better. It appertaineth to your Lordship, (besides my particular respects,) in some propriety; in regard you are a great governor in a province of learning. And (that which is more) you have added to your place affection towards learning; and to your affection, judgement. Of which, the last, I could be content were (for the time) less, that you might the less exquisitely censure that which I offer unto you. But sure I am the argument is good, if it had lighted upon a good author. But I shall content my self, to awake better spirits; like

101 F.G. Selby’s notes on Francis Bacon’s Advancement of Learning; Book i, 1924: “James’ fl atterers used to call him the British Solomon. He was a bad King and wanted the qualities, which make a man successful in action; but he was a man of great natural sagacity, and was eminent for his learning even amongst the learned men of his time. Bacon certainly understood what would please the King, and we must attribute his compliments to his earnest desire to attract the attention and obtain the patronage of James and hoped to obtain from him the promotion for which he had striven with such small success under Elizabeth.” 316 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals a bell-ringer, which is fi rst up to call others to church. So with my humble desire, of your Lordship’s good acceptation, I remain.” Fifthly, a copy to Lord Treasurer Buckhurst: “May it please your good Lordship. I have fi nished a work touching the Advancement or setting forward of Learning; which I have dedicated to his Majesty, the most learned of a Sovereign or temporal Prince, that time hath known. And upon reason, not unlike, I humbly present one of the books to your Lordship: not only as a Chancellor of an University but as one that was excellently bred in all learning; which I have ever noted to shine in all your speeches and behaviours. And therefore your Lordship will yield a gracious aspect to your fi rst love; and take pleasure in the adorning of that wherewith your self are so much adorned. And so humbly desiring your favourable acceptation thereof, with signifi cation of humble duty, I remain.” A copy to his Lord Chancellor also leaveth my hands. The matter of having it translated into Latin is of request to Dr. Playser; wherefore, since I have only taken upon me to ring a bell to call other wits together, (which is the meanest offi ce,) it cannot but be consonant to my desire, to have that bell heard as far as can be. And since they are but sparks, which can work but upon matter prepared, I have the more reason to wish that those sparks may fl y abroad, that they may the better fi nd and light upon those minds and spirits which are apt to be kindled. I communicate to Father Fulgentio, the Venetian, concerning my writings. His Fatherhood judgeth it most convenient to have them translated in the Latin tongue, and to divide them into certain tomes as I hath done: the fi rst tome consisteth of the books of The Advancement of Learning which are already fi nished, and published; and contain the partition of sciences, which is the fi rst part of my instauration. Novum Organum should have immediately followed, but I interposed my moral and political writings, because they were more of readiness. And for them, they are these following: the fi rst is, The History of Henry VII., King of England. Then follows that book which his Fatherhood have called in his tongue, Saggi Morali. But I give a graver name to that book; and it is to go under the title of Sermones Fideles [Faithful Sayings] or Interiora Rerum [The Inside of Things.] Those Essays will be increased in their number, and enlarged in the handling of them. Also that tome will contain the book of The Wisdom of the Ancients. And this tome doth, as it were, interlope, and doth not stand in the order of the instauration. After these, shall follow the Organum Novum to which a second part is yet to be added, which I have already comprised and measured in the idea of it. And thus, the second part of my instauration will be fi nished. As for the third part of the instauration that is to say, The Natural History, it is plainly a work for a King, or a Pope; or for some College, or Order; and cannot be, by personal industry, performed, as it ought. Those portions of it, which have already seen the light, to wit, Concerning Winds and Touching Life and Death. They are not pure history, by reason of the Axioms, and larger observations, which are interposed. But they are a kind of mixed writings, composed of Natural History and a rude and imperfect instrument of the understanding. And this is the fourth part of the instauration. Wherefore the fourth part shall follow, and shall contain many examples of that instrument, more exact, and much more fi tted to rules of induction. Fifthly, there shall follow a book, to be entitled by us, Prodromus Philosophiæ Secundæ, [The Forerunner of Secondary Philosophy]. This shall contain our inventions about new Axioms, to be raised from the experiments themselves that they, which were before as pillars lying along, may be raised up. And this we resolve on Lochithea 317 for the fi fth part of our instauration. Lastly, there is yet behind, the secondary philosophy itself, which is the sixth part of the instauration. Of the perfecting this, I have cast away all hopes; but in future ages, perhaps, the design may bud again. Notwithstanding, in our Prodromie, [Prefatory Works,] such I mean only, which touch, almost, the universals of nature, there will be laid no inconsiderable foundations of this matter. I am by two arguments, thus persuaded: I think thus from that zeal and constancy of my mind, which has not waxed old in this design, nor after so many years, grown cold and indifferent. I remember, that about forty years ago, I composed a juvenile work about these things, which with great confi dence, and pompous title, I called Temporis Partum Maximum [The Most Considerable Birth of Time.] I am thus persuaded, because of its infi nite useful- ness for which reason it may be ascribed to divine encouragement. To return a letter shake to The Advancement of Learning, I do subscribe to the opinion of one of the wisest and great men: that for grammar schools, there are already too many; and therefore, providence to add where there is excess. For the great number of schools, which are in his Majesty’s Realm, doth cause a want, and doth cause likewise an overfl ow; both of them, inconvenient, and one of them dangerous. For by means thereof, they fi nd want in the country and towns both of servants for husbandry and apprentices for trade; and on the other side, there being more scholars bred than the State can prefer and employ; and the active part of that life, not bearing a proportion to the preparative; it must needs fall out, that many persons will be bred unfi t for other vocations; and unprofi table for that in which they are brought up; which fi lls the realm full of indigent, idle, and wanton people which are but materia rerum novarum.102 As to what concerneth actions, a performance of a play at the Earl of Southampton’s House, before Queen Anne, goes out well and Parliament doth begin without the King; he refraineth through a practice but that was discovered; a plot was to have blown up his Majesty at such a time as he should have been set in his royal throne, accompanied with his children, nobility, and commoners, and assisted with all the Bishops, judges, and doctors at one instant; a blast to have ruined the whole State and Kingdom of England; and for the effecting of this there was placed under the Parliament House where the King should sit, some thirty barrels of powder, with good store of wood, faggots, pieces and bars of iron. How this came forth is sundry ways delivered down to all: a letter sent to a Lord of the House, wherein he was warned not to come to Parliament the fi rst day; for that the times was so wicked, as God would take some vengeance, which would be in a short time performed as that letter could be burned, which he was prayed to do. Such as are apt to interpret all things to the worst, will not believe other, but that his Lordship might in a policy cause this letter to be sent, fearing the discovery already; the rather that one Thomas Ward, a principal man about him, is suspected to be accessory to the treason. It is also shewed, that upon a search lately made on a previous night, in the vault under Parliament Chamber, one Johnson [Fawkes] was found with one of these close lanterns preparing the train ’gainst the next morrow, who, being after brought into the galleries of the Court, and there demanded if he were not sorry for his so foul and heinous a treason, answered that he was sorry for nothing but that the act was not performed. Being replied unto him, that no doubt here had been a number in that place of his own religion, how in conscience

102 Resuscitatio p. 268–269 published in 1657 318 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals he could do them hurt, he answered a few might well perish to have the rest taken away. Others telling him that he should die a worse death than he that killed the Prince of Orange, he answered that he could bear it as well; and often times repeated, that he should have merited pardon if he had performed it. Some say, that he was servant to one Thomas Percy; other, that he is a Jesuit, and had a shirt of hair next his skin. But he is carried to the Tower; wither the Lords goeth to examine him. This Percy had been a servant of the Earl Northumberland’s and put in great trust by him concerning his northern business, and lately made by him a pensioner. He presently fl ed, and proclamations were made presently for his apprehension.103 Some days later, I saith to Robert Cecil of a suspicion I have that may need to be kept under secretive follow: I send an examination of one who was brought to me by the principal and ancients of Staple Inn, touching the words of one Beard, suspected for a Papist and practiser, being general words, by bad, and I thought not good to neglect anything at such a time. I am towardeth the bottom of the barrel to hear Tobie Matthew departs for Italy; his company with the Roman Catholics see some changes in him of which he doth not confi de with me of his decision to convert. Old Father Thames sees a mighty whale come up of eight miles of London, whose body, seen divers times above water; it is judged to be longer than the largest ship on the river; but when she tastes the fresh water and scents the land, she returns into the sea. There is a cunning, which we in England call The turning of the cat in the pan; which is, when that which a man says to another, he lays it as if another had said it to him. And to say truth, it is not easy, when such a matter passed between two, to make it appear from which of them it fi rst moved and began. Those guilty of the Gunpowder Plot are condemned, and executed after Guido Fawkes’ confession and after being tortured for eight days:

A True and Perfect Relation of the Proceedings at the Several Arraignments of the late most barbarous traitors Imprinted at London by Robert Barker Printer to the King’s most Excellent Majesty 104 ANNO 1606 On the Monday night following, and confesses also that the said Percy, this examinate, Robert Catsby, Thomas Winter, John and Christopher Wright met at the forenamed house on the Backside of St. Clements Inn on Sunday night last. He further saith that the Wednesday before his apprehension, he went forth of the town to a house in Enﬁ eld Chase on this side of Theobalds where Wally does live, and thither came Robert Catsby, Graunt and Thomas Winter, where he stayed until Sunday night following. He confesses also that there was a speech amongst them to draw Raleigh to take part with them, being one that might stand them in good stead, as others in like sort were named.

103 Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 104 Guido Fawkes’ confession rests at the National Archives Museum Lochithea 319

To The Reader. O publish any thing of the late most barbarous and damnable treason and conspiracy of blowing up the House of Parliament with gunpowder may at the fi rst appearance seem both unnecessary and unprofi table. First, for that public justice passing upon the several confessions of all the capital offenders (which they clearly and openly confessed, and confi rmed at their several arraignments in the hearing of multitudes of people) doeth of it self import and give the greatest satisfaction that can be to all men, especially in that after judgement given, due and timely execution hath succeeded. For as law is the foundation of justice, so the same justice duly executed is the foundation of all Commonwealths, and the golden metewand [Yardstick] appointed by the Almighty for the measuring and deciding of all causes civil or criminal. Secondly, for that these treasons are now so perspicuous and evident to the view of all men, as that none can pretend any just ignorance of the same. Yet it is necessary, and will be very profi table to publish somewhat concerning the same, as well for that there do pass from hand to hand divers uncertain, untrue, and incoherent reports and relations of such evidence as was publicly given upon the said several arraignments; as also for that it is necessary for men to understand the birth and growth of the said abominable and detestable conspiracy, and who were the principal authors and actors of the same.

A Relation Of The Former Arraignment On Monday The 27 of January Anno 1605 In Westminster Hall Before The Lords Commissioners There The Earl of Nottingham The Earl of Suffolk The Earl of Worcester The Earl of Devonshire The Earl of Northampton The Earl of Salisbury The Lord Chief Justice of England The Lord Chief Baron of the Exchequer Sir Peter Warburton Knight, one of the justices of the Court of Common Pleas Upon one indictment for treasons done in the County of Middlesex were arraigned these, viz. Robert Winter, Esquire Thomas Wright, Gentleman Guy Fawkes, Gentleman John Grant, Esquire Ambrose Rookwood, Esquire Robert Keyes, Gentleman Thomas Bates Upon another indictment for treason done in the County of Northampton was arraigned Sir Everard Digby, Knight 320 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

The brief of the matters whereupon Robert Winter Esquire, Thomas Winter Gentleman, Guy Fawkes Gentleman, John Graunt Esquire, Ambrose Rookwood Esquire, Robert Keyes Gentleman, Thomas Bates were indicted, and whereupon they were arraigned. That whereas our Sovereign Lord the King had by the advise and assent of his Council, for divers weighty and urgent occasions concerning his Majesty, the state, and defence of the Church and Kingdom of England, appointed a Parliament to be holden at his city of Westminster, that Henry Garnet superior of the Jesuits within the Realm of England (called also by the several names of Wally, Darcy, Roberts, Farmer, and Henry Philips), Oswald Tesmond Jesuit, otherwise called Oswald Greenwell, John Gerrard Jesuit (called also by the several names of Lee and Brooke), Robert Winter, Thomas Winter gentlemen, Guy Fawkes gentleman, otherwise called Guy Johnson, Robert Keyes gentleman, and Thomas Bates, yeoman, late servant to Robert Catesby Esquire, together with the said Robert Catesby and Thomas Percy Esquires, John Wright and Christopher Wright gentlemen, in open rebellion and insurrection against his Majesty lately slain, and Francis Tresham Esquire lately dead, as false traitors against our said Sovereign Lord the King, did traitorously meet and assemble themselves together; and being so met, the said Henry Garnet, Oswald Tesmond, John Gerrard and other Jesuits did maliciously, falsely, and traitorously move and persuade as well the said Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, as the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, Christopher Wright, and Francis Tresham, that our said Sovereign Lord the King, the nobility, clergy, and whole communality of the Realm of England (Papists excepted) were heretics, and that all heretics were accursed and excommunicate, and that none heretic could be a King, but that it was lawful and meritorious to kill our said Sovereign Lord the King, and all other heretics within this Realm of England, for the advancing and enlargement of the pretended and usurped authority and jurisdiction of the Bishop of Rome, and for the restoring of the superstitious Romish religion within this Realm of England. To which traitorous persuasions the said Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, Thomas Bates, Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, Christopher Wright, and Francis Tresham traitorously did yield their assents. And that thereupon the said Henry Garnet, Oswald Tesmond, John Gerrard, and divers other Jesuits, Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, as also the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, Christopher Wright, and Francis Tresham, traitorously amongst themselves did conclude and agree with gunpowder, as it were with one blast, suddenly, traitorously and barbarously to blow up and tear in pieces our said Sovereign Lord the King, the excellent, virtuous, and gracious Queen Anne his dearest wife, the most Noble Prince Henry their eldest son, the future hope and joy of England, and the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and reverend Judges of the Realm, the Knights, citizens and burgesses of Parliament, and divers other faithful subjects and servants of the King in the said Parliament for the causes aforesaid, to be assembled in the House of Parliament, and all them without any respect of majesty, dignity, degree, sex, age or place, most barbarously, and more than beastly, traitorously and suddenly to destroy and swallow up. And further did most traitorously conspire and conclude among themselves that not only the whole royal issue male of our said Sovereign Lord the King should be destroyed and rooted out, but that the persons aforesaid, together with divers other false traitors traitorously with them to be assembled should surprise the Lochithea 321 persons of the noble Ladies Elizabeth and Mary, daughters of our said Sovereign Lord the King, and falsely and traitorously should proclaim the said Lady Elizabeth to be Queen of the Realm of England. And thereupon should publish a certain traitorous proclamation in the name of the said Lady Elizabeth, wherein it was especially agreed by and between the said conspirators, that no mention should be made at the fi rst of the alteration of religion established within this Realm of England. Neither would the said false traitors therein acknowledge themselves to be authors or actors or devisers of the foresaid most wicked and horrible treasons, until they had got suffi cient power and strength for the assured execution and accomplishment of their said conspiracy and treason, and that then they would avow and justify the said most wicked and horrible treasons as actions that were in the number of those quae non laudantur nisi peracta, which be not to be commended before they be done. But by the said fained and traitorous proclamation they would publish that all and singular abuses and grievances within this Realm of England should for satisfying of the people be reformed. And that as well for the better concealing, as for the most effectual accomplishing of the said horrible treasons, as well the said Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes and Thomas Bates, as the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, Christopher Wright, and Francis Tresham, by the traitorous advise and procurement of the said Henry Garnet, Oswald Tesmond, John Gerrard, and other Jesuits traitorously did further conclude and agree, that as well the said Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, as the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, Christopher Wright, and Francis Tresham thereupon severally and traitorously should receive several corporal others upon the holy Evangelists and the sacrament of the Eucharist. That they the treasons aforesaid would traitorously conceal and keep secret, and would not reveal them directly nor indirectly by words nor circumstances, nor ever would desist from the execution and fi nal accomplishment of the said treasons, without the consent of some three of the foresaid false traitors fi rst in that behalf traitorously had. And that thereupon as well the said Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, as the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, Christopher Wright, and Francis Tresham, did traitorously take the said several corporal others severally, and receive the sacrament of the Eucharist aforesaid by the hands of the said Henry Garnet, John Gerrard, Oswald Tesmond, and other Jesuits. And further, that the said Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, together with the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, Christopher Wright, and Francis Tresham, by the like traitorous advise and counsel of the said Henry Garnet, John Gerrard, Oswald Tesmond, and other Jesuits, for the more effectual compassing and fi nal execution of the said treasons, did traitorously amongst themselves conclude and agree to dig a certain mine under the said House of Parliament, and there secretly to bestow and place a great quantity of gunpowder, and that according to the said traitorous conclusion the said Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, together with the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, and Christopher Wright afterwards secretly, not without great labours and diffi culty, did dig and make the said mine unto the mildest of the foundation of the wall of the said House of Parliament, the said foundation being 322 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals of the thickness of three yards, with a traitorous intent to bestow and place a great quantity of gunpowder in the mine aforesaid, so as aforesaid traitorously to be made for the traitorous accomplishing of their traitorous purposes aforesaid. And that the said Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, together with the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, and Christopher Wright, fi nding and perceiving the said work to be of great diffi culty by reason of the hardness and thickness of the said wall, and understanding a certain cellar under the said House of Parliament, and adjoining to a certain house of the said Thomas Percy, then to be let to farm for a yearly rent, the same Thomas Percy by the traitorous procurement as well of the said Henry Garnet, Oswald Tesmond, John Gerrard, and other Jesuits, Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, as of the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, and Christopher Wright, traitorously did hire the Cellar aforesaid for a certain yearly rent and term. And then those traitors did remove twenty barrels full of gunpowder out of the said house of the said Thomas Percy, and secretly and traitorously did bestow and place them in the cellar aforesaid under the said House of Parliament, for the traitorous effecting of the Treason, and traitorous purposes aforesaid. And that afterwards the said Henry Garnet, Oswald Tesmond, John Gerrard, and other Jesuits, Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, together with the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, and Christopher Wright, traitorously did meet with Robert Winter, John Grant, and Ambrose Rookwood and Francis Tresham esquires, and traitorously did impart to the said Robert Winter, John Grant, and Ambrose Rookwood and Francis Tresham, the treasons, traitorous intentions and purposes aforesaid, and did require the said Robert Winter, John Grant, Ambrose Rookwood and Francis Tresham to join themselves as well with the said Henry Garnet, Oswald Tesmond, John Gerrard, and other Jesuits, Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, as with the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, and Christopher Wright, and in the treasons, traitorous intentions, and purposes aforesaid, and traitorously to provide horse, armour, and other necessaries for the better accomplishment and effecting of the said treasons. To which traitorous motion and request the said Robert Winter, John Grant, Ambrose Rookwood and Francis Tresham did traitorously yield their assents, and as well with the said Henry Garnet, Oswald Tesmond, John Gerrard, and other Jesuits, Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, as with the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, and Christopher Wright, in the said treasons, traitorous intentions and purposes aforesaid, traitorously did adhere and unite themselves, and thereupon several corporal others to form above said traitorously did take; and the sacrament of the Eucharist did receive, to such intent and purpose as aforesaid; and horses, armour, and other necessaries for the better effecting of the said treasons, according to their traitorous assents aforesaid, traitorously did provide. And that afterwards all the said false traitors did traitorously provide and bring into the cellar aforesaid ten other barrels full of gunpowder newly bought, fearing least the former gunpowder so as aforesaid bestowed and placed there, was become darkish, and the said several quantities of gunpowder aforesaid with billets and fagots, least they should be spied, secretly and traitorously did cover. And that afterwards the said false traitors traitorously provided and brought into the cellar aforesaid four hog sheds full Lochithea 323 of gunpowder, and laid divers great iron bars and stones upon the said four hog sheds and the foresaid other quantities of gunpowder, and the said quantities of gunpowder, bars and stones, with billets and fagots, lest they should be espied, secretly and did cover. And that the said Guy Fawkes afterwards for a full and fi nal accomplishment of the said treasons, traitorous intentions and purposes aforesaid, by the traitorous procurement as well of the said Henry Garnet, Oswald Tesmond, John Gerrard, and other Jesuits, Thomas Winter, Guy Fawkes, Robert Keyes, and Thomas Bates, as of the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, Christopher Wright, and Francis Tresham had prepared, and had upon this person touchwood and match, therewith to give fi re to the several barrels, hog sheds and quantities of gunpowder aforesaid, at the time appointed for the execution of the said horrible treasons. And further, that after the said horrible treasons were by the great favour and mercy of God in a wonderful manner discovered, not many hours before it should have been executed, as well the said Henry Garnet, Oswald Tesmond, John Gerrard, Robert Winter, Thomas Winter, Robert Keyes, Thomas Bates, John Grant, and Ambrose Rookwood, as the said Robert Catesby, Thomas Percy, John Wright, and Christopher Wright did fl y and withdraw themselves to the intent to stir up and procure such Popish persons as they could, to join with them in actual, public and open rebellion against our said Sovereign Lord the King, and to that end did publish divers fained and false rumours that the Papists’ throats should have been cut. And that thereupon divers Papists were in arms and in open public and actual rebellion against our said Sovereign Lord the King, in divers parts of this Realm of England. To this inditement they all pleaded Not Guilty, and put themselves upon God and the country.

Parliament meets; I am active in promotion of the Union writing on the plantation of Ireland; a Bill is laid before the Commons, by a disappointed jobber, to reduce some of the fees for copies in the Court of Record. In the debates on this Bill, I assume the leading part thus:105 First: It hath spring out of the ashes of a decayed monopoly by the spleen of one man; that, because he could not continue his new exactions, therefore would now pull down ancient fees. Second: It knows the way out of the House; for in the XXXV Eliz. The like Bill was preferred, and much called upon at the fi rst, and rejected at the engrossment, not having twenty voices for it. Third: It is without all precedent; for look into former laws and you shall fi nd that, when a statue enacts a new offi ce or acts to be done, it limits fees, as in case of enrolment, in case of administration, &c., but it never limits ancient fees to take away other men’s freeholds. Fourth: It looks extremely back, which is against all justice of Parliament, for a number of subjects are already placed in offi ces: some attaining them in course of long service; some in consideration of great sums of money; some in reward of service from the Crown, when

105 William H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861 324 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals they might have had other suits and such offi ces again allied with a number of other subjects, who valued them according to their offi ces. Now, if half these men’s livelihoods and fortunes should be taken from them, it were an infi nite injustice. Fifth: It were more justice to raise the fees than to abate them, for we see gentlemen have raised their rents and the fi nes of their tenants, and merchants, tradesmen, and farmers their commodities and wares; and this mightily within years. But the fees of offi ces continue at one rate. Sixth: If it be said the number of fees is much increased because causes are increased, that is a benefi t which time gives and times takes away. It is no more than if there were an ancient toll at some bridge between Berwick and London, and now it should be brought down because that, Scotland being united, there were more passengers. Seventh: Causes may again decrease, as they do already begin; and therefore, as men must endure the prejudice of time, so they ought again to enjoy benefi t of time. Eighth: Men are not to consider the proportion between the fee and the pains taken, as if it were in a scrivener’s shop, because in the copies (being the principal gain to the offi cer) was considered ab antiquo his charge, his attendance, his former labours to make him fi t for the place, his countenance and quality in the Commonwealth, and the like. Ninth: The offi cers do many things sans fee, as in causes in forma pauperis, and for the King &c., which is considered in the fees of copies. Tenth: There is great labour of mind in many cases, as in the entering of orders, and in all examinations. All which is only considered in the copies. Eleventh: Those offi ces are either the gift of the King or in the gift of great offi cers, who have their offi ce from the King, so as the King is disinherited of his ancient rights and means to prefer servants, and the great offi ces of the Kingdom likewise disgraced and impaired. Twelfth: There is a great confusion and inequality in the Bill, for the copies in inferior Courts, as for example the Court of the Marches, the Court of the North (being inferior Courts), are left in as good case as they were, and high Courts of the Kingdom only abridged, whereas there was ever a diversity half in half in all fees, as Chancellor’s clerks and all others. Thirteenth: If fees be abridged as too great, they ought to be abridged as well in other points as in copies, and as well in other offi ces as in offi ces towards the law. For now pro- thonotories shall have their old fees for engrossing upon the roll and the like, and only the copies shall be abridged; whereas, if it be well examined, the copies are of all fees the most reasonable; and so of other offi ces, as customs, searchers, mayors, bailiffs, &c., which have many ancient fees incident to their offi ces, which all may be called in question upon the like or better reason. Lochithea 325

Fourteenth: The suggestion of the Bill is utterly false, which in all law is odious, for it sug- gesteth that these fees have of late years been exacted, which is utterly untrue, having been time out of mind and being men’s freehold, whereof they may have an assize, so as the Parliament may as well take any man’s lands, common means, &c., as these fees. Fifteenth: It casts a slander upon all superior judges, as if they had tolerated extortions, whereas there have been severe and strict courses taken, and that of late, for the distinguishing of lawful fees from new exactions, and fees reduced into table, and they published and hanged up in Courts, that the subjects be not poled nor aggrieved. Sixteenth: The law (if it were just) ought to enter into an examination and distinction what were rightful and ancient fees and what were upstart fees and encroachments, whereas now it sweeps them all away without difference. Seventeenth: It requires impossibility, setting men to spell again how many syllables be in a line and puts the penalty o xxs. for every line faulty, which is xviii a sheet. And the superior offi cers must answer it for clerks’ faults or oversight. Eighteenth: It doth disgrace superior judges in Court, to whom it properly belongeth to correct those misdemeanours according to their oaths and according to discretion, because it is impossible to reduce it to a defi nite rule. Nineteenth: This being a penal law, it seems there is but some commodity sought for, that some that could not continue their fi rst monopoly might make themselves whole out of some penalties. These arguments prevail; a committee being named to report on the Bill, report against it: the Bill is laid asleep. I forward a letter to the Earl of Salisbury, stating that I cannot as I would express how much I think my self bounden to his Lordship for his tenderness over my contentments. But herein I will endeavour hereafter as I am able. I send his Lordship a preamble for the subsidy, drawing which was my morning’s labour. This mould or frame, if he like it not, I will be ready to cast it again, de novo, if I may receive his honourable directions: for any particular corrections, it is in a good hand; and yet I will attend his Lordship to know his further pleasure. In the meantime, there is an idle rumour of the murder of the King,106 as many matters enter Parliament, of which four are of importance and betwixt both Houses: fi rst of the Bill of free trade into France and Spain; second of the Union; third of church matters and fourth of suppliers. I, being of the Lower House, with three other members, Sir Henry Hobart, the Attorney of the High Commissions; Sir Henry Montague, the Recorder and Sir John Doddridge, Solicitor General, handle the church matters of defi ciency of Ministers to the nonconformity with the Canons of 1604; the citation of identifying any charges formed against another; excommunication, be held with attentiveness; and the authority of the high commissions to being no more than in London and in York.107

106 William Camden’s Diary 107 See Maurice Lee Jr: Dudley Carleton to John Chamberlain, 1972 326 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Man cannot be anything out what he is, nor imagine beyond the reach of his capacity; so Ben Jonson’s Volpone is published, but the plague and its trinkets hang over us all:

Volpone First, I bring in your ship ’twixt two brick walls; But those the state shall venture: On the one I strain me a fair tarpauling, and in that I stick my onions, cut in halves: the other Is full of loop-holes, out at which I thrust The noses of my bellows; and those bellows I keep, with water-works, in perpetual motion, Which is the easiest matter of a hundred. Now, sir, your onion, which doth naturally Attract the infection, and your bellows blowing The air upon him, will show, instantly, By his changed colour, if there be contagion; Or else remain as fair as at the ﬁ rst. Now it is known, ’tis nothing.

Volpone; or The Fox To The Most Noble And Most Equal Sisters, The Two Famous Universities, For Their Love And Acceptance Shewn To His Poem In The Presentation, Ben Jonson, The Grateful Acknowledger Dedicates Both It And Himself. Never, most equal Sisters, had any man a wit so presently excellent, as that it could raise itself; but there must come both matter, occasion, commenders, and favourers to it. If this be true, and that the fortune of all writers doth daily prove it, it behoves the careful to provide well towards these accidents; and, having acquired them, to preserve that part of reputation most tenderly, wherein the benefi t of a friend is also defended. Hence is it, that I now render myself grateful, and am studious to justify the bounty of your act; to which, though your mere authority were satisfying, yet it being an age wherein poetry and the professors of it hear so ill on all sides, there will a reason be looked for in the subject. It is certain, nor can it with any forehead be opposed, that the too much license of poetasters in this time, hath much deformed their mistress; that, every day, their manifold and manifest ignorance doth stick unnatural reproaches upon her: but for their petulancy, it were an act of the greatest injustice, either to let the learned suffer, or so divine a skill (which indeed should not be attempted with unclean hands) to fall under the least contempt. For, if men will impartially, and not asquint, look toward the offi ces and function of a poet, they will easily conclude to themselves the impossibility of any man’s being the good poet, without fi rst being a good man. He that is said to be able to inform young men to all good disciplines, infl ame grown men to all great virtues, keep old men in their best and supreme state, or, as they decline to childhood, recover them to their fi rst strength; that comes forth the interpreter and arbiter of nature, a teacher of things divine no less than human, a master in manners; and can alone, or with a few, effect the business of mankind: Lochithea 327 this, I take him, is no subject for pride and ignorance to exercise their railing rhetoric upon. But it will here be hastily answered, that the writers of these days are other things; that not only their manners, but their natures, are inverted, and nothing remaining with them of the dignity of poet, but the abused name, which every scribe usurps; that now, especially in dramatic, or, as they term it, stage-poetry, nothing but ribaldry, profanation, blasphemy, all license of offence to God and man is practised. I dare not deny a great part of this, and am sorry I dare not, because in some men’s abortive features (and would they had never boasted the light) it is over-true; but that all are embarked in this bold adventure for hell, is a most uncharitable thought, and, uttered, a more malicious slander. For my particular, I can, and from a most clear conscience, affi rm, that I have ever trembled to think toward the least profaneness; have loathed the use of such foul and unwashed baw- dry, as is now made the food of the scene: and, howsoever I cannot escape from some, the imputation of sharpness, but that they will say, I have taken a pride, or lust, to be bitter, and not my youngest infant but hath come into the world with all his teeth; I would ask of these supercilious politics, what nation, society, or general order or state, I have provoked? What public person? Whether I have not in all these preserved their dignity, as mine own person, safe? My works are read, allowed, (I speak of those that are entirely mine,) look into them, what broad reproofs have I used? Where have I been particular? Where personal? Except to a mimic, cheater, bawd, or buffoon, creatures, for their insolences, worthy to be taxed? Yet to which of these so pointingly, as he might not either ingenuously have confest, or wisely dissembled his disease? But it is not rumour can make men guilty, much less entitle me to other men’s crimes. I know, that nothing can be so innocently writ or carried, but may be made obnoxious to construction; marry, whilst I bear mine innocence about me, fear it not. Application is now grown a trade with many; and there are that profess to have a key for the deciphering of everything: but let wise and noble persons take heed how they be too credulous, or give leave to these invading interpreters to be over-familiar with their fames, who cunningly, and often, utter their own virulent malice, under other men’s simplest meanings. As for those that will (by faults which charity hath raked up, or common honesty concealed) make themselves a name with the multitude, or, to draw their rude and beastly claps, care not whose living faces they intrench with their petulant styles, may they do it without a rival, for me! I choose rather to live graved in obscurity, than share with them in so preposterous a fame. Nor can I blame the wishes of those severe and wise patriots, who providing the hurts these licentious spirits may do in a state, desire rather to see fools and devils, and those antique relics of barbarism retrieved, with all other ridiculous and exploded follies, than behold the wounds of private men, of Princes and nations: for, as Horace makes Trebatius speak among these, “Sibi quisque timet, quanquam est intactus, et odit.” And men may justly impute such rages, if continued, to the writer, as his sports. The increase of which lust in liberty, together with the present trade of the stage, in all their miscelline interludes, what learned or liberal soul doth not already abhor? Where nothing but the fi lth of the time is uttered, and with such impropriety of phrase, such plenty of solecisms, such dearth of sense, so bold prolepses, so racked metaphors, with brotherly, able to violate the ear of a pagan, and 328 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

blasphemy, to turn the blood of a Christian to water. I cannot but be serious in a cause of this nature, wherein my fame, and the reputation of divers honest and learned are the question; when a name so full of authority, antiquity, and all great mark, is, through their insolence, become the lowest scorn of the age; and those men subject to the petulancy of every vernaculous orator, that were wont to be the care of Kings and happiest monarchs. This it is that hath not only rapt me to present indignation, but made me studious heretofore, and by all my actions, to stand off from them; which may most appear in this my latest work, which you, most learned Arbitresses, have seen, judged, and to my crown, approved; wherein I have laboured for their instruction and amendment, to reduce not only the ancient forms, but manners of the scene, the easiness, the propriety, the innocence, and last, the doctrine, which is the principal end of poesie, to inform men in the best reason of living. And though my catastrophe may, in the strict rigour of comic law, meet with censure, as turning back to my promise; I desire the learned and charitable critic, to have so much faith in me, to think it was done of industry: for, with what ease I could have varied it nearer his scale (but that I fear to boast my own faculty) I could here insert. But my special aim being to put the snaffl e in their mouths, that cry out, we never punish vice in our interludes, etc., I took the more liberty; though not without some lines of example, drawn even in the ancients themselves, the goings out of whose comedies are not always joyful, but oft times the bawds, the servants, the rivals, yea, and the masters are mulcted; and fi tly, it being the offi ce of a comic poet to imitate justice, and instruct to life, as well as purity of language, or stir up gentle affections; to which I shall take the occasion elsewhere to speak. For the present, most reverenced Sisters, as I have cared to be thankful for your affections past, and here made the understanding acquainted with some ground of your favours; let me not despair their continuance, to the maturing of some worthier fruits; wherein, if my Muses be true to me, I shall raise the despised head of poetry again, and stripping her out of those rotten and base rags wherewith the times have adulterated her form, restore her to her primitive habit, feature, and majesty, and render her worthy to be embraced and kiss of all the great and master-spirits of our world. As for the vile and slothful, who never affected an act worthy of celebration, or are so inward with their own vicious natures, as they worthily fear her, and think it an high point of policy to keep her in contempt, with their declamatory and windy invectives; she shall out of just rage incite her servants (who are genus irritable) to spout ink in their faces, that shall eat farther than their marrow into their fames; and not Cinnamus the barber, with his art, shall be able to take out the brands; but they shall live, and be read, till the wretches die, as things worst deserving of themselves in chief, and then of all mankind.

* ’Tis Horace that saith the maid, ripe for marriage, delights to learn Ionic dances, and to imitate those lascivious movements. Nay, already from her infancy she meditates criminal amours,108 for I wed Alice Barnham; May 10 at Marylebone Chapel. Romping girls, and

108 Horace, Od., iii. 6, 21 Lochithea 329 merriness accompany us. I clothe in purple;109 Alice in ﬁ ne clothes of silver and gold that draw her out; for the dinner, we lodge at my father-in-law, Sir John Packington; feathers and lace light up the rooms in the Savoy. Three Knights attend as chief guests: Sir Walter Cope, Sir Hugh Beeston and Sir Baptist Hicks, associates of Cecil, as he doth not attend; and upon this conceit, since I could not have Cecil in person, I would have him at least in his representative body.110 Les nouements d’aiguillettes: knots tied by someone, at a wedding, on a strip of leather, cotton, or silk, and which, especially when passed through the wedding ring, were supposed to have the magical effect of preventing a consummation of the marriage, until they were untied.111 Methinks to add the views of marriage by the philosopher, Theophrastus, the friend to whom Aristotle bequeathed his library:

Theophrastus On Marriage112 A wise man, therefore, must not take a wife. For in the ﬁ rst place his study of philosophy will be hindered, and it is impossible for anyone to attend to his books and to his wife. Wives want many things-costly dresses, gold, jewels, great outlay, maidservants, and all kinds of furniture, litters and gilded coaches. Then come curtain-lectures the livelong night: she complains that one Lady goes out better-dressed than she; that another is looked up to by all. “I am a poor despised nobody at the Ladies’ assemblies.” “Why did you ogle that creature next door?” “Why were you talking to the maid?” “What did you bring from the market?” “I am not allowed to have a single friend or companion.” There may be in some neighbouring city the wisest of teachers; but if we have a wife we can neither leave her behind nor take the burden with us. To support a poor wife is hard; to put up with a

109 “Purple is favoured by the weak and the discontented.”—See Marshall’s News Chronicle Everything Within, 1957 110 D’Ewes: Autobiography and Correspondence, 1845, an extract from his diary dated May 3, 1621: “The favour he had with the beloved Marquis of Buckingham emboldened him, as I learned in discourse from a gentleman of his bedchamber, who told me he was sure his Lord should never fall as long as the Marquis continued in favour. His most abominable and darling sin I should rather bury in silence, than mention it, were it not a most admirable instance, how men are enslaved by wickedness, and held captive by the devil. For whereas presently upon his censure at this time his ambition was moderated, his pride humbled, and the means of his former injustice and corruption removed; yet would he not relinquish the practice of his most horrible and secret sin of sodomie, keeping still on Godrick, a very effeminate faced youth, to be his catamite and bedfellow, although he had discharge the most of his other household servants: which was the more to be admired, because men generally after his fall began to discourse of that his unnatural crime, which he had practiced many years, deserting the bed of his Lady, which he accounted, as the Italians and the Turks do, a poor and mean pleasure in respect of the other; and it was thought by some, that he should have been tried at the Bar of Justice for it, and have satisfi ed the law most severe against that horrible villainy with the price of his blood; which caused some bold and forward man to write these verses following in a whole sheet of paper, and to cast it down in some part of York House in the strand, where Viscount St. Alban yet lay.” 111 Michel Eyquen de Montaigne’s Essay: xx, 1580 112 Translated by W.H. Fremantle: The Principal Works of St Jerome, 1893 330 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals rich one is torture. Notice too, that in the case of a wife you cannot pick or choose; you must take her as you fi nd her. If she has a bad temper, or is a fool, if she has a blemish, or is proud, or has bad breath, whatever her fault may be-all this we learn after marriage. Horses, asses, cattle, even slaves of the smallest worth, clothes, kettles, wooden seats, cups and earthenware pitchers, are fi rst tried and then bought: a wife is the only thing that is not shown before she is married, for fear she may not give satisfaction. Our gaze must always be directed to her face, and we must always praise her beauty: if you look at another woman, she thinks that she is out of favours. She must be called “My Lady”, her birthday must be kept, we must swear by her health and wish that she may survive us. Respect must be paid to the nurse, to the nursemaid, to the father’s slave; to the foster-child, to the handsome hanger-on, to the curled darling who manages her affairs, and to the eunuch who ministers to the safe indulgence of her lust; names which are only a cloak for adultery. Upon whomsoever she sets her heart, they must have her love, though they want her not. If you give her the management of the whole house, you must yourself be her slave. If you reserve something for yourself, she will think you are not loyal to her; bust she will turn to strife and hatred, and unless you quickly take care, she will have the poison ready. But what is the good of even a careful guardian, when an unchaste wife cannot be watched, and a chaste one out not to be? For necessity is but a faithless keeper of chastity, and she alone really deserves to be called chaste who is free to sin if she chooses. If a woman be fair, she soon fi nds lovers; if she be ugly, it is easy to be wanton. It is diffi cult to guard what many desire. It is annoying to have what no one thinks worth possessing. But the misery of having an ugly wife is less than that of keeping watch on a beautiful one. Nothing is safe for which a whole population sighs and longs. One man entices with his fi gure, another with his brains, another with his wit, another with his liberality. Somehow or other the fortress is captured which is attacked on all sides. Men marry, indeed, in order to get a housekeeper, to solace wariness, and to banish solitude; but a faithful slave is a far better manager, more submissive to the master, more observant of his ways, than a wife who thinks she proves herself mistress if she acts in opposition to her husband-that is, if she does what pleases her, not what she is bidden.

* I, Francis Bacon, shall say that to be without wife or children is good for a man only when he wants to run away.113 Alice was observed somewhat moody on her marriage day, as if she had eaten a dish of chums, which one of her bridesmen observing, bid her be cheery; and told her moreover, that an old horse would hold out as long, and as well as a young, in travel. What says she, fair Reader? To which she stoked down her belly with her hand: “But not in this road, Sir.”114 Poor wretch, and caitiff creature, brought into this pitiful and miserable estate!115 Who saith that one light should not be lighted from another light?

113 Francis Bacon: The Dignity and Advancement of Learning, book vi 114 (a) Francis Bacon’s Apophthegms (b) Resuscitatio, 1671 115 Extract from Sir Thomas North’s (1535–1601) Death Of Cleopatra Lochithea 331

Edward Coke becomes Chief Justice of the Common Pleas and Queen Elizabeth’s monument is set up at Westminster;116 a play, Macbeth, is performed at Hampton Court for his Majesty and King Christian of Denmark; my English publication of Filium Labyrinthi sive Formula Inquisitionis is released. Somehow, Coke’s insolence increases ’gainst me and I forward him a letter of expostulation:117

Mr. Attorney. I thought best, once for all, to let you know in plainness what I ﬁ nd of you, and what you shall ﬁ nd of me: you take to your self a liberty to disgrace and disable my law, my experience, my discretion: what it pleaseth you, I pray, think of me; I am one that knows both mine own wants and other men’s: and it may be perchance that mine mend when others stand at a stay. And surely, I may not endure, in public place, to be wronged without repelling the same to my best advantage to right my self. You are great, and therefore have the more enviers, which would be glad to have you paid at another’s cost. Since the time I missed the Solicitor’s place, (the rather I think by your means,) I cannot expect that you and I shall ever serve as Attorney and Solicitor together; but either to serve with another upon your remove, or to step into some other course: so as I am more free than ever I was from any occasion of unworthy conforming my self to you; more than general good manners or your particular good usage shall provoke. And if you had not been shortsighted in your own fortune, (as I think,) you might have had more use of me. But that tide is passed. I write not this, to show my friends, what a brave letter I have written to Mr. Attorney: I have none of those humours; but that I have written is to a good end; that is, to the more decent carriage of my master’s service; and to our particular better understanding one of another. This letter, if it shall be answered by you, in deed, and not in words, I suppose it will not be worse for us both: else it is but a few lines lost, which for a much smaller matter, I would have adventured. So this being to your self I for my part rest. Fra. Bacon.

Francis Bacon Essay LVI: Of Judicature. Judges ought to remember that their offi ce is jus dicere, and not jus dare; to interpret law, and not to make law, or give law. Else will it be like the authority claimed by the church of Rome, which under pretext of exposition of Scripture doth not stick to add and alter; and to pronounce that which they do not fi nd; and by shew of antiquity to introduce novelty. Judges ought to be more learned than witty, more reverend than plausible, and more advised than confi dent. Above all things, integrity is their portion and proper virtue. Cursed (saith the law) is he that removeth the landmark. The mislayer of a mere-stone is to blame. But it is the unjust judge that is the capital remover of landmarks, when he defi neth amiss of lands and property. One foul sentence doth more hurt than many foul examples. For these do but corrupt the stream, the other corrupteth the fountain. So saith

116 William Camden’s Diary 117 Resuscitatio, 1657 332 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Salomon, Fons turbatus, et vena corrupta, est justus cadens in causâ suâ coram adversario. [A righ- teous man falling down before the wicked is as a troubled fountain or a corrupt spring.] The offi ce of judges may have reference unto the parties that sue, unto the advocates that plead, unto the clerks and ministers of justice underneath them, and to the Sovereign or State above them. First, for the causes of parties that sue. There be (saith the Scripture) that turn judgment into wormwood; and surely there be also that turn it into vinegar; for injustice maketh it bitter, and delays make it sour. The principal duty of a judge is to suppress force and fraud; whereof force is the more pernicious when it is open, and fraud when it is close and disguised. And thereto contentious suits, which ought to be spewed out, as the surfeit of Courts. A judge ought to prepare his way to a just sentence, as God useth to prepare his way, by raising valleys and taking down hills: so when there appeareth on either side an high hand, violent prosecution, cunning advantages taken, combination, power, great counsel, then is the virtue of a judge seen, to make inequality equal; that he may plant his judgement as upon and even ground. Qui fortiter emungit, elicit sanguinem; [violent blowing makes the nose bleed] and where the wine-press is hard wrought, it yields a harsh wine, that tastes of the grape-stone. Judges must beware of hard constructions and strained infer- ences; for there is no worse torture than the torture of laws. Specially in case of laws penal, they ought to have care that that which was meant for terror be not turned into rigour; and that they bring not upon the people that shower whereof the Scripture speaketh, Pluet super eos laqueos; for penal laws pressed are a shower of snares upon the people. Therefore let penal laws, if they have been sleepers of long, or if they be grown unfi t for the present time, be by wise judges confi ned in the execution: Judicis offi cium est, ut res, ita tempora rerum, &c. [A judge must have regard to the time as well as to the matter.] In causes of life and death, judges ought (as far as the law permitteth) in justice to remember mercy; and to cast a severe eye upon the example, but a merciful eye upon the person. Secondly, for the advocates and counsel that plead. Patience and gravity of hearing is an essential part of justice; and an over speaking judge is no well-tuned cymbal. It is no grace to a judge fi rst to fi nd that which he might have heard in due time from the bar; or to show quickness of conceit in cutting off evidence or counsel too short; or to prevent information by questions, though pertinent. The parts of a judge in hearing are four: to direct the evidence; to moderate length, repetition, or impertinency of speech; to recapitu- late, select, and collate the material points of that which hath been said; and to give the rule or sentence. Whatsoever is above these is too much; and proceedeth either of glory and willingness to speak, or of impatience to hear, or of shortness of memory, or of want of a staid and equal attention. It is a strange thing to see that the boldness of advocates should prevail with judges; whereas they should imitate God, in whose seat they sit; who repress- eth the presumptuous, and giveth grace to the modest. But it is more strange, that judges should have noted favourites; which cannot but cause multiplication of fees, and suspicion of bye-ways. There is due from the judge to the advocate some commendation and gracing, where causes are well handled and fair pleaded; especially towards the side which obtaineth not; for that upholds in the client the reputation of his counsel, and beats down in him the conceit of his cause. There is likewise due to the public a civil reprehension Lochithea 333 of advocates, where there appeareth cunning counsel, gross neglect, slight information, indiscreet pressing, or an over-bold defence. And let not the counsel at the bar chop with the judge, nor wind himself in handling of the cause anew after the judge hath declared his sentence; but on the other side, let not the judge meet the cause half way, nor give occasion to the party to say his counsel or proofs were not heard. Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and ministers. The place of justice is an hallowed place; and therefore not only the bench, but the foot-pace and precincts and purprise thereof, ought to be preserved without scandal and corruption. For certainly Grapes (as the Scripture saith) will not be gathered of thorns or thistles; neither can justice yield her fruit with sweetness amongst the briars and brambles of catching and polling clerks and ministers. The attendance of Courts is subject to four bad instruments. First, certain persons that are sowers of suits; which make the Court swell, and the country pine. The second sort is of those that engage Courts in quarrels of jurisdiction, and are not truly amici curiæ, but parasitia curiæ, in puffi ng a Court up beyond her bounds, for their won scraps and advantage. The third sort is of those that may be accounted the left hands of Courts; persons that are full of nimble and sinister tricks and shifts, whereby they pervert the plain and direct courses of Courts, and bring justice into oblique lines and labyrinths. And the fourth is the poller and exacter of fees; which justifi es the common resemblance of the Courts of justice to the bush whereunto while the sheep fl ies for defence in weather, he is sure to lose part of his fl eece. On the other side, an ancient clerk, skilful in precedents, wary in proceeding, and understanding in the business of the Court, is an excellent fi nger of a Court; and doth many times point the way to the judge himself. Fourthly, for that which may concern the Sovereign and Estate. Judges ought above all to remember the conclusion of the Roman Twelve Tables; Salus populi suprema lex; [The supreme law of all is the wheel of the people;] and to know that laws, except they be in order to that end, are but things captious, and oracles not well inspired. Therefore it is an happy thing in a State when Kings and States do often consult with judges; and again, when judges do often consult with the King and State: the one, when there is matter of law intervenient in business of State; the other, when there is some consideration of State intervenient in matter of law. For many times the things deduced to judgment may be meum [mine] and tuum, [thine,] when the reason and consequence thereof may trench to point of Estate: I call matter of Estate, not only the parts of Sovereignty, but whatsoever introduceth any great alteration or dangerous precedent; or concerneth manifestly any great portion of people. And let no man weakly conceive that just laws and true policy have any antipathy; for they are like the spirits and sinews that one moves with the other. Let judges also remember, that Salomon’s throne was supported by lions on both sides: let them be lions, but yet lions under the throne; being circumspect that they do not check or oppose any points of Sovereignty. Let not judges also be so ignorant of their own right, as to think there is not left to them, as a principal part of their offi ce, a wise use and application of laws. For they may remember what the Apostle saith of a greater law than theirs; Nos scimus quia lex bona est, modo quis eâ utater legitime. [We know that the law is good, if a man use it lawfully.]

It is thought Mr. Attorney Coke, shall be Chief Justice of the Common Pleas: I would be glad now at last to be Solicitor; chieﬂ y because I think it would increase my practice, 334 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals wherein, God blessing me a few years, I may mend my state, and so after fall to my studies at ease; whereof one is requisite for my body, and the other serveth for my mind. A letter follows to my Lord of Salisbury, touching the position:118

It May Please Your Good Lordship. I am not ignorant how mean a thing I stand for, in desiring to come into the Solicitor’s place: for I know well it is not the thing it hath been; time having wrought alteration both in the profession and in the special place. Yet because I think it will increase my practice, and that it may satisfy my friends, and because I have been voiced to it, I would be glad it were done. Wherein I may say to your Lordship, in the confi dence, of your poor kinsman, and of a man by you advanced, Tu idem fer opem, qui spem dedisti; for, I am sure, it was not possible for a man living to have received from another more signifi cant and comfortable words of hope; your Lordship being pleased to tell me, during the course of my last service, that you would raise me, and that when you had resolved to raise a man, you were more careful of him than himself; and that what you had done for me in my marriage, was a benefi t to me, but of no use to your Lordship; and therefore, I must assure my self you would not leave me there; with many like speeches, which I knew my duty too well to take any other hold of, that the hold of a thankful remembrance. And I acknowledge, and all the world knoweth, that your Lordship is no dealer of holy water, but noble and real; and, on my part, I am of a sure ground that I have committed nothing that may deserve alteration. And therefore, my hope is, your Lordship will fi nish a good work, and consider that time groweth precious with me, and that I am now in vergentibus annis. And although I know that your fortune is not to need an hundred such as I am, yet I shall be ever ready to give you my best and fi rst fruits, and to supply, (as much as in me lieth,) worthiness, by thankfulness. Fra. Bacon.

It is not necessary I should longer insist upon the position; of two evils choose the least: Sir Henry Hobart receiveth it. I am exposed to expedient promotion to the Solicitor General King’s Serjeant. I quicken the matter and allow no sour ﬂ avours. My letter sees the Lord Chancellor:119

It May Please Your Good Lordship. As I conceived it to be a resolution, both with his Majesty and your Lordship’s of his council, that I should be placed solicitor, and the solicitor to be removed to be the King’s Serjeant: so I most thankfully acknowledge your Lordship’s furtherance and forwardness therein; your Lordship being the man that ﬁ rst devised the mean: wherefore my humble request to your Lordship is, that you would set in with some strength to ﬁ nish this your work; which I assure your Lordship, I desire the rather, because being placed, I hope, for

118 Resuscitatio, 1657 119 ibid., Lochithea 335 many favours at last, to be able to do you some better service. For as I am, your Lordship cannot use me, nor scarcely indeed know me. Not that I vainly think I shall be able to do any great matters, but certainly it will frame me to use a nearer observance and application to such as I honour so much as I do your Lordship; and not, (I hope,) without some good offi ces which may, now and then, deserve your thanks. And herewithal, (good my Lord,) I humbly pray your Lordship to consider that time groweth precious with me, and that a married man is seven years elder in his thoughts the fi rst day. And therefore, what a discomfortable thing it is for me to be unsettled still? Certainly, were it not that I think my self born to do my Sovereign service; and therefore in that station I will live and die; otherwise, for mine own private comfort, it were better for me, that the King did blot me out of his book; or that I should turn my course to endeavour to serve in some other kind, than for me, to stand thus at a stop; and to have that little reputation, which by my industry I gather to be scattered, and taken away, by continual disgraces, every new man coming above me. Sure I am, I shall never have fairer promises and words from all your Lordships. For I know not what my services are, (saving that your Lordships told me they were good;) and I would believe you, in a much greater matter. Were it nothing else, I hope the modesty of my suit deserveth somewhat; for I knew well the solicitor’s place is not as your Lordship left it; time working alteration, somewhat in the profession, much more in that special place. But to conclude, as my honourable Lady, your wife, was some mean to make me, change the name of another; so if it please you to help me to change mine own name, I can be, but more and more bounden to you: and I am much deceived, if your Lordship fi nd not the King well inclined, and my Lord of Salisbury forward and affectionate. Fra. Bacon.

My visit to Scotland allows for ease upon speeches in Parliament to support the union of the Kingdoms and naturalization of Scottish citizens; his Majesty doth me honour to address both Houses of Parliament concerning the union of the Kingdoms. How honestly ready I have been to do humble service to the best of my power, and in a manner, beyond my power, (as I now stand,) I am not so unfortunate but his Majesty knoweth. For both, in the commission of union, (the labour whereof, for men of my profession, resteth most upon my hand;) and this last Parliament, in the Bill of the subsidy; both body and preamble; in the Bill of attainders, both Tresham, and the rest; in the matter of the purveyance; in the ecclesiastical petitions; in the grievances, and the like; as I am ever careful, (and not without good success,) sometimes to put forward that which is good; sometimes to keep back, that which is not so good; so his Majesty is pleased, kindly to accept of my services, and to say to me, such confl icts were the wars of peace, and such victories the victories of peace; and therefore such servants that obtained them, were by Kings that reign in peace, no less to be esteemed than services of commanders in the wars. In all which, nevertheless, I can challenge to my self, no suffi ciency, but that I am diligent and reasonably happy to execute those directions, which I receive, either immediately from his royal mouth, or from my Lord of Salisbury. At which time it pleases his Majesty also to promise and assure me, that upon the remove of the then attorney, I should not be forgotten, but brought into ordinary place. And this is after confi rmed to me, by many of my Lords, and towards the end of the last term the manner also in particular is spoken of; that is, that Mr. Solicitor 336 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals should be made his Majesty’s Serjeant, and I Solicitor: for so it was thought best to sort with both our gifts and faculties for the good of service: and of this resolution, both Court and country, took knowledge. Neither was this any invention or project of mine own; but moved from my Lords, I think, fi rst from my Lord Chancellor: whereupon resting, I never opened my mouth for the greater place; though I am sure I had two circumstances, that Mr. Attorney, that now is, could not allege: the one, nine years service of the crown: the other, the being Cousin Germain, to the Lord of Salisbury, whom his Majesty esteemeth and trusteth so much. But for the less place, I conceive it was meant for me. But after that, Mr. Attorney Hobert is placed, I hear no more of my preferment; but it seems to me at a stop, to my great disgrace and discouragement. For if still, when the waters are stirred, another shall be put in before me, his Majesty had need work a miracle, or else, I shall be still, a lame man to do service. And therefore, my most humble suit is that this, which seemed to me intended, may speedily be performed; and, I hope, my former service, shall be but as beginnings to better, when I am better strengthened: for sure I am, no man’s heart is fuller, (I say not, but many may have greater hearts, but I say not fuller,) of love and duty towards his Majesty and his children; as, I hope, time will manifest ’gainst envy and detraction, if any be. Diverse events see the end of this season: I fi nd time to write my Cogitata et Visa de Interpetatione Naturae; the King pays the citizens of London £60,000 which Queen Elizabeth did owe;120 I lose two of my choice men, that despatched one another in the fi eld;121 Tobie Matthew is committed, by the Archbishop, to Fleet prison in refusal to take the religious oath, since he hath become a Roman Catholic whilst in Italy. Is all thy learning nothing, unless another knows that thou knowest?122

Mr Matthew,123 Do not think me forgetful or altered towards you. But if I should say, I could do you any good, I should make my power more than it is. I do hear that which I am right sorry for; that you grow more impatient and busy than at fi rst: which maketh me exceedingly fear the issue of that which seemeth not to stand at a stay. I my self am out of doubt that you have been miserably abused, when you were fi rst seduced: but that, which I take in compassion, others may take in severity. I pray God that understandeth us all, (better than we understand one another,) contain you, (even as I hope he will,) at the least within the bounds of loyalty to his Majesty, and natural piety towards your country. And I entreat you much, sometimes to meditate upon the extreme effects of superstition in this last powder treason; fi t to be tabled and pictured in the chambers of meditation, as another hell above the ground; and well justifying the censure of the heathen; that superstition is far worse than atheism: by how much it is less evil, to have no opinion of God at all; than such as is impious towards his divine Majesty and goodness. Good Mr. Matthew, receive

120 William Camden’s Diary 121 Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 122 Persius, Sat., i. 23 123 Resuscitatio, 1657 Lochithea 337 your self back from these courses of perdition. Willing to have written a great deal more, I continue. Fra. Bacon.

Of all my powers, I intercede for his release; he is called to the Council Table and offered six weeks leave to settle his affairs and depart England. How many things are there which a man cannot, with any face or comeliness, say or do himself? A man can scarce allege his own merits with modesty, much less extol them; a man cannot sometimes brook to suppli- cate or beg; and a number of the like. But all these things are graceful in a friend’s mouth, which are blushing in a man’s own. So again, a man’s person hath many proper relations, which he cannot put off. A man cannot speak to his son but as a father; to his wife but as a husband; to his enemy but upon terms: whereas a friend may speak as the case requires, and not as it sorteth with the person. But to enumerate these things were endless; I have given the rule, where a man cannot ﬁ tly play his own part; if he have not a friend, he may quit the stage; for the greatest moments of man are his acquaintances. Nothing is extreme, that has its like; for table-talk, I prefer the pleasant and witty before the learned and the grave; in bed, beauty before goodness; in common discourse, the ablest speaker, whether or no there be sincerity in the case. And, as he that was found astride upon a hobby-horse, playing with his children, entreated the person who had surprised him in that posture to say nothing of it till himself came to be a father, supposing that the fondness that would then possess his own soul, would render him a fairer judge of such an action; so I, also, could wish to speak to such as have had experience of what I say: though, knowing how remote a thing such a friendship is from the common practice, and how rarely it is to be found, I despair of meeting with any such judge. While I have sense left to me, there will never be anything more acceptable to me than an agreeable friend.124

Upon The Expectation Of A Friend’s Coming To Me By Tobias Matthew125 Give me that hand to kiss, that with such grace hath drawn the picture of the precious love Whose only sight had power to remove grief from my wounded heart, tears from my face For now I hope we shall run on that race which here begins, but ends in heaven above where joys will never end, but all things move to more perfection, and still mend their pace Thou say I foremost go, and so I will that thou may turn me, I chance to stray so horse run before the watchman still

124 Horace, Sat., i. 5, 44 125 Anthony G. Petti: Unknown Sonnets by Sir Toby Matthew: vol. ii, ff. 88–95 published in 1659 338 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

so he that holds the steer, doth hindmost stay to guide the rest, thou art my guide my heart Crown of my head my body’s soul thou art

We are seen upon a proclamation ’gainst new buildings in the city and near to the city, yet a new banqueting hall is built at Whitehall by provisions of the city; a ﬁ ne of £10.000 is announced for the killing of Dr. Lamb in the streets of London by the Apprentices.126 The boards of Black-Friars see Francis Beaumont’s The Knight of the Burning Pestle127 and still, the advancement toward Attorney General remains still water. I offer my humble pardon and write his Majesty on the matter:128

It May Please Your Majesty. Your great and Princely favours towards me, in advancing me to place; and that, which is to me, of no less comfort, your Majesty’s benign and gracious acceptation, from time to time, of my poor services, much above the merit and value of them; hath almost brought me to an opinion that I may sooner, (perchance,) be wanting to my self in not asking, than fi nd your Majesty’s goodness wanting to me, in any my reasonable and modest desires. And therefore, perceiving, how at this time, preferments of law fl y about mine ears; to some above me, and to some below me; I did conceive your Majesty may think it rather a kind of dullness, or want of faith, than modesty, if I should not come with my pitcher to Jacob’s well, as others do. Wherein I shall propound to your Majesty, that which tendeth not so much, to the raising of my fortune, as to the settling of my mind; being sometimes assailed with this cogitation, that by reason of my slowness to see and apprehend sudden occasions, keeping on one plain course of painful service, I may, (in fi ne dierum,) be in danger to be neglected and forgotten. And if that should be, then were it much better for me, now while I stand in your Majesty’s good opinion, (though unworthy,) and have some little reputation in the world, to give over the course I am in, and to make proof, to do you some honour by my pen, either by writing some faithful narrative of your happy, (though not untraduced,) times; or by recompiling your laws, (which, I perceive, your Majesty laboureth with; and hath in your head, as Jupiter had Pallas;) or some other the like work: (for without some endeavour to do you honour, I would not live;) than to spend my wits and time in this laborious place wherein I now serve; if it shall be deprived of those outward ornaments which it was wont to have, in respect of an assured succession, to some place, of more dignity and rest, which seemeth now to be an hope altogether casual, if not wholly intercepted. Wherefore, (not to hold your Majesty long,) my humble suit to you, is that, than the which, I think, I cannot well go lower; which is, that I may obtain your royal promise to succeed, (if I live,) into the Attorney’s place, whensoever it shall be void:

126 Aubrey’s Brief Lives 127 Ayako Kawanami’s Essay on Thomas Heywood’s Preservation of the Bases of Elizabethan Theatre read at the annual convention of the Shakespeare Society of Japan, which was held at Hiroshima in October, 1995 128 Resuscitatio, 1657 Lochithea 339 it being but the natural and immediate step and rise, which the place I now hold hath ever, (in sort,) made claim to, and almost never failed of. In this suit, I make no friends to your Majesty, but rely upon no other motive but your grace; nor any other assurance but your word; whereof I had good experience, when I came to the Solicitor’s place; that it was like, to the two great lights, which in their motions, are never retrograde. So with my best prayers, for your Majesty’s happiness, I rest. Fra. Bacon.

Indeed, his Majesty admitteth audience to me; promises and gives me his word that my request is sealed for my intention. My friends tell me that Hobart is not well and possibly the vacancy of Attorney should be looked into soon. Fearing the back door infl uence of Coke ’gainst my back, I remind his Majesty of our audience: “I do understand by some of my good friends, to my great comfort, that your Majesty hath in mind your Majesty’s royal promise, (which to me is anchora spei,) touching the Attorney’s place. I hope Mr. Attorney shall do well. I thank God I wish no man’s death; nor much mine own life, more than to do your Majesty service. For I account my life the accident, and my duty the substance. But this, I will be bold to say. If it please God, that ever I serve your Majesty in the Attorney’s place, I have known an Attorney Coke, and an Attorney Hobert; both worthy men, and far above my self: but if I should not fi nd a middle way between their two dispositions and carriages, I should not satisfy my self. But these things are far or near, as it shall please God. Meanwhile, I most humbly pray your Majesty to accept my sacrifi ce of thanksgiving for your gracious favour.” It be upon the death of Fleming that alloweth me to convey further:129 “It May Please Your Most Excellent Majesty. Having understood of the death of the Lord Chief Justice, I do ground in all humbleness as an assured hope, that your Majesty will not think of any other but your poor servants, your Attorney and your Solicitor, one of them for that place. Else we shall be like Noah’s dove, not knowing where to rest our feet. For the places of rest after the extreme painful place wherein we serve have used to be either the Lord Chancellor’s place, of the Mastership of the Rolls, or the place of Chief Justices; whereof for the fi rst I could be almost loth to live to see this worthy Chancellor fail. The Mastership of the Rolls is blocked with a reversion.130 My Lord Coke is likely to outlive us both. So as, if this turn fail, I for my part know not whither to look. I have served your Majesty above a prenticehood full seven years and more as your solicitor, which is, I think, one of the painfullest places in your Kingdom, especially as my employments have been; and God hath brought mine own years to fi fty-two, which I think is older than ever any solicitor continues unpreferred. My suit is principally that you would remove Mr. Attorney to the place. If he refuse, then I hope your Majesty will seek no farther than my self, that I may at last, out of your Majesty’s grace and favour, step forwards to a place either of more comfort or more ease. Besides, how necessary it is for your Majesty to strengthen your service amongst the judges by a chief justice which is sure to your prerogative, your Majesty knoweth. Therefore I cease father to trouble your Majesty, humbly

129 Spedding: Life, vol. vi. p. 70 130 Lord Kinlosse to be succeeded by Sir Julius Cæsar 340 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals craving pardon, and relying wholly on your goodness and remembrance and resting in all true humbleness, &c.,” I had always contemplated that in order to forward a change, it was not only appropriate to forward suggestions, but proposals of these suggestions becoming; I suggest and back it up with a proposal, since I am not in favour of waiting for any other person to suggest a proposal that so endured my own wishes of placement. The proposals are immediately adopted by his Majesty: Coke to King’s Bench in making vacancy to the offi ce of Chief Justice of the Common Pleas. All see its favour, including Hobart. These are the views I submit to his Majesty’s perusal: reasons why it should be exceedingly much for his Majesty’s service to remove the Lord Coke from the place he now holdeth to be Chief Justice of England, and the Attorney to succeed him, and the Solicitor the Attorney. First, it will strengthen the King’s causes greatly amongst the judges, for both my Lord Coke will think himself near a Privy Councillor’s place, and thereupon turn obsequious and the Attorney General, a new man and a grave person in a judge’s place, will come in well to the other, and hold him hard to it, not without emulation between them who shall please the King best. Secondly, The Attorney General sorteth not so well with his present place, being a man timid and scrupulous, both in Parliament and other business, and one, in a word, that was made fi t for the late Lord Treasurer’s seat, which was to do little with much formality and protestation; whereas the new Solicitor, going more roundly to work, and being of a quicker and more earnest temper, and more effectual in that he dealeth in, is like to recover that strength to the King’s prerogative with it hath had in times past, and which is due unto it. And for that purpose there must be brought to be Solicitor some man of courage and speech, and a grounded lawyer; which done, his Majesty will speedily fi nd a marvellous change in his business. For it is not to purpose for the judges to stand well disposed, except the King’s Counsel, which is the active and moving part, put the judges well to it; for in a weapon, what is a back without an edge? Thirdly, the King shall continue and add reputation to the Attorney’s and Solicitor’s place by this orderly advancement of them; which two places are the champion’s places for his rights and prerogative, and, being stripped of their expectations and successions to great place, will wax vile, and then his Majesty’s prerogative goeth down the wind. Besides this remove of Lord Coke to a place of less profi t, though it be with his will, yet will be thought abroad a kind of discipline to him for opposing himself in the King’s causes, the example whereof will contain others in more awe.131 Who in his folly seeks to advance backwards, Reader?132 Old father Thames revealeth frost; a spectacle of fantastics by youths burning gallons of wine on ice in entertainment to passers by. Anthony and Cleopatra with Pericles break the icicle boards,133 and I become registrar of the Star Chamber and am appointed Treasurer of Gray’s Inn. In Court, I am in argument in the Postnati case and have time to forward more writs on Redargiutio Philosophiarum, Cogitata et Visa, and a short discourse of Queen Elizabeth’s life in the Latin tongue; though it is saith that I doth langueseire toward the

131 Spedding: Life, vol. vi. p. 71 132 Lucretius, iv. 474 133 William R. Leigh: Clipt Wings, 1930 Lochithea 341 end, and fall from my fi rst pitch; neither dare they warrant that my Latin will abide test or touch.134 His Majesty desireth to proceed towards the union of this whole island of Great Britain under one law; a preparation for the Union of Laws is at pen’s fi nalities to which is humbly forwarded to his Majesty that I divide, as I hold it fi ttest for the present purpose, into four parts; the fi rst, concerning criminal causes; the second, concerning the causes of the church; the third, concerning magistrates, offi cers, and Courts; and the fourth, concerning certain special politic laws, usages, and constitutions, that do import the public peace, strength, and wealth of the Kingdom.135 A report by the Barons of the Exchequer, The Solicitor-General, the Recorder of London, and of my self hath writ to the Privy Council: a suit which has been of late presented to his Majesty and by him referred to his Lordship’s consideration: the substance of which suit is to have a warrant directed to some offi cer to demand and collect fi nes upon actions of debt and other fi nal be actions to be sued in all other Courts of England (other than the Courts held at Westminster), concerning which his Lordship’s require us to certify our opinions in all points at our speediest opportunity. I lay the report aside and glance at my notebook scribbles:

To attend sometime his repasts, and to fall into a course of familiar discourse; to have ever in readiness matter to minister talk with every of the great Counsellors respective, both to induce familiarity, and for countenance in public place; to correspond with Salisbury in a habit of natural but noways perilous boldness, and in vivacity, invention, care to cast and enterprise (but with due caution, for this manner I judge both in his nature freeth the stands, and in his ends pleaseth him best and promiseth most use of me); to have particular occasions, fi t, and grateful, and continual, to maintain private speech with every the great persons, and sometimes drawing more than one of them together. This specially in public places, and without care of affectation. To free myself at once from payment of formality and compliment, though with some show of carelessness and rudeness. Scribbles to avoid all manner of the plague: twenty-six souls lost in a day. I am like another man’s ground battling upon his house, which might mend his prospect, but it did not fi ll his barn; my attained reversion (in 1589) of the Register’s Offi ce, in the Star Chamber, now worth £1.600 per annum.

I cast not to fail to attend Coke the morrow, which is the day his Lordship hath appointed for being at London; but having this day about noon received knowledge of his being at Kensington, and that it hath pleased him to send for me to dine, I make what diligence to return from Gorhambury. Cecil requests my assistance in a legal matter: according to his warrant, I make a book ready for his Majesty’s signature to the use of a Mrs. Ellis of the benefi t of an extent of the lands and goods of a Richard Young, her father, extended for a debt of £3.000 upon recog- nizances; which book is since past the Great Seal. And now, having received order from Cecil for amendment of the defects in that patent, I fi nd the case to be thus, that she has since discovered two other debts of record, the one of £8.511. 19s 4d., the other of £2.100 remaining upon account in the Pipe Offi ce. And though it be true that she shall reap no

134 Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 135 Spedding: Works, vol. xv. p. 317 342 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals beneﬁ t by the former grant, except these debts be likewise released, on regard the King may come upon the said lands and goods for these debts, and it may be the meaning was in Queen Elizabeth to free and acquit Mr. Young of all debts; for else Quid te exempta juvat spinis de pluribus una? Yet do I not see how I may pass the book again, with a release of these two debts, without Coke’s further warrant, which I humbly submit to his honourable consideration.136 Tobie Matthew is to suffer his ﬁ rst exile from England. There are men who are learning to speak at a time when they should learn to be silent forever. Howsoever, various things delight various men; all things are not for all ages.137

Upon the Sight of Dover Cliffs from Callis By Tobias Matthew138 Better it were for me to have been blind than with sad eyes to gaze upon the shore of my dear country, but now mine no more which thrusts me thus, both of sight and mind Better for me to have in cradle pinned than live thus long to choke upon the core of his sad absence, whom I still adore with present heart, for hearts are not conﬁ ned Poor heart, that dost in so high tempest sail against both wind and tide, of thy friends will what remedy remains, than can avail but that thou do with sighs, the sails fulﬁ l until they split, and if the body die ’tis well employed, the soul shall live thereby

The images of men’s wits and knowledges remain in books; De Sapientia Veterum is pub- lished139 after taking so much time on writing The Plantation of Ireland of which I mention to Casaubon, that to write at leisure what is to be read at leisure does not interest me. My concern is with life and human affairs and all their troubles and difﬁ culties. It is these I wish to improve by true and wholesome thoughts. I seem to have my conversation among the ancients more than amongst those with whom I live. Smile upon us whilst we are alive Reader, for Dr. Dee leaveth us this day. I hear that his Majesty hath bought up Lumley’s library, one of the grandest in England. Of others heareth that I decide to incorporate further into the Virginia Company and become a member of its Council and its schemes to colonise North America. Joining me in this

136 Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University: No. Ig G835 584d 137 Pseudo-Gallus, i. 103 138 Anthony G. Petti: Unknown Sonnets by Sir Toby Matthew: vol. ii, ff. 88–95 published in 1659 139 English translation by Sir Arthur Gorges, 1619 Lochithea 343 venture is Montgomery, Pembroke and Southampton.140 Of some correspondence juggle and trifl e betwixt Thomas Hariot and Raleigh: “There is a kind of grass in the country upon the blades where of there groweth very good silk in form of a thin glittering skin to be stript of. It groweth two foot and a half high or better: the blades are about two foot in length, and half inch broad. The like groweth in Persia, which is in the self same climate as Virginia, of which very many of the silk works that come from thence into Europe are made. There are two kinds of grapes that the soil doth yield naturally: the one is small and sour of the ordinary bigness as ours in England: the other far greater and of himself lus- cious sweet. When they are plated and husbanded as they ought, a principal commodity of wines by them may be raised. There are also three several kinds of berries in the form of oak acorns; all along the sea coast there are great store of otters, which being taken by wears and other engines made for the purpose, will yield good profi t; we found near the water side the ground to be rocky, which by the trail of a mineral man, was found to hold iron richly; we found with the inhabitants diverse small plates of copper.” His letters are long reports that would fi ll many pages should I wed them in these pages.141 I write to Salisbury that I have not laid down my assistance in his matters of interest: “The assurance which by your Lordship’s directions was to be passed to his Majesty by Richard Forebenche, one of the yeomen of the guard of Potter’s Park, within the parish of Chertsey, in the county of Surrey, is thoroughly perfected.” I allow Salisbury to get an inclination of an adventurous project on the verge of the transportation in gold and silver: “Though Mr. Chancellor and we rested upon the old proclamation which Mr. Attorney brought forth, for matter of transportation of gold and silver, yet because I could not tell whither it were that your Lordship looked far from us, and because if you should be of other opinion things might be in readiness, I send your Lordship a draught of a new proclamation, wherein I have likewise touched the point of change in that manner as was most agreeable to that I conceived of your intent. Sir Henry Neville has sent up a solicitor of the cause, to whom I perceive by Mr. Calvert your Lordship is pleased a copy of his answer when it shall be taken may be delivered.” My chiefest care be St. Paul’s Churchyard of book sellers and is of like to be well furnished this coming season; the town is at present very empty and solitary, there being nothing thought on, by reason of the sickness, but fugæ et formidines. In Oxford, they are suddenly affrighted, and most of the scholars fl ee; the plague being broken out in two colleges, Brazennose and St. John’s, and in two places of the town in two days.142 Writing to Salisbury on a legal matter, I send an abstract of the bonds and conditions touching the depopulation, whereby it will appear that all the articles and branches of the condition consist only of matter of reformation in the country, and not of any benefi t to the King otherwise than that the forfeiture in point of law belongeth to his Majesty; but then

140 William H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861: “The United States can also claim among their muster-roll of Founders the not less noble name of Francis Bacon. Will the day come, when, dropping such feeble names as Troy and Syracuse, the people of the Great Republic will give the august and immortal name of Bacon to one of their splendid cities?” 141 De Brys’ brief and true report of the New Found Land of Virginia: Library of Congress, 1590 142 Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 344 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals the reformation is at large. I should have found this comfortable enough, yet I may truly afﬁ rm that of comfort, I feel to writ to Tobie Matthew from Gray’s Inn: “Mr. Matthew. I plainly perceive by your affectionate writing touching my work, that one and the same thing affecteth us both; which is the good end to which it is dedicate. For your caution for church-men and church-matters, as for any impediment it might be to the applause and celebrity of my work, it moveth me not; but as it may hinder the fruit and good which may come of a quiet and calm passage to the good port to which it is bound, I hold it a just respect; so as to fetch a fair wind I go not too far about. But the troth is, I shall have no occasion to meet them in my way, except it be as they will needs confederate themselves with Aristotle, who, you know, is intemperately magniﬁ ed with the school men; and is also allied (as I take it) to the Jesuits, by Faber, who was a companion of Loyola, and a great Aristotelian. I send you at this time the only part which hath any harshness; and yet I framed to myself an opinion, that whosoever allowed well of that preface which you so much commend, will not dislike, or at least ought not to dislike, this other speech of preparation; for it is written out of the same spirit, and out of the same necessity.” Should the above letter hath any comfort to Tobie, I cannot say; for he is now in suffer of melancholy, and how to have health in his body, and money in his purse; which, upon the matter, is no more than to maintain a kind of scurvy life, whereof beasts are more naturally capable. When he sleeps in a great sickness of melancholy, a sonnet is made, and he, recovering having slept, writ:

Sonnet143 By Tobie Matthew It is no wonder though it look like one that thou who art the sovereign friend of friends dost govern health, and what thereon depends bidding sleep come and calenture begone Thy matchless worth in curious mould is cast thou hast a heart that speaks a tongue that thinks a face which looking on the best eye winks to ﬁ nd it self so darkened and disgraced Thy outside is although most manly fair deformed, if I compare it to the mind whose health and strength and beauty so reﬁ ned I wonder how it lives in less than air This mind so great, so equal and so pure which scorns the moon for changing and the sun for suffering clouds his beams to overrun subdues all hearts, and stoops them to his lure and if man’s heart the best of God’s creation how much more, sleep and sickness mere privation

143 Anthony G. Petti: Unknown Sonnets by Sir Toby Matthew: vol. ii, ff. 88–95 published in 1659 Lochithea 345

The King’s men have been given £30 by his Majesty to redeem their losses: six weeks from the stage; and in performing at his Majesty’s private service with Macbeth and Cymbeline.144 There is a proclamation ’gainst Dr. Cowell’s book, entitled The Interpreter. I send Tobie Matthew a copy of De Sapientiâ Veterum,145 with this note: “Mr. Matthew. I do very heartily thank you for your letter from Salamanca. And, in recompense thereof, I send you a little work of mine that hath begun to pass the world. They tell me my Latin is turned into silver, and become current: had you been here, you should have been my inquisitor before it came forth. But I think the greatest inquisitor in Spain will allow it. But one thing you must pardon me, if I make no haste to believe, that the world should be grown to such an ecstasy as to reject truth in philosophy, because the author dissenteth in religion: no more than they do by Aristotle or Averroes. My great work goeth forward; and after my manner, I alter ever, when I add. So that nothing is ﬁ nished till all be ﬁ nished. This I have written in the midst of a term and Parliament; thinking no time so possessed, but that I should talk of these matters with so good and dear a friend. And so, with my wanted wishes, I leave you God’s goodness.” His reply arriveth simple yet as a stone torn from the mountain’s top by the wind or rain torrents, or loosened by age, falls massive with mighty force, bounds here and there, in its course sweeps all before it, woods, herds and men.146

A New Year’s Gift By Tobias Matthew147 Reason reclaims though custom do invite my pen to make a present of my mind but how can any body be assigned to give a thing, wherein he hath no right Thou knowest I am not master of a might my hands are bound and both mine eyes are blind and all the powers of my heart resigned to thee my sun by day, my stars by night Though this be true I am not brought so low but that I have a jewel left in store more rich than Indies East or West can show Thy heart, that thou hast given me before Take it, but see thou send it back as fast nor else, this year’s ﬁ rst day will be my last

144 (a) F.P. Wilson: The Plague in Shakespeare’s London, 1963 (b) William R. Leigh: Clipt Wings, 1930 145 Resuscitatio, 1657 146 Æneid xii. 684 147 Anthony G. Petti: Unknown Sonnets by Sir Toby Matthew: vol. ii, ff. 88–95 published in 1659 346 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

The Globe theatre entertains its boards with Macbeth then Othello for the Prince of Württemberg,148 whilst Henri IV., King of France hath a heart weak for love and brave for war; a true weed before the bat of an eyelid of jewelish eyes, wherefore his count of bed wenches come to as many of his years on this earth, till the lament chimes of this day ring for him as he takes a dagger from Ravaillac and is killed.149 But of concern to me is Tobie’s words that fl oat before my eyes: “There was with me this day one Mr. Richard White, who hath spent some little time at Florence, and is now gone into England. He tells me, that Galileo had answered your discourse concerning the fl ux and refl ux of the sea, and was sending it unto me; but that Mr. White hindered him, because his answer was grounded upon a false supposition, namely, that there was in the ocean a full sea but once in twenty-four hours. But now I will call upon Galileo again. This Mr. White is a discreet and understanding gentleman, though he seem a little soft, if not slow; and he hath in his hands all the works, (as I take it,) of Galileo, some printed, and some unprinted. He hath his discourse of the fl ux and refl ux of the sea, which was never printed; as also a discourse of the mixture of metals. Those which are printed in his hand are these: the Nuncius Sidereus; the Macchie Solarie, and a third Delle Cose, che stanno su I’acqua, by occasion of a disputation that was amongst learned men in Florence about which Archimendes wrote de insidentibus humido.” All this does not sound very ill. I durst speak in defence of the royal prerogative. My letter regarding the founding of a new hospital sees Sir Julius Cæsar from Gray’s Inn: Sir Robert Steward his petition exhibited to his Majesty in the name of Edward Williams, for the new founding of the Hospital of St. John’s in the town of Bedford. I fi nd not this order to be absolute or merely judicial; that they come provided to make defence and answer to three points: that is, the King’s title now in the patentee; the order and agreement in the Exchequer, why it was not performed; and the estate of the hospital, whether it be decayed and misemployed. Parliament dissolves; so doth my mother at the age of two and eighty. Her fi nal letter shows of her ailing health:150 “Though my increased pain in superfi cie cutis be extraordinary to me, and may partly support some venom to be drunk with those black worms I took in drink and twice, about half a pint of them, yet you know the learned do call senet gipsum morby. Since my quartan fever fi nd by divers accidents to be true and very painful and I humble acknowledge God’s mercy that moveth my mind to take age, sickliness and infi rmities being natural as well as you. And yet I use such good means by counsel and diet as may make my uneasy warranted pain more tolerable, and I fi nd much ease by the diet wholesome and earlier suppers before six, and clean usual drink never in the night and seldom in morning or betwixt meals. Your continual uncomfortable state of body doubleth what gifts God sendeth me, therefore patience in your disease, and the Lord have pity on his children. I lament your continual bodily impotence the more because you are so thereby as it were cast off and unabled. Labour therefore by hearty prayers.”

148 See F.P. Wilson: The Plague in Shakespeare’s London, 1963 149 Thornton Hall: Love affairs of the Courts of Europe 150 See Daphne du Maurier: Golden Lads, 1975 Lochithea 347

I write to Cecil’s private secretary, Michael Hicks, should he wish to attend her funeral, as I know Cecil may not: It is but a wish and not in any ways to desire it his trouble. But I heartily wish I had his company here at my mother’s funeral, which I purpose on Thursday next in the forenoon. I dare promise a good sermon to be made by Mr. Fenton the preacher of Gray’s Inn, for he never maketh other. Feast I make none. But if I might have his company for two or three days at my house I should pass over this mournful occasion with more comfort. If his son had continued at St Julian’s it might have been an adamant to have drawn him: but now if he come I must say it is only for my sake.

Francis Bacon Essay XLVIII. Of Followers and Friends. Costly followers are not to be liked; lest while a man maketh his train longer, he maketh his wings shorter. I reckon to be costly, not them alone which charge the purse, but which are wearisome and importune in suits. Ordinary followers ought to challenge no higher conditions than countenance, recommendation, and protection from wrongs. Factious followers are worse to be liked, which follow not upon affection to him with whom they range themselves, but upon discontentment conceived against some other; whereupon commonly ensueth that ill intelligence that we many times see between great personages. Likewise glorious followers, who make themselves as trumpets of the commendation of those they follow, are full of inconvenience; for they taint business through want of secrecy; and they export honour from a man, and make him a return in envy. There is a kind of followers likewise which are dangerous, being indeed espials; which inquire the secrets of the house, and bear tales of them to others. Yet such men, many times, are in great favour; for they are offi cious, and commonly exchange tales. The following by certain estates of men, answerable to that which a great person himself professeth, (as of soldiers to him that hath been employed in the wars, and the like,) hath ever been a thing civil, and well taken even in monarchies; so it be without too much pomp or popularity. But the most honourable kind of following is to be followed as one that apprehendeth to advance virtue and desert in all sorts of persons. And yet, where there is no eminent odds in suffi ciency, it is better to take with the more passable, than with the more able. And besides, to speak truth, in base times active men are of more use than virtuous. It is true that in government it is good to use men of one rank equally: for to countenance some extraordinarily, is to make them insolent, and the rest discontent; because they may claim a due. But contrariwise, in favour, to use men with much difference and election is good; for it maketh the persons preferred more thankful, and the rest more offi cious: because all is of favour. It is good discretion not to make too much of any man at the fi rst; because one cannot hold out that proportion. To be governed (as we call it) by one, is not safe; for it shews softness, and gives a freedom to scandal and disreputation; for those that would not censure or speak ill of a man immediately, will talk more boldly of those that are so great with them, and thereby wound their honour. Yet to be distracted with many is worse; for it makes men to be of the last impression, and full of change. To take advice of some few friends is over honourable; for lookers-on many times see more than gamesters; and the vale best discovereth the hill. There is little friendship in the world, and least of all between equals, which was wont to be magnifi ed. That that is, is between superior and inferior, whose fortunes may comprehend the one the other. Trials Be Trials 1611 (12) of the age fi fty to 1616 of the age fi fty-fi ve

Part III

The ﬁ rst thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers —William Shakespeare

When a notorious rogue, being brought to the bar, and knowing his case to be desperate, instead of pleading, he takes to him self the liberty of jesting, and thus saith to me, “I charge you in the King’s name, to seize and take away that man in the red gown, for I go in danger of my life because of him.” The rogue acts like as children do with their babies when they have played enough with them they take sport to undo them.1 I very often forget both the one and the other of these vain offences and soon cometh mine appointment as President of the Court of the Verge and Chief Advisor to the crown. And then, a Thomas Overbury2 is imprisoned in the Tower; I will unbolt to you Reader, all

1 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 2 Thomas Overbury (1581–1613), English poet and essayist, and the victim of one of the most sensational crimes in English history, was the son of Nicholas Overbury, of Bourton-on-the- Hill, and was born at Compton Scorpion, near Ilmington, in Warwickshire. In the autumn of 1595 he became a gentleman commoner of Queen’s College, Oxford, took his degree of BA in 1598 and came to London to study law in the Middle Temple. He found favour with Sir Robert Cecil, travelled on the Continent and began to enjoy a reputation for an accomplished mind and free manners. About the year 1601, being in Edinburgh on a holiday, he met Robert Carr, then an obscure page to the earl of Dunbar; and so great a friendship was struck up between the two youths that they came up to London together. Overbury was knighted in June 1608, and in 1609 he travelled in France and the Low Countries. He seems to have followed the fortunes of Carr very closely, and “such was the warmth of the friendship, that they were inseparable, … nor could Overbury enjoy any felicity but in the company of him he loved [Carr].” When the latter was made Viscount Rochester in 1610, the intimacy seems to have been sustained. But it was now destroyed by a new element. Early in 1611 the Court became aware of the mutual attraction between Rochester and the infamous and youthful Countess of Essex, who seemed to have bewitched the handsome Scots adventurer. To this intrigue Overbury was from the ﬁ rst violently opposed, pointing out to Rochester that an indulgence in

348 Lochithea 349 facts duly, to conclude on result to the effect of satisfaction to his Majesty. Of ﬁ rst, I must and will writ of a disturbing matter to my Lord Mayor: “My very good Lord. I did little expect when I left your Lordship last, that there would have been a proceeding against Mr. Barnard, to his overthrow. Wherein I must confess my self, to be in a sort, accessory: because he relying upon me, for counsel, I advised that course which he followed. Wherein now I begin to question my self, whether in preserving my respects unto your Lordship, and the rest, I have not failed in the duty of my profession towards my client. For certainly if the words had been heinous and spoken in a malicious fashion, and in some public place and well proved; and not a prattle, in a tavern, caught hold of, by one, who (as I hear) is a detected sycophant (Standish I mean;) yet I know not what could have been done more, than to impose upon him a grievous ﬁ ne; and to require the levying of the same; and to

it would be hurtful to his preferment, and that the woman, even at this early stage in her career, was already “noted for her injury and immodesty.” But Rochester was now infatuated, and he repeated to the Countess what Overbury had said. It was at this time, too, that Overbury wrote, and circulated widely in manuscript, the poem called His Wife, which was a picture of the virtues which a young man should demand in a woman before he has the rashness to marry her. It was represented to Lady Essex that Overbury’s object in writing this poem was to open the eyes of Rochester to her defects. The situation now resolved itself into a deadly duel for the person of Rochester between the mistress and the friend. The Countess contrived to lead Overbury into such a trap as to make him seem disrespectful to the King. James I., was instigated to offer the Ambassadorship of Russia to Overbury, which he declined, as he sensed the urgency to remain in England and at his friend’s side. James I., was so irate at Overbury’s arrogance in declining the offer that he had him thrown into the Tower on April 22, 1613. It was not known at the time, and it is not certain now, how far Rochester participated in this fi rst crime, or whether he was ignorant of it. But the Queen, by a foolish phrase, had sown discord between the friends; she had called Overbury Rochester’s “governor.” It is, indeed, apparent that Overbury had become arrogant with success, and was no longer a favourite at Court. Lady Essex, however, was not satisfi ed with having had him shut up; she was determined that “he should return no more to this stage.” She had Sir William Wade, the honest Governor of the Tower, removed to make way for a creature of her own, Sir Gervaise Elvis (or Heiwys); and a gaoler, of whom it was ominously said that he was “a man well acquainted with the power of drugs,” was set to attend on Overbury. This fellow, Weston, afterwards aided by Mrs. Turner, the widow of a physician, and by an apothecary called Franklin, plied the miserable poet with sulfuric acid in the form of copper vitriol. But his constitution long withstood the timid doses they gave him, and he lingered in exquisite sufferings until September 15, 1613. Two months later Rochester, now Earl of Somerset, married the chief murderess, Lady Essex. More than a year passed before suspicion was roused, and when it was, the King showed a disinclination to bring the offenders to justice. In the celebrated trial which followed, however, evidence of a plot was uncovered. The four accomplices were hanged; the countess of Somerset pleaded guilty but was spared, and Somerset himself was disgraced. Meanwhile, Overbury’s poem, The Wife, was published in 1614, and ran through six editions within a year, the scandal connected with the murder of the author greatly aiding its success. It was abundantly reprinted within the next sixty years, and it continued to be one of the most widely popular books of the 17th century. Combined with later editions of The Wife, and gradually adding to its bulk, were Characters (fi rst printed in the second of the 1614 editions). The Remedy of Love (1620), and Observations in Foreign Travels (1626). Later, much that must be spurious was added to the gathering snowball of Overbury’s Works—Wikimedia Org 350 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals take away his means of life, but his disfranchisement; and to commit him, to a defame prison during Christmas; in honour whereof the prisoners in other Courts do commonly, of grace, obtain some enlargement. This rigour of proceeding, (to tell your Lordship, and the rest, as my good friends, my opinion plainly,) tendeth not to strengthen authority, which is best supported by love and fear, intermixed; but rather to make people discontented and servile; especially when such punishment is infl icted for words not by rule of law, but by a jurisdiction of discretion which would evermore be moderately used. And I pray God, whereas Mr. Recorder, when I was with you, did well, and wisely put you in mind of the admonitions you often received from my Lords, that you should bridle unruly tongues; that those kind of speeches and rumours, whereunto those admonitions do refer, which are concerning the state and honour thereof, do not pass too licentiously in the city unpunished; while these words, which concern your particular, are so sprightly enquired into, and punished with such extremity. But these things, your own wisdom, (fi rst or last,) will best represent unto you. My writing unto you at this time is to the end that howsoever I do take it somewhat unkindly, that my mediation prevailed no more; yet I might preserve that further respect, that I am willing to use unto such a state, in delivering my opinion unto you freely before I would be of Counsel, or move any thing that should cross your proceedings; which, notwithstanding, (in case, my client, can receive no relief at your hands,) I must and will do.”3 So that above all things a man should take heed, if he can, of falling into the hands of a judge who is an enemy and victorious, of an occasion it is heard that John Colet’s monument hath been subdued to confl agration: this scholar and theologian died in 1519 and was rested at St. Paul’s in London. His coffi n hath been holed of where liquid spilled out; an extraordinary method in preservation of a corpse,4 for Livy doth relate, that there were found at a time two coffi ns of lead in a tomb; whereof the one contained the body of King Numa; it being some four hundred years after his death; and the other, his books of sacred rites and ceremonies, and the discipline of the pontiffs; and that in the coffi n that had the body, there was nothing at all to be seen, but a little light cinders about the sides; but in the coffi n that had the books, they were found as fresh as if they had been but newly written, being written in parchment, and covered over with watch-candles of wax three of four fold. By this it seemeth that the Romans in Numa’s time were not so good embalmers as the Egyptians;5 which was the cause that the body was utterly consumed. But I fi nd in Plutarch and others, that when August Cæsar visited the sepulchre of Alexander the Great in Alexandria, he found the body to keep his dimension; but withal, that notwithstanding all the embalming, which no doubt was the best, the body was so tender, as Cæsar, touching but the nose of it, defaced it. Which maketh me fi nd it very strange, that the Egyptian mummies should be reported to be as hard a stone-pitch; for I fi nd no difference but one, which indeed may be very material, namely that the ancient

3 Resuscitatio, 1657 4 Aubrey’s Brief Lives 5 Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictionary, 1881: EMBALM, v.i. To cheat vegetation by locking up the gases upon which it feeds. By embalming their dead and thereby deranging the natural balance between animal and vegetable life, the Egyptians made their once fertile and populous country barren and incapable of supporting more than a meagre crew Lochithea 351

Egyptian mummies were shrouded in a number of folds of linen, besmeared with gums, in manner of carecloth, which it doth not appear was practised upon the body of Alexander.6 What a winter’s tale riding on the tempest this very year. Ah for pittie, will ranke winter’s rage, these bitter blasts never ginne tasswage? The keen cold blows through my beaten hide, all as I were through the body gryde. My ragged rontes all shiver and shake, as does high towers in an earthquake: they wont in the wind wag their wriggled tails, perk as Peacock: but now it avails7 to a writ for Salisbury from London understanding that his Majesty will be pleased to sell some good portion of wood in the Forest of Dene which lieth very convenient to the company’s wireworks at Tynterne and Whitbrooke. I do not entreat his Lordship for any other or more easy price than that his Lordship directs the sale of it to other, only I humbly pray for some preferment in the opportunity of the place where the woods lie and in the quantity, as it may answer in some proportion to my wants. Much may be said on forests and much upon the baggage of death that come up at Robert Cecil in his one and ﬁ fty years: I publish in my updated version an essay entitled Of Deformity. He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind, stigmatical in making, worse in mind. Alas! I have an alarum in mine head: so doth deformity creep upon his Majesty, whereunto John Chamberlain to writ seals to the world how Bacon paints out his little cousin to the life.8

Francis Bacon Essay XLIV. Of Deformity. Deformed persons are commonly even with nature; for as nature hath done ill by them, so do they by nature; being for the most part (as the Scripture saith) void of natural affection; and so they have their revenge of nature. Certainly there is a consent between the body and the mind; and where nature erreth in the one, she ventureth in the other. Ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in altero. But because there is in man an election touching the frame of his mind, and a necessity in the frame of his body, the stars of natural inclination are sometimes obscured by the sun of discipline and virtue. Therefore it is good to consider of deformity, not as a sign, which is more deceivable; but as a cause, which seldom faileth of the effect. Whosoever hath any thing ﬁ xed in his person that doth induce contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in himself to rescue and deliver himself from scorn. Therefore all deformed persons are extreme bold. First, as in their own defence, as being exposed to scorn; but in process of time by a general habit. Also it stirreth in them industry, and

6 (a) Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century viii. (771) (b) Livy, xi. 29 7 Edmund Spenser: The Shepheardes Calender, 1579 8 King James I., was sickly having crippling arthritis, weak limbs, abdominal colic, gout, and a number of other chronic illnesses. He also had physical handicaps, which affected his legs and tongue. Coupled with numerous attempts on his life, he required constant attention and watch care; he could have possibly been offended by this work Of Deformity, sending Bacon to the rack, or the gallows. It could also mean that the King hardly read any of Bacon’s works. Bacon had commented on deformity much earlier in regards to Alfonso d’Este the fi fth Duke as being a “very deformed and crook-backed, well in years.” 352 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals especially of this kind, to watch and observe the weakness of others, that they may have somewhat to repay. Again, in their superiors, it quencheth jealousy towards them, as persons that they think they may at pleasure despise: and it layeth their competitors and emulators asleep; as never believing they should be in possibility of advancement, till they see them in possession. So that upon the matter, in a great wit, deformity is an advantage to rising. Kings in ancient times (and at this present in some countries) were wont to put great trust in eunuchs; because they that are envious towards all are more obnoxious and offi cious towards one. But yet their trust towards them hath rather been as to good spials and good whisperers, than good magistrates and offi cers. And much like is the reason of deformed persons. Still the ground is, they will, if they be of spirit, seek to free themselves from scorn; which must be either by virtue or malice; and therefore let it not be marvelled if sometimes they prove excellent persons; as was Agesilaus, Zanger the son of Solyman, Æsop, Gasca President of Peru; and Socrates may go likewise amongst them; with others.

I fi nish Descriptio Globi Intellectualis and Thema Coeli. There is a reprint of the ten essays Colours of Good and Evil, and Religious Meditations and by way of dedication a writ to the Lord Mountjoye:9 “I send you the last part of the best book of Aristotle of Stagira, who (as your Lordship knoweth) goeth for the best author. But (saving the civil respect which is due to a received estimation) the man being a Grecian and of hasty wit, having hardly a discerning patience, much less a teaching patience, hath so delivered the matter, as I am glad to do the part of a good house-hen, which without any strangeness will sit upon pheasants’ eggs. And yet perchance some that shall compare my lines with Aristotle’s lines, will muse by what art, or rather by what revelation, I could draw these conceits out of that place. But I, that should know best, do freely acknowledge that I had my light from him; for where he gave me not matter to perfect, at the least he gave me occasion to invent. Wherein as I do him right, being my self a man that am as free from envying the dead in contemplation, as from envying the living in action or fortune: so yet nevertheless still I say, and I speak it more largely than before, that in perusing the writings of this person so much celebrated, whether it were the impediment of his wit, or that he did it upon glory and affectation to be subtile, as one that if he had seen his own conceits clearly and perspicuously delivered, perhaps would have been out of love with them himself; or else upon policy to keep himself close, as one that had been a challenger of all the world, and had raised infi nite contradiction: to what cause soever it is to be ascribed, I do not fi nd him to deliver and unwrap himself well of that he seemeth to conceive, nor to be a master of his own knowledge. Neither do I for my part also, (though I have brought in a new manner of handling this argument to make it pleasant and lightsome,) pretend so to have overcome the nature of the subject, but that the full understanding and use of it will be somewhat dark, and best pleasing the tastes of such wits as are patient to stay the digesting and soluting unto themselves of that which is sharp and subtile. Which was the cause, joined with the love and honour which I bear to your Lordship, as the person I know to have many virtues and an excellent order of them, which moved me to dedicate

9 Spedding: Works, vol. xiii; original manuscript Harl. MSS. 6797. No. 6 Lochithea 353 this writing to your Lordship; after the ancient manner: choosing both a friend, and one to whom I conceive the argument was agreeable.” An immediate reprint of my enlarged essay edition of thirty-eight when I hear that Thomas Overbury dies in the Tower from a poisoned clyster. A letter I send to Coke war- ranting the subject to refuse gold lighter than the remedies expressed, which is no new device, but the same with 29th Eliz. I fi nd also Mr. Dubbleday to make it a thing diffi cult to name the pieces of more ancient coin than his Majesty’s, for which I have likewise send a clause. I writ to Lord Rochester to apply for the Court of Wards: this Mastership of the Wards is like a mist-sometimes it goeth upwards and sometimes it falleth downwards. If it go up to great Lords, then it is as it was at the fi rst, if it fall down to mean men, then it is as it was at the last if this place should go to a lawyer, and not to them, their hopes must diminish. The marriage of Princess Elizabeth to Prince Frederick, Elector Palatine is received with festivities that leave from the Middle Temple and Lincoln’s Inn, via Rolls, The Strand to Gray’s Inn and the Inner Temple: I am wont to be chief contriver of the Masque Marriage of the River Thames to the Rhine; we perform our part exceeding well, and with great applause and approbation, both from the King and all the company. Beaumont and Fletcher applaud me:10

To The Worthy Sir Francis Bacon, His Majesty’s Solicitor General; And The Grave And Learned Bench Of The Anciently-Allied Houses Of Gray’s Inn And The Inner Temple, The Inner Temple And Gray’s Inn Dedication You that spared no time nor travail in the setting forth, ordering, and furnishing of this Masque, (being the ﬁ rst fruits of honour in this kind, which these two Societies have offered to his Majesty), will not think much now to look back upon the effects of your own care and work; for that whereof the success was then doubtful, is now happily performed and graciously accepted; and that which you were then to think of in straits of time, you may now peruse at leisure. And you, Sir Francis Bacon, especially, as you did then advance it, so let your good word grace it and defend it, which is able to add value to the greatest and least matters. Beaumont and Fletcher

I come on horseback and open chariots; we make choice to come by water from Winchester place in Southwark, which suited well with our device and our shew by water very gallant by reason of inﬁ nite store of lights very curiously set and placed; and many

10 Mrs. Henry Pott: The Promus, 1883.: “… it should be remembered that the evidence strongly favours the belief that Beaumont (to whom the more cultivated and graceful diction of the joint compositions is attributed) derived such expressions from his superior and senior, Bacon; and this belief is strengthened by the assurance which we possess of Beaumont’s intimacy with an admiration of Bacon, to whom he dedicates one of his Masques.” 354 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals boats and barges with devices of light of lamps with three peals of ordnance, one at their taking water, another in the Temple garden, and the last at their landing; which passage by water cost us better than £300. We are received at the privy stairs; a great expectation there was that we should every way excel our competitors that went before us, both in devise, daintiness of apparel, and, above all, in dancing, wherein we are held excellent, and esteemed the properer men. But by what ill planet it fell out I know not; we cometh home as we went without doing any thing; the reason whereof I cannot yet learn thoroughly, but only that the Hall was so full that it was not possible to avoid it, or make room for them; besides that most of the Ladies were in the galleries to see us land, and could not get in. But the worst the King be so wearied and sleepy with sitting up almost two whole nights before, that he had no edge to it. Whereupon I venture to entreat his Majesty, that by this disgrace he would not as it were bury us quick; and I hear he answer, that then we must bury him quick, for he could last no longer; but withall giveth us very good words, and appoint us to come again. But the grace of the Masque is quite gone, when our apparel hath been already showed, and devises vented, so that how it will fall out God knows; for we are much discouraged and out of countenance, and the world sayeth it comes to pass after the old proverb, the properer men the worse luck. One thing I have almost forgotten for haste, that all this time there was a course taken and sanctiﬁ ed, that no Lady or Gentleman should be admitted to any of these sights with a vardingale, which was to gain more room, and I hope may serve to make them quite left off in time. And yet there were more scaffolds and more provision made for room than ever I saw, both in the Hall and Banqueting room, besides a new room built to dine, sup, and dance in. The next night the King invited the masquers with their assistants to the number of forty, to a solemn supper where we be well treated and much graced with kissing his Majesty’s hand.11 ’Tis I feeleth and doth like the ape that the higher he climbs the more he shews his ars. Some gravest of accident of late makes broiling betwixt the Scots and our nation: a gentleman usher, upon very small occasion, plucks or pinches one named Hawley, an acquaintance of Mr. Francis Osborne, who is a gentleman of the Temple, by the ear, at the feasting of the Duke of Bouillon, that the blood followed fastly; who, calling him to account for it the next day by a challenge, the matter comes to his Majesty’s notice, understanding that all the Inns of Court took alarum at the abuses, and begins to busily cause Hawley to be sent for. But he keeps out of the way, the King sends for the benchers of the Temple, where we are told, if the gentleman would come forth, and refer his cause to him, he would hear the matter himself, and do him all right and justice, and that he will not maintain any servant to do wrong; and this he willed us to tell the rest of our company, which was done at Lincoln’s Inn, by Mr. Attorney, and at Gray’s Inn by my self. But the gentleman absents himself still, and the Scottish men pluck in their horns, and are fain to absent themselves from plays and from the hither parts of the town, and keep close about Charing Cross; for that they ﬁ nd unruly youths apt to quarrel, and ready to offer ill measure.

11 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain letters, 1966 Lochithea 355

And, to mend the matter, a fencer, is suddenly slain with a pistol, as he is drinking with certain Scots belonging to the Lord Sanquhar, upon the old grudge of putting out his eyes in playing with him at Ricot. The fellow that did the deed got away, and is not yet heard of; and the Lord Sanquhar played least in sight for three or four days; but understanding that there was a proclamation coming forth for his apprehension, he rendered himself to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and stood much upon his innocence. His Majesty shewed his detestation of the fact, and promiseth £500 to whomsoever shall bring the Lord Sanquhar alive, and £300 dead; and £100 to him that should bring Carlisle, the murderer, alive, or £50 dead.12 My self amongst others: Sir Thomas Parry, Sir Julius Cæsar, Baron Sotherton, Sir George Carew, Sir George More, and Sir Walter Cope13 hath been commissioned to devise projects and means for money; it is of gossip amongst the world to think it a strange choice, since most of the noted commission is not better for husbanding and well governing of one’s own estate. It is further saith that God keep us from base courses wherein our speeches of that we harp most upon debasing of money. Come, let’s away, Reader, for Van Somer, the picture drawer, hath been paid 33∫ to draw me.

14 MEMORIAL OF HENRY PRINCE OF WALES Henry, eldest son of the King of Great Britain, late of blessed hope, now of happy memory, died on the 6th of November 1612. He died to the great grief and regret of the whole Kingdom, as being a youth who had neither offended men’s minds nor satiated them. The goodness of his disposition had awakened manifold hopes among numbers of all ranks, nor had he lived long enough to disappoint them. Moreover, as among the people generally he had the reputation of being ﬁ rm in the cause of religion; so the wider sort were deeply

12 Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 13 ibid., 14 Thomas Birch: Bacon’s Works, 1763 from a manuscript in the Harleian Collection (1893, of. 75.) Henry Frederick Stuart, Prince of Wales (1594–1612) was the eldest son of James VI., of Scotland, I., of England and Anne of Denmark. He was born at Stirling Castle and became Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles and Prince and Great Steward of Scotland automatically on his birth. His tutor until he went to England was Sir George Lauder of The Bass, a Privy Counsellor, described as the King’s “familiar Councillor” Following his father’s accession to the throne of England in 1603, he became automatically Duke of Cornwall, and was invested Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester in 1610, thus uniting the six automatic and two traditional Scottish and English titles held by heirs, apparent to the throne(s) ever since that date. Henry showed great promise, and his death from typhoid fever, the diagnosis can be made with reasonable certainty from written records of the post-mortem examination (an illness caused by the bacterium Salmonella Typhi transmitted by ingestion of food or water contaminated with feces from an infected person) at the age of eighteen was regarded as a tragedy for the nation. His titles were inherited by his younger brother, Charles, who until then had lived in Henry’s shadow. Henry was buried in Westminster Abbey—See The Bass Rock in History in Transactions of the East Lothian Antiquarian and Field Naturalists’ Society, vol. 5. p.55, 1948 356 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals impressed with the feeling that he had been to his father as a guard and shield against the machinations of conspirators,—a mischief for which our age has hardly found a remedy; so that the love of the people both for religion and for the King overfl owed upon him, and was rightly taken into account in estimating his loss. In body he was strong and erect, of middle height, his limbs gracefully put together, his gait kinglike, his face long and somewhat lean, his habit rather full, his countenance composed, and the motion of his eyes rather sedate than powerful. His forehead bore marks of severity; his mouth had a touch of pride. And yet when one penetrate beyond those outworks, and soothed him with due attention and seasonable discourse, one found him gentle and easy to deal with; so that he seemed quite another man in conversation than his aspect promised; and altogether he was one who might easily get himself a reputation at variance with his manners. Of praise and glory he was doubtless covetous; and was stirred with every show of good and every breath of honour: which in a young man goes of virtues. For both arms and military men were in honour with him; nor was he himself without something of a warlike spirit; he was given also to magnifi cence of works, though otherwise frugal enough of money; he was fond of antiquity and arts: and a favourer of learning, though rather in the honour he paid it than the time he spent upon it. In his morals there was nothing more to be praised than that in every kind of duty he seemed to be well trained and conformable. He was a wonderfully obedient son to the King his father, very attentive also to the Queen, kind to his brother; but his sister he specially loved; whom also he resembled in countenance, as far as a man’s face can be compared with that of a very beautiful girl. The master and tutors of his youth also (which rarely happens) continued in great favour with him, in discourse, as he exacted respect from others, so he observed it himself and fi nally in his daily way of life, and the assignation of several hours for its several duties, he was constant and regular above the habit of his years. He died in the nineteenth year of his age of a malignant fever, which-springing from the great heats and droughts, greater than islanders are accustomed to,—was very general among the people during the summer, though few died of it; but became towards autumn more fatal. Rumour, ever more malignant (as Tacitus says) upon the deaths of Princes, suggested poison. But as no symptoms of such a thing appears, especially in the stomach which is commonly most affected by poison, that report soon died away.15

15 “The rumour that Prince Henry died by poison, was revived during the trial of the murderers of Sir Thomas Overbury, and obtained for a while an importance which it did not deserve, from some dark word prematurely dropped by Sir Edward Coke. It seems that Franklin, the apothecary who was concerned in the poisoning of Overbury, ﬁ nding himself condemned to death, began to talk of certain dreadful disclosure which he could make if he liked; how more were to be poisoned than were yet known; how the Earl and Countess of Somerset had the most aspiring minds that ever were heard of; how the Earl never loved the Prince nor the Lady Elizabeth; how strange it was that the King kept an outlandish physician about his person and the person of the Prince deceased; “thereon” he said “lieth a long tale;” how he knew things he was ashamed to speak of; and lastly (to come to the point) how “he could make one discovery that should deserve his life: “with other things of the same kind-devices of a condemned man to put off the day of his handing.”—Spedding: Works, vol. xii. p. 11–13 Lochithea 357

Chamberlain Esq., commits thus his words to Sir Dudley: “The world is much dismayed at the loss of so beloved and likely a Prince on such a sudden, and the physicians are much blamed, though, no doubt, they did their best. But the greatest fault is laid on Turquet Mayerne,16 who was so forward to give him a purge the day after he sickened, and so dispersed the disease into all parts; whereas, if he had tarried till three of four ﬁ ts or days had been passed, they might the better have judged of the nature of it; or if, instead of purging, he had let him blood before it was so much corrupted, there had been more probability. These imputations lie hard upon him, and are the more urged, by reason of a hard censure set forth in print, not long since, by the physicians of Paris against him, wherein they call him temulentum, indoctum, temerarium, et indignum, with whom any learned physician should confer or communicate. It is verily thought that the disease was no other than the ordinary ague that hath reigned and raged almost all over England since the latter end of summer, which, by observation, is found must have its ordinary course, and the less physic the better, but only sweating, and an orderly course of keeping and government. The extremity of the disease seemed to lie in his head, for remedy whereof they shaved him, and applied warm cocks, and pigeons newly killed, but with no success.17 It was generally feared he had met with ill measure, and there wanted not suspicion of poison; but,

16 Sir Théodore Turquet de Mayerne (1573–1655): physician, MD 1597 Montpellier. His Paraclesian medical views were violently attacked by the College of Physicians in Paris, but found favour in England where in 1611 he was appointed physician to James I., and later to his son Charles I. He was one of the most famous physicians of his time, with a thriving practice among the elite, as can be seen by the intended recipients of his recipes in work-diaries. He publishes a treaty on insects, Theatrum Insectorum where the introduction is by himself but the true author of the treaty is unknown. Jean Petitot (1607–1691): Swiss miniature painter, with the help of his compatriot, the physician and chemist Théodore Turquet de Mayerne, he perfected the technique, using new colours, notably for the fl esh tones, and achieving an unprecedented virtuosity in his attempts to emulate the brilliance of Baroque portraiture. It was probably Charles I., himself who set him to copy in miniature the portraits of the Royal Family by Anthony van Dyck. Three of these, dated 1638, survive: Charles I, Charles II., when Prince of Wales (both Welbeck Abbey, Notts) and Queen Henrietta Maria (The Hague, Willem V Mus.). All are of astonishing fi nesse and delicacy of tonal nuance. It was at the English Court that Petitot met Jacques Bordier (1616–84), who became his collaborator and is generally reputed to have painted the hair, draperies and backgrounds of his miniatures, while Petitot himself concentrated on the demanding areas of the face and hands—Wikimedia Org 17 (a) Thomas Birch: “What success could have been expected from such ridiculous remedies?” (b) Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, century i (96): “Likewise pigeons bleeding, applied to the soles of the feet, ease the head; and soporiferous medicines applied unto them, provoke sleep.” Spedding comments further on the unusual remedies of the times: “I do not know what Bacon would have thought of the story told of the Emperor Frederick II. An old commentator of Dante affi rms that, in order to prove the non-existence of the soul, the emperor enclosed a criminal in a chest, and kept him there until death took place. The chest being opened, he asked those whom he wished to refute what had become of the soul; but received quite as good an answer as the question deserved, namely, that it had escaped by the same route as the cries which, for some time after being shut in, the unhappy man had been heard to utter.” 358 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals upon the opening of him, the next day toward night, there was nothing found.18 His heart was found good, his stomach clean, his liver a little perished, his lungs somewhat more, and spotted; his gall was clean gone, and nothing in it; his spleen very black, his head full of clear water, and all the veins of the head full of clotted blood.”19 So of histories we may fi nd three kinds: memorials, perfect histories, and antiquities; for memorials are history unfi nished, or the fi rst or rough drafts of history; and antiquities are history defaced, or some remnants of history which have casually escaped the shipwreck of time. O Death, paint my face and not fl y forth my copy of Essays and letter of dedication to the little angel Prince:

To The Most High And Excellent Prince, Henry Prince Of Wales, Duke Of Cornwall, And Earl Of Chester.20 It may please your Highness, having divided my life into the contemplative, and active part, I am desirous to give his Majesty, and your Highness, of the fruits of both, simple though they be. To write just treatise, requireth leisure in the writer, and leisure in the reader, and therefore are not so fi t, neither in regard of your Highnesses princely affairs, nor in regard of my continual service; which is the cause, that hath made me choose to write certain brief notes, set down rather signifi cantly, than curiously, which I have called essays. The word is late, but the thing is ancient, for Senecaes epistles to Lucilius, if you mark them well, are but essays, that is, dispersed meditations, though conveyed in the form of epistles. These labours of mine, I know, cannot be worthy of your Highness, for what can be worthy of you? But my hope is, they may be as grains of salt that will rather give you an appetite, than offend you with satiety. And although they handle those things wherein both men’s lives, and their persons are most conversant, yet what I have attained I know not; but I have endeavoured to make them not vulgar, but of a nature, whereof a man shall fi nd much in experience, and little in books; so as they are neither repetitions nor fancies. But however, I shall most humbly desire your Highness to accept them in gracious part, and to conceive that if I cannot rest, but must shew my dutiful and devoted affection to your Highness in these things which proceed from my self, I shall be much more ready

18 Birch concludes in a footnote: “There is nothing conclusive in this: for, in the ﬁ rst place, there were poisons which left no trace of their presence; and, in the next, if the effects of poison had been visible, the physicians would have been afraid to say so. The unusual course of having a post mortem examination of the Prince shows that the suspicion of foul play must have been very strong at that time; and the more the matter has been looked into since, the more decided has been this impression. Indeed, more that one writer has ventured to assert, that the atrocious crime was perpetrated with the connivance of the King, whose notorious jealousy of the popular young Prince at this period, and foolish fondness for his younger brother Charles, induced a wretch well known to have been guilty of similar practices—the King’s favourite, Viscount Rochester—to cause the Prince to be secretly put out of the way.” 19 “It is accounted an evident sign of poison (especially of that kind which operates by malig- nancy, not by corrosion) if the face or body be swollen.”—Francis Bacon: The History of Life and Death 20 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 Lochithea 359 to do it in performance of any or your Princely commandments. And so wishing your Highness all Princely felicity, I rest. Your Highnesses most humble servant. Fra. Bacon.

Funerall Elegie By Thomas Heywood21 Therefore what my Pen scans him in his merit, With mine own inward Passions I’ll supply. More then an Earthly Prince, he’s now a Spirit, Thron’d in a Kingdome, unto which the Sky Is but a Foot-pace, ever there to inherit, Beyond all Time, to all eternity. Where I lament not He is Thron’d and plac’t, I only grieve that He hath made such haste.

SONETT By King James I., to Prince, Henry Prince Of Wales [British Museum, MS. Reg. 18 B. xv.] Loe heir my Son a mirror viue and fair Quhilk schawis the schadow of a vorthie King; Loe heir a booke, a paterne dois zow bring Quhilk ze sould preas to follow mair and mair. This trustie freind the treuthe will never spair, Bot give a guid advyse unto zow heir. How it sould be zour chief and princelie cair To follow vertew, vyce for to forbeare: And in the booke zour Lesson vill ze leire For gyding of zour people great and small; Than, as ze aucht, gif ane attentive care And paus how ze thir preceptis practise sall: Zour father biddis zow studie heir and reid How to become a perfyte King indeid.

21 Thomas Heywood (1574–1641) English actor-playwright whose career spans the peak periods of Elizabethan and Jacobean drama. Heywood apparently attended the University of Cambridge, though his attendance there remains undocumented. After arriving in London sometime before 1598, he joined Philip Henslowe’s theatrical company, the Admiral’s Men, and was subsequently active in London as a playwright and actor for the rest of his life. He claimed to have had “either an entire hand, or at least a main ﬁ nger” in 220 plays. Of these, 24 survive that are generally accepted as wholly or partly his—Encyclopædia Britannica 360 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Matthew Bacon, scrivener of Gray’s Inn, in the county of Middlesex, inscribes a deed under my guidance, for purchase of property within Black-Friars, to one Shakspere from Henry Walker at the amount of £140, “and also all that plot of ground on the west side of the same tenement, which was lately enclosed with boards, on two sides thereof, by Anne Bacon, widow, so far and in such sort as the same was enclosed by the said Anne Bacon and not otherwise.” I strongly abate any purchaser of the land, to touch a small plot of ground that belongeth to mother; the framed particulars brought good countenance.22 To shake another tree: my man John tells me of our poet Henry Constable that leaveth us, and elsewhere of a foul duel witnessed betwixt one Hutchinson of Gray’s Inn and one Sir Jermyn Poole: the later advanced on Hutchinson who lost two of his ﬁ ngers; but revenged himself by sword; then ﬂ ew upon Poole with teeth and fury biting off the man’s nose to carry away in his pocket.23 Repair me with thy furtherance Reader, for Henry Peacham, Mr. of Artes, hath published his Minerva Britanna, a garden of heroical devices, furnished, and adorned with Emblemes; his thirty-four embleme:

Ex malis moribus bonæ leges To the most judicious, and learned, Sir Francis Bacon, Knight. The Viper here, that stung the sheepheard swaine, (While careles of himselfe asleepe he lay,) With Hysope caught, is cut by him in twaine, Her fat might take, the poison quite away, And heale his wound, that wonder tis to see, Such soveraigne helpe, should in a Serpent be. By this same Leach, is meant the virtuous King, Who can with cunning, out of manners ill, Make wholesome lawes, and take away the sting, Wherewith foule vice, doth greeve the virtuous still: Or can prevent, by quicke and wise foresight, Infection ere, it gathers further might. Afra venenato pupugit quem vipera morsu, Dux Gregis antidotum læsus ab hoste petit: Vipereis itidem leges ex moribus aptas Doctus Apollinea conﬁ cit arte SOLON. Henry Peacham, 1612

22 (a) Halliwell-Phellipps’ Outlines of the life of Shakespeare (b) Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 23 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain letters, 1966 Lochithea 361

Poem 24 By Henry Constable Delight in your bright eyes my death did breed, As light and glittering weapons babes allure To play with ﬁ re and sword, and so procure Then to be burnt and hurt ere they take heed, Thy beauty so hath made me burn and bleed; Yet shall my ashes and my blood assure Thy beauty’s fame forever to endure; For thy fame’s life from my death doth proceed; Because my heart to ashes burned giveth Life to thy fame, thou right a phœnix art, And like a pelican thy beauty liveth By sucking blood out of my breast and heart. Lo why with wonder we may thee compare Unto the pelican and phœnix rare!

The Globe Theatre sadly burns down whilst it performs All is True.25 Sir Henry Wotton accounts the incident to his nephew, Edmund Bacon: “I will entertain you at the present with what hath happened this week at the Bankside. The King’s players had a new play called All is True, representing some principal pieces of the reign of Henry VIII., which was set forth with many extraordinary circumstances of pomp and majesty, even to the matting of the stage; the Knights of the Order, with their Georges and Garter, the Guards with their embroidered coats and the like, suffi cient in truth within a while to make greatness very familiar, if not ridiculous. Now, King Henry making a Masque at the Cardinal Wolsey’s house, and certain chambers being shot off at his entry, some of the paper of other stuff wherewith one of them was stopped did light on the thatch, where being thought at fi rst but an idle smoke, and their eyes more attentive to the show, it kindled inwardly and ran round like a train, consuming within less than an hour the whole house to the very grounds. This was the fatal period of that virtuous fabric, wherein yet nothing did perish but wood and straw and a few forsaken cloaks; only one man had his breeches set on fi re, that would perhaps have broiled him if he had not by the benefi t of a provident wit put it out with bottle ale.”26 ’Tis Thomas Lorkin whom also gives an account of the fi re to Sir Thomas Puckering: “No longer since than yesterday, while Bourbage, his company, were acting at the Globe

24 Samuel Daniel & Henry Constable: Elizabethan Sonnet-Cycles; Delia—Diana, 1896 25 Henry VIII., fi rst published in the First Folio 1623 not unanimously thought that Shakespeare collaborated in the composition with John Fletcher (1579–1625). It has been rumoured by some Shakespearean biographers that in the fi re of the Globe Theatre it is supposed were consumed Shakespeare’s manuscripts of his plays—See Charles Dudley Warner’s The People For Whom Shakespeare Wrote 26 For more of this account, see Stanley Wells’ A Dictionary of Shakespeare, 1998 362 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals tile play of Henry VIII., and there shooting of certain chambers in way of triumph, the fi re catched.” ’Tis no wonder, says one of the Ancients, that chance has great a dominion over us, since it is by chance we live. I could wish that fewer would attempt chance as doth Edward Coke, Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, for he is created Chief Justice of the Royal Bench. Of the next, with the regeneration of Ulster, hopefully I have some helping hand in the matter, I am appointed Attorney General: Coke is called up into the King’s Bench and there sworn Chief Justice; he parteth dolefully from the Common Place, not only weeping himself but follows with the tears of all that Bench and most of the offi cers of that Court. The next day Sir Hobart is made Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, I, Attorney and Yelverton Solicitor. There is strong apprehension that little good is to be expected by this change, and that I may prove a dangerous instrument. Such are the minds of men when a major disturbance breaks at Gray’s Inn: a duel of which John Chamberlain forwards a brief account: “Two gentlemen, Skenington and Bray, having a suit one against the other in Chancery, met by mischance in Gray’s Inn Court, and upon the fi rst encounter were both slain, and died at one instant upon the place.” Much more cometh from duelling: a fellow under my serve is arraigned at the King’s Bench for killing a Scot; and, being found guilty of manslaughter, is burnt in the hand. The matter is eagerly pursued and brought out of the country to be tried, for fear of partiality, and has a very suffi cient and extraordinary jury. Yet all are not satisfi ed that they found so much, the fellow being assaulted by two, the one before and the other behind, and being dangerously hurt at least in four places.27 I am in need of urgency to touch the matter of duels in Court, but not yet; before the year is over, a reprint of my enlarged edition of essays is circulating. Dudley Carleton, with good heart, requests a copy to be forwarded to him in Venice. John Chamberlain sends him all new books of English alma- nacs, whereof they have a great miss abroad.28 Robert Carr, The Earl of Somerset,29 weds Lady Essex. Presents are showered upon him. I offer on my part to prepare the Masque Of Flowers to honour this marriage, which will stand me in above £2.000; and though I had been offered some help by the House, and especially by Mr. Solicitor, Sir Henry Yelverton, who would have sent me £500, I accept not, but offer the whole charge with the honour.30

27 Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 28 See Maurice Lee Jr.: Dudley Carleton to John Chamberlain, 1972 29 (1590–1645) Carr also spelled Ker, also called (1607–11) Sir Robert Carr, or (1611–13) Viscount Rochester favourite of King James I., of England from 1607 to 1615. His inﬂ uence on governmental policy was slight, but he brought discredit on James’s Court by his involvement in a scandal. Son of a Scottish nobleman, the handsome Carr ﬁ rst attracted James’s interest in 1607. The King soon made him a gentleman of the bedchamber, and thereafter he rose rapidly in royal favour, becoming Viscount Rochester in 1611 and a Privy Councillor in April 1612. Upon the death of the chief minister, Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, in May 1612, Carr began to serve as James’s secretary—Encyclopædia Britannica 30 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain letters, 1966 Lochithea 363

It was the noble manner to follow for such a marriage, as my obligations are such, as well to his Majesty as to the great Lord and to the whole House of Howards, as I can admit no partner. The Masque is published shortly after with the following dedication to my being: “You have graced in general the Societies of the Inns of Court; in doing the King honour, and particularly Gray’s Inn, which as you have already brought to fl ourish, both in the ancienter and younger sort, by countenancing virtue in every quality. You have made a notable demonstration in the lighter and less serious kind by one Inn of Court by itself, in time of vacation, the space of three weeks, which could not have been done but that every man’s exceeding love and respect to you gave him wings to overtake time.” The remaining of this event I light the match for old John Chamberlain’s candle: “In the meantime Bacon’s house and land at Gorhambury is gone some say to the Earl of Somerset others to the Earl of Suffolk; but he feasts the whole University of Cambridge this Christmas, and hath warrants to his friends and acquaintance far and near to furnish him with venison to bestow on the Colleges. He carries a great port in his train, as well as in his apparel and otherwise, and lives at a great charge, and yet he pretends he will take no fees, nor inter- meddle in mercenary causes, but wholly apply himself to the King’s affairs.”31 ’Tis by troth I swell my days at Verulam House with my man Hunt, my spider web servant: for the world was made for man, Hunt, and not man for the world. My orders pass down to the other servants by Hunt to keep their feet within Spanish leather boots; for the smell of the neats’ leather doth offend me;32 Hunt told of how once, the East India merchants had arrived and did present me with a cabinet of jewels; that I was not present, my page, Cockaine, did receive this; but did deceive his master for I knew not of this account before Hunt’s account; a few servants, who keep their coaches and race-horses, are reprimanded by Hunt on their jesty debts; ’tis of another good servant, Thomas Bushell, who delights me in organizing my musical sounds from another chamber of where I scribble and recall his Majesty: If ye would write worthily, choose subjects worthy of you, that be not full of vanity, but of virtue; eschewing obscurity, and delighting ever to be plain and sensible. And if ye write in verse, remember that it is not the principal part of a poem to rhyme right, and fl ow well with many pretty words: but the chisel commendation of a poem is, that when the verse shall be shaken sundry in prose, it shall be found so rich in quick inventions, and poetic fl owers, and in fair and pertinent comparisons; as it shall retain the lustre of a poem, although in prose.33 I must but conclude that our poet, Philip Massinger,34 pains to be liberated from censure of his works:

31 (a) See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain letters, 1966 (b) Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 32 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms New and Old.: “Sackford, Master of the Requests to Queen Elizabeth, had divers times moved for audience, and been put off. At last he came to the Queen in a progress, and had on a new pair of boots. When he came in, the Queen said to him, Fie sloven, thy new boots stink. Madam, (said he,) it is not my new boots that stink, but it is the stale bills that I have kept so long.” 33 James Doelman: The accession of King James I and English religious poetry 34 (a) Isaac Disraeli: Curiosities of Literature, vol. ii; (b) John W. Cousin: A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature.: Philip Massinger (1583–1640) dramatist. He was found dead in bed on March 16, 1640, and was buried in St. Saviour’s, Southwark, by some of the actors. The 364 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

To The Right Honourable, And My Especial Good Lord, Iohn Lord Mohune, Baron Of Okehampton, &C. My good Lord. Let my presumption in stilling you so (having never desired it in my service) from the clemency of your noble disposition fi nd pardon. The reverence due to the name of Mohune, long since honoured in three Earls of Sommerset, and eight Barons of Munster, may challenge from all pens a desired celebration. And the rather in respect those titles were not purchased, but conferred, and continued in your ancestors, for many virtuous, noble, and still living actions; nor ever forfeited, or tainted, but when the iniquity of those times laboured the depression of approved goodness, and in wicked policy held it fi t that loyalty, and faith, in taking part with the true Prince, should be degraded, and mulcted. But this admitting no farther dilation in this place may your Lordship please, and with all possible brevity to understand, the reasons why I am in humble thankfulness ambitious to shelter this poem under the wings of your honourable protection. My worthy friend Mr Aston Cokaine your Nephew, to my extraordinary content, delivered to me, that your Lordship at your vacant hours sometimes vouchsafed to peruse such trifl es of mine, as have passed the press, and not alone warranted them in your gentle suffrage, but disdained not to bestow a remembrance of your love, and intended favour to me. I profess to the world, I was exalted with the bounty, and with good assurance, it being so rare in this age to meet with one noble name, that in fear to be censured of levity, and weaknesses, dares express it self, a friend, or patron to contemned poetry. Having therefore no means else left me to witness the obligation, in which I stand most willingly bound to your Lordship, I offer this Tragæ Comœdie to your gracious acceptance, no way despairing, but that with a clear aspect, you will daine to receive it (it being an induction to my future endeavours) and that in the list of those, that to your merit truly admire you, you may descend to number. Your Lordship’s faithful honourer. Philip Massinger.

The glory of God is to conceal a thing, but the glory of the King is to ﬁ nd it out, as Salomon so saith; as if according to the innocent play of children, the divine Majesty taketh delight to hide his works, to the end to have them found out; and as if Kings could not obtain a greater honour than to be God’s playfellows in that game.35 How surviveth that Rex fuit Elizabeth, nunc est regina Jacobus; [Elizabeth was King, now James is Queen;]36

burial register has an entry: “Buried Philip Massinger, a stranger.” He is believed to have joined with Fletcher and Shakespeare in Henry VIII., and The Two Noble Kinsmen 35 George MacDonald: A Dish Of Orts, 1893 36 Extract from Francis Osborne’s memoir: “The love the King showed men was amorously conveyed as if he had mistaken their sex and thought them ladies, which I have seen Somerset and Buckingham labour to resemble in the effeminateness of their dressings; though in whorish looks and wanton gestures they exceeded any part of womankind my conversation did ever cope withal. Nor was his love, or whatever posterity will please to call it, carried on with a discretion sufﬁ cient to cover a less scandalous behaviour; for the King’s kissing them after so lascivious a mode in public, and upon the theater, as it were, of the world, prompted many to imagine some things done in the tiring house that exceed my expressions no less than they do my experience, Lochithea 365

Poem By Francis Bacon37 The world’s a bubble, and the life of man less than a span; In his conception wretched, from the womb so to the tomb: Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years with cares and fears. Who then to frail mortality shall trust, but limns in water, or but writes in dust. Yet since with sorrow here we live opprest, what life is best? Courts are but only superﬁ cial schools to dandle fools. The rural parts are turned into a den of savage men. And where’s the city from all vice so free, But may be term’d the worst of all the three? Domestic cares afﬂ ict the husband’s bed, or pains his head. Those that live single take it for a curse, or do things worse. Some would have children; those that have them moan, or wish them gone. What is it then to have or have no wife, But single thraldom, or a double strife? Our own affections still at home to please is a disease: To cross the sea to any foreign soil perils and toil. Wars with their noise affright us: when they cease, we are worse in peace. What then remains, but that we still should cry Not to be born, or being born to die.

and therefore left them upon the waves of conjecture, which hath in my hearing tossed them from one side to another.” A diary entry by D’Ewes: “I discoursed with him of the things that were secret, as of the sin of sodomy, how frequent it was in the wicked city (London), and if God did not provide some wonderful blessing against it, we could not but expect some horrible punishment for it; especially it being, as we had probable cause to fear, a sin in the Prince as well as the people, which God is for the most part chastiser of himself, because no man else indeed dare reprove or tell them of their faults.” 37 (a) Spedding: Works, vol. xiv. p. 117–118. (b) Aubrey’s Brief Lives: “His Lordship was a good poet, but conceal’d, as appears by his Letters,” of where Aubrey then adds the poem 366 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Poor Bushell! He hath just returned from Buxton and from the old man who sells beesoms: “Your Grace, I am whipped! The old fool saith “Friend! Hast thou no money? Borrow of thy back, and borrow of thy belly; they’ll ne’re ask thee again, I shall be dun- ning thee every day.” Bushell’s cheeks redden. I cannot but laugh at this old man’s advice, for the smallest hair casts a shadow; for mought man saith that it raineth, whereunto he durst but urinate.38 And it were shame that men should have examined so carefully the tinklings of their own voice, and should yet be so ignorant of the voice of nature; and as in the early ages (before letters were invented), should discern only compound sounds and words, not distinguishing the elements and letters. Meantime, Bushell much calmed, brings a bowl to bathe my feet as he doth once a month, with Lie ex Sale nigro, Camomile, sweet Marjoram, Fennel, Sage, and a little aqua vītae.39 Man so knit a rope of sand: should I be judged at these times a Παιδερεστής [lover of boys] then so be it; methink Æsop was a wise man; that described the nature of the fl y, that sat upon the spoke, of the chariot wheel, and said to her self; what a dust do I raise? So, for my part, I think, that all this dust is raised, by light rumours, and buzzes and not upon any solid ground.40 Upon my constant fall from the Courts, my servants fl ee: I compare them to the fl ying of the Vermin when the house is falling. O! What a miserable thing ’tis to be hurt by such a one of whom ’tis in vain to complain.41 But to continue, I walketh amongst the main architecture of Verulam House laid by my self, rightly handed by Dobson, Master of the Alienation Offi ce. The house stands on £10.000 of beauty: excellent chimneys; all rooms with lofty walls and well wainscoted with many seats around. To the top: well leaded of which are prospects to the ponds on the opposite to the east of the house of winding paths arched by the trees of Irish stitch. The main section taketh a delicate staircase of wood, carved and on posts of pretty fi gures as a grave Divine with his book and spectacles, a Mendicant Friar; never one thing seen twice. To the upper storey; doors of dark umber with fi gures of the gods of the Gentiles; to the second storey, south door, is Apollo; on another Jupiter with his thunderbolt; bigger than life with excellent craft; the heightening hatched with so when the sun shineth on them they make a most glorious exhibit. The upper section, of the east side, is a large looking-glass, of where I hath many a time entailed in trickery to the visitor; for when Hunt sheweth the arriver into the area, and ponders upon the sights of the ponds and walks which the door faced, on the return into the room there is illusion of fi rst glance; the refl ection of the same sight through looking-glass. A mile away, one arriveth at Gorhambury through three roads enough for three coaches to pass abreast; midway, the right hill side faces the passer by where stately trees of growth and height on greens. An addition of a noble portico is attached to the front gardens of the south; opposite this portico, an arch of watercolours,

38 Japanese proverb 39 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 40 See Resuscitatio, 1657 p. 40 on Francis Bacon’s speech when the House was troubled about undertakers 41 Francis Bacon: Touching Medical Matters, published 1679 Lochithea 367 curious pictures, all emblematical, with motto’s under each. Under the portico stands the gallery; glass windows all painted; every pane with several fi gures of beast, bird, fl ower; the windows look into the gardens; the opposite walls decorated with portraits of King James I., of my self and other illustrious persons. To the end of the gallery, no window by a large painting: in the middle on a rock in the sea stands King James in armour with his regal ornaments; on his right hand stands King Henry IV., of France, in armour; and on his left, King of Spain, in like manner. To the roof of the gallery, cylindrical, painted by the same manner: heads and busts of Greek and Roman emperors and heroes. The ancient hall, of great width, offers a well-painted manifest of the gods of feasts in honour of Mars who is caught in a net by Vulcan. On the wall, above the chimney, is painted an oak with acorns falling from it; the wall over the table is painted ceres teaching the sowing of corn with the Bacon family second motto: Moniti meliora. The large garden, swathed with a door in golden letters on blue six verses, opens into oak wood: the west part is of coppice wood; the paths broad enough for a coach, a quarter of a mile long. A garden42 much spent in upon meditation with Bushell, quill and paper. Many a time as these, I may do well to advise Bushell upon his debts: a master of running into debt. His sweet tongue draweth for his bait rich gents and knaves in the country upon his projects that would no less than sooner have him thrown into prison. To continue, for to the east, the ponds are of images of fi sh; the bottoms with rainbow coloured pebbles; a coin for those who bringeth coloured pebbles to throw into the ponds. In the middle of these ponds, an island, where a banqueting house of Roman architecture stands, paved with black and white marble, covered with Cornish slat and neatly wainscoted.

42 John Evelyn (1620–1706): Sylva, vol. i: “So as I am persuaded, that with very ordinary industry, they might be propagated to the incredible ornament of the walks and avenues to great-men’s houses. The introduction of this true plane among us, is, perhaps due to the great Lord Chancellor Bacon, who planted those (still fl ourishing ones) at Verulam; not to omit that political use, as my Lord Bacon hints it, where he speaks of the statues and monuments of brave men, and such as had well deserv’d of the public, erected by the Romans even in their highways; since doubtless, such noble and agreeable objects would exceedingly divert, entertain, and take off the minds and discourses of melancholy people, and pensive travellers, who having nothing but the dull and enclosed ways to cast their eyes on, are but ill conversation to themselves, and others, and instead of celebrating, censure their superiors. It is by a curious person, and industrious friend of mine, observ’d, that the sap of this tree rises and descends with the sun’s diurnal course (which it visibly slackens in the night) and more plentifully at the root on the south side, though those roots cut on the north were larger, and less distant from the body of the tree; and not only distill’d from the ends, which were next the stem, but from those which were cut off and separated, which was never observ’d to happen in the birch, or other sap-yielding trees.” Evelyn, an English country gentleman, author of some 30 books on the fi ne arts, forestry, and religious topics. His Diary, kept all his life, is considered an invaluable source of information on the social, cultural, religious, and political life of 17th-century England. His Diary, begun when he was 11 years old and fi rst published in 1818 (ed. E.S. de Beer, 6 vol., 1955), was written for himself alone but with relatively little about himself in it. It ranges from bald memoranda to elaborate set pieces. With its descriptions of places and events, characters of contemporaries, and many reports of sermons, it bears witness to more than 50 years of English life and, as such, is of great historical value—Encyclopædia Britannica 368 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

And so Gorhambury stands through my oblation, wherefore, representing your Reader many times into my mind did viva voce of this “most ingeniously contrived little pile.”43 What contrivance, what tools, what levers, what engines, what workmen, were employed about so stupendous a work! Irish masquers are well liked at Court, that they are appointed to perform again; yet their device, which is a mimical imitation of the Irish, is not pleasing to many, who think it no time, as the case stands, to exasperate that nation, by making it ridiculous.44 Of other plays, are performed almost each night, both holidays and working days, wherein they show great poorness, that instead of delight, they send the auditory away with discontent. Indeed, our poets’ brains and inventions are grown very dry, insomuch that of fi ve new plays there is not one pleases, and therefore they are driven to furbish over their old, which stand them in best stead, and bring them most profi t.45 His Majesty and Prince lay at Trinity College, where plays are represented, and the hall so well ordered for room, that above two thousand persons are conveniently placed. The fi rst night’s entertainment is a comedy, made and acted by St. John’s men, the chief part consisting of a counterfeit Sir Edward Radcliffe, a foolish doctor of physic, which proveth by a lean argument; and though it were larded with pretty shows at the beginning and end, and with somewhat too broad speech for such a presence, yet it is still dry. The second night, is a comedy of Clare Hall, with the help of two or three good actors from other houses, wherein David Drummond, on a hobby-horse, and Brakin, the recorder of the town, under the name of Ignoramus, a common lawyer, bore great parts. The thing is full of mirth and variety, with many excellent actors; among whom the Lord Compton’s son, though least, yet was not worst, but more than half marred by extreme length. The third night is an English comedy, called Albumazar, of Trinity College’s action and invention, taken from an Italian comedy, but there is no great matter in it more than on the good clown’s part. Of the last night is a Latin pastoral of the same houses, excellently well written, and is well acted, which gives great contentment, as well to the King as to all the rest. The philosophy act make amends, and indeed, is excellent insomuch that the Bishop of Ely sends the moderator, the answerer, the varier, or prevaricator, and one of the repliers, that are all of his house of Pembroke Hall, twenty angels a-piece.46

43 “Thomas Bushell (1594–1674) at his house in Lambeth Place, the Gallery would be enveloped in black with skulls and bones painted on the walls; over his bed hung black curtains secured by four cords covered with “black-bayes instead of bed postes.” The Queen Mother had visited the King at Oxon; she offered Bushell a mummy from Egypt, which “long ere this time the dampnesse of the place haz spoyled it with mouldinesse.”—Aubrey’s Brief Lives 44 Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848: “Ben Jonson’s The Irish Masque, written throughout in a wretched gibberish, a very puerile production, unworthy of his talent.” 45 In a footnote, Birch comments on this as an effect to the fact that “Shakespeare had retired to Stratford, but his plays were acted as frequently as possible.”—Ibid., 46 Ibid., Lochithea 369

Now to speak of duels: many tongues wag of a long proclamation ’gainst challenges and duels be of a “higher hand”;47 I speak big and publish his Majesty’s straight chart to me, and am struck blind, as in point of dual and cartel, &c. I should not know a coronet from a hatband. I am bold also to declare how excellently his Majesty expressed to me a contemplation of his touching duels; that is, that when he came forth and saw himself princely attended with goodly nobleness and gentlemen, he entered into the thought, that none of their lives were in certainty not for twenty four hours from the duel; for it is a hear or mistaking, and then a lie, and then a challenge, and then life: saying that I did not marvel seeing Xerxes shed tears to think none of his great army should be alive once within a hundred years, his Majesty be touched with compassion to think that not one of his attendance but mought be dead within twenty four hours by the duel.48 It is of my commitment that this bulk taketh form to print and of an extract I give below:

My Lords. I thought it fi t for my place, and for these times, to bring to hearing before your Lordships some cause touching private duels, to see if this Court can do any good to tame and reclaim that evil which seems unbridled. And I could have wished that I had met with some greater persons, as a subject for your censure, both because it had been more worthy of this presence, and also the better to have shewed the resolution myself hath to proceed without respect of persons in this business. But fi nding this cause on foot in my predecessor’s time, and published and ready for hearing, I thought to lose not time, in a mischief that groweth every day; and besides it passeth not amiss sometimes in government, that the greater sort be admonished by an example made in the meaner, and the dog to be beaten before the lion. Nay I should think that men of birth and quality will leave the practice, when it begins to be vilifi ed, and come so low as to barbers, surgeons and butchers, and such base mechanical persons. And for the greatness of this presence, in which I take much comfort, both as I consider it in itself, and much more in respect to is by his Majesty’s direction, I will supply the meanness of the particular cause, by handling of the general point; to the end that by occasion of this present cause, both my purpose of prosecution against duels and the opinion of the Court (without which I am nothing) for the censure of them may appear, and thereby offenders in that kind may red their own case, and know what they are to expect; which may serve for a warning until example may be made in some greater person, which I doubt the times will but too soon afford. Therefore before I come to the particular whereof your Lordships are not to judge, I think it time best spent to speak somewhat: First, of the nature and greatness of this mischief, secondly, of the causes and remedies, thirdly, of the justice of the law of England, which some stick not to think defective in this matter, fourthly, of the capacity of this Court,

47 It was believed that the proclamation against challenges and duels was written by King James I., and wrongly attributed to Lord Bacon—See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966; entry 193, dated February 17, 1614, p. 130 48 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 370 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals where certainly the remedy of this mischief is best to be found, and fi fthly, touching mine own purpose and resolution, wherein I shall humbly crave your Lordships’ aid and assistance. For the mischief itself, it may please your Lordships to take into your consideration that when revenge is one extorted out of the magistrate’s hand contrary to God’s ordinance, Mihi vindicta, ego retribaum, and every man shall bear the sword not to defend but to assail, and private men begin once to presume to give law to themselves, and to right their own wrongs, no man can foresee the dangers and inconveniences that may arise and multiply thereupon. It may cause sudden storms in Court, to the disturbance of his Majesty, and unsafety of his person. It may grow from quarrels to banding, and from banding to trooping, and so to tumult and commotion, from particular persons to dissension of families and alliances, yea to national quarrels, according to the infi nite variety of accidents, which fall not under foresight: so that the state by this means shall be like to a distempered and unperfect body, continually subject to infl ammations and convulsions. Besides, certainly both in divinity and in policy, offences of presumption are the greatest. Other offences yield and consent to the law that it is good, not daring to make defence, or to justify themselves; but this offence expressly give the law an affront, as if there were two laws, one a kind of gown-law, and the other a law of reputation, as they term it; so that Paul’s and Westminster, the pulpit and Courts of justice, must give place to the law (as the King speaketh in his proclamation) of ordinary tables, and such reverend assemblies; the year-books and stature-books must give place to some French and Italian pamphlets, which handle the doctrine of duels, which if they be in the right, transeamus ad illa, let’s receive them, and not keep the people in confl ict and distraction between two laws. Again it is a miserable effect, when young men full of towardness and hope, such as the poets call Aurorae fi lii, sons of the morning, in whom the expectation and comfort of their friends consisteth, shall be cast away and destroyed in such a vain manner. But much more it is to be deplored when so much noble and gentle blood shall be spilt upon such follies, as, if it were adventured in the fi eld in service of the King and Realm, were able to make the fortune of a day, and to change the fortune of a Kingdom. So as your Lordships see what a desperate evil this is; it troubleth peace, it disfurnisheth war, it bringeth calamity upon private men, peril upon the state, and contempt upon the law. Touching the causes of it; the fi rst motive no doubt is a false and erroneous imagination of honour and credit; and therefore the King, in his last proclamation, doth most amply and excellently call them “bewitching duels.”

* I have no other passion to keep me in breath but of representing Ipswich in the House of Commons for thirteen years, I am now elected for Ipswich, Cambridge and St Albans.49

49 William H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861: “Such a return is unprecedented in parliamentary annals. No one save the new Attorney General can boast of a triple return. Of course he sits for Cambridge; a fact, overlooked by his biographers from Lochithea 371

But Parliament suffers with controversies and altercations: should I be admitted or rejected by reason of my place of Attorney thought not eligible. Finally, the matter long and in eager dispute, it is of agreement to admit me for this occasion only without prejudice to those privileges.50 Would my memory serve me, what followeth is the second important case after the one of Lord Essex; it is the Peacham case51 that involves a clergyman of Somersetshire, between sixty and seventy years of age. On breaking into his study, a sermon is there found which he hath never preached, nor intended to preach, nor shown to any human being, but which contains some passages encouraging the people to resist tyranny.

Warrant of Edmund Peacham52 After our hearty commendations: whereas Edmund Peacham, now prisoner in the Tower, stands charged with the writing of a book or pamphlet containing matter treasonable (as is conceived), and being examined thereupon refuseth to declare the truth in those points whereof he hath been interrogated: forasmuch as the same doth concern his Majesty’s sacred person and government, and doth highly concern the service to have many things yet discovered touching the said book and the author thereof, wherein Peacham dealeth not so clearly as becometh an honest and loyal subject: these shall be therefore in his Majesty’s name to will and require you and every of you to repair with what convenient diligence you may unto the Tower, and there to call before you the said Peacham, and to examine him strictly upon such interrogatories concerning the said book as you shall think fi t and necessary for the manifestation of truth, and if you fi nd him obstinate and perverse and not otherwise willing or ready to tell the truth, then to put him to the manacles, as in your discretion you shall see occasion. For which this shall be to you and every of you suffi cient warrant. Parties Issuing The Warrant: Arch Bishop Of Canterbury, The Earl Of Suffolk, The Duke Of Lenox, The Earl Of Worcester, Lord Stanhope, Sir Ralph Winwood, Sir Fulke Greville And Sir Julius Cæsar.

Sir Ralph Winwood draweth this report: “Upon these interrogatories Peacham this day was examined before torture, in torture, between tortures, and after torture. Notwithstanding, nothing could be drawn from him, he still persisting in his obstinate and insensible denials, and former answers.” Of when I forward two letters to his Majesty:53

Rawley to Lord Campbell, which connects his fame in a gentle and gracious form with the political history of Cambridge.” 50 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 51 In Lord John Campbell’s The Life of Lord Bacon, 1853, there is a manuscript, the Longleat manuscript, one leaf that rests in the Marquess of Bath Library; the manuscript is signed by Henry Peacham and bears a transcript of forty lines from Titus Andronicus with an illustration of scene i 52 Spedding: Life, vol ii, 1878 53 (a) Gibson Papers vol. viii (b) Resuscitatio, 1657 372 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

It May Please Your Excellent Majesty. It grieveth me exceedingly, that your Majesty should be so much troubled with this matter of Peacham; whose raging devil seemeth to be turned into a dumb devil. But although we are driven to make our way through questions, (which I wish were otherwise,) yet I hope well, the end will be good. But then, every man must put to his helping hand; for else, I must say to your Majesty, in this, and the like cases, as St. Paul said, to the Centurion, when some of the mariners had an eye to the cock-boat; except these stay in the ship, ye cannot be safe. I ﬁ nd in my Lord’s great and worthy care of the business. And for my part, I hold my opinion, and am strengthened in it, by some records that I have found. God preserve your Majesty. Your Majesty’s most humble and devoted subject and servant. Fra. Bacon.

My second letter, touching Peacham, which because it concerneth properly the duty of my place, I thought it ﬁ t for me to give his Majesty but a speedy and a private account thereof and clear seeing judgement in governing the business:

It May Please Your Excellent Majesty. First, for the regularity, which your Majesty, (as a master in the business of estate,) doth prudently prescribe in examining, and taking examinations, I subscribe to it; only, I will say for my self, that I was not, at this time, the principal examiner. For the course, your Majesty directeth and commandeth for the feeling of the judges of the King’s Bench, their several opinions, by distributing our selves and enjoining secrecy; we did fi rst fi nd an encounter in the opinion of my Lord Coke; who seemed to affi rm that such particular and (as he called it,) auticular taking of opinions, was not according to the custom of this Realm; and seemed to divine that his brethren would never do it. But when I replied, that it was our duty to pursue your Majesty’s directions, and it were not amiss for his Lordship to leave his brethren to their own answers, it was so concluded and his Lordship did desire that I mought confer with himself; and Mr. Serjeant Montague, was named to speak with Justice Crooke; Mr. Serjeant Crew, with Justice Houghton; and Mr. Solicitor, with Justice Doderidge. This done, I took my fellows aside, and advised that they should presently speak with the three judges, before I could speak with my Lord Coke, for doubt of infusion; and that they should not in any case make any doubt to the judges as if they mistrusted, they would not deliver any opinion apart, but speak resolutely to them, and only make their coming to be, to know, what time they would appoint to be attended with the papers. This sorted not amiss; for Mr. Solicitor came to me, this evening, and related to me that he had found Judge Doderidge very ready to give opinion in secret; and fell upon the same reason which upon your Majesty’s fi rst letter, I had used to my Lord Coke, at the Council Table; which was, that every judge was bound expressly by his oath to give your Majesty counsel, when he was called; and whether he should do it, jointly or severally, that rested in your Majesty’s good pleasure, as you would require it. And though the ordinary course was to assemble them, yet there mought intervene cases, wherein the other course was more convenient. The like answer made Justice Crooke. Lochithea 373

Justice Houghton, who is a soft man, seemed desirous, fi rst, to confer; alleging, that the other three judges, had all served the crown, before they were judges, but that he had not been much acquainted with business of this nature. We purpose therefore, forthwith, they shall be made acquainted with the papers; and it that could be done, as suddenly, as this was, I should make small doubt of their opinions: and howsoever, I hope, force of law and president, will bind them to the truth: neither am I wholly out of hope, that my Lord Coke himself, when I have in some dark manner put him in doubt, that he shall be left alone, will not continue singular. For Owen, I know not the reason, why there should have been no mention made thereof, in the last advertisement: for I must say for my self, that I have lost no moment of time in it, as my Lord of Canterbury can bear me witness. For having received, from my Lord, and additional of great importance; which was, that Owen, of his own accord after examination, should compare the case of your Majesty, (if you were excommunicate,) to the case, of a prisoner, condemned at the Bar; which additional was subscribed by one witness; but yet I perceived it was spoken aloud, and in the hearing of others; I presently sent down a copy thereof, which is now come up, attested with the hands of three more, lest there should have been and scruple of singularis testis; so as for this case, I may say, omnia parata; and we expect but a direction from your Majesty, for the acquainting the judges severally; or the four judges, of the King’s Bench, as your Majesty shall think good. I forget not, nor for fl ow not, your Majesty’s commandment, touching recufants; of which, when it is ripe, I will give your Majesty a true account, and what is possible to be done and where the impediment is. Mr. Secretary bringeth Bonam Vuluntatem, but he is not versed much, in these things; and sometimes urgeth the conclusion without the premises, and by haste hindreth. It is my Lord Treasurer, and the Exchequer, must help it, if it be holpen. I have heard more ways than one, of an offer of £20.000 per annum, for farming the penalties of recusants, not including any offence capital or of premunire; wherein I will presume to say, that my poor endeavours, since I was by your great and sole grace, your attorney, have been no small spurs, to make them feel your laws and seek this redemption; wherein, I must also say, my Lord Coke hath done his part: and I do assure your Majesty, I know it, somewhat inwardly and groundedly, that by the courses we have taken, they conform daily and in great numbers; and I would to God it were as well a conversion as a conformity; but of them, to deliver their opinion apart and in private; whether it were a good answer to deny it otherwise than if it were propounded at the Table. To this he said, that the cases were not alike, because this concerned life. To which I replied, that questions of estate, mought concern thousands of lives, and many things more precious than the life of a particular; as war and peace, and the like. To conclude his Lordship tanquam exitum quærens, desired me for the time to leave with him, the papers without pressing him to consent to deliver a private opinion, till he had perused them. I said I would; and the more willingly because I thought his Lordship upon due consideration of the papers, would fi nd the case to be so clear a case of treason as he would make no diffi culty to deliver his opinion in private; and so I was persuaded of the rest of the judges of the King’s Bench; who likewise, (as I partly understood,) made no scruple to deliver their opinion, in private. Whereunto he said, (which I noted well,) that 374 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals his brethren were wise men; and that, they might make a shew, as if they would give an opinion, as was required; but the end would be, that it would come to this; they would say they doubted of it and so pray advice with the rest. But to this I answered that I was sorry to hear him say so much lest if it came so to pass some that loved him not might make a construction, that that, which he had foretold he had wrought. Thus your Majesty sees that as Solomon saith; Gressus nolentis tanquamin sepi spinarum; it catcheth upon every thing. The latter meeting is yet, of more importance; for then, coming armed with divers presidents, I thought to set in, with the best strength I could and said; that before I descended to the record, I would break the case to him thus. That it was true, we were to proceed upon the ancient statue of King Edward III., because other temporary statues were gone; I have followed the ancient style of the indictments for brevity sake, though when we come to the business it self, we shall enlarge it, according to the use of the later times. This I represented to him, (being a thing he is well acquainted with,) that he might perceive the platform of that was intended, without any mistaking, or obscurity. But then I fell to the matter it self, to lock him in, as much as I could, viz. That there be four means or manners, whereby the death of the King is compassed and imagined. The fi rst, by some particular fact or plot. The second, by disabling his title; as by affi rming that he is not lawful King, or that another ought to be King, or that he is an usurper, or a bastard, or the like. The third, by subjecting his title to the Pope, and thereby making him of an absolute King, a conditional King. The fourth, by disabling his regiment, and making him appear to be incapable or indign to reign. These things I relate to your Majesty in sum as is fi t; which when, I opened to my Lord, I did insist a little more upon with more effi cacy and edge and authority of law and record, than I can now express. Then I placed Peacham’s Treason with in the last division, agreeable to divers presidents, whereof I had the records ready; and concluded that your Majesty’s safety and life and authority was thus by law inscansed and quartered; and that it was in vain to fortify on three of the sides and so leave you open on the fourth. It is true, he heard me, in a grave fashion more than accustomed, and took a pen, and took notes of my divisions; and when he read the presidents and records, would say; this you mean falleth within your fi rst or your second division. In the end, I expressly demanded his opinion, as that, whereto both he, and I was enjoined. But he desired me to leave the presidents with him that he might advise upon them. I told him the rest of my fellows would dispatch their part, and I should be behind with mind; which I persuaded my self, your Majesty would impute, rather to his backwardness than my negligence. He said, as soon as I should understand that the rest were ready, he would not be long after with his opinion. For I.S. your Majesty knoweth the day draweth on, and my Lord Chancellor’s recovery, the season, and his age promising not to be too hasty. I spake with him, at what time, I found him in bed, but his spirits strong and not spent or wearied; and spake wholly of your business, leading me from one matter to another. And wished, and seemed to hope, that he might attend the day, for I.S. and it were, (as he said,) to be his last work to conclude his services and express his affection towards your Majesty. I presumed to say to him that I knew your Majesty would be exceeding desirous of his being present that day, so as that I mought be Lochithea 375 without prejudice to his continuance; but that, otherwise, your Majesty esteemed a servant more than a service, especially such a servant. Surely, in mine opinion, your Majesty were better put off the day than want his presence, considering the cause of the putting off, is so notorious; and then the capital and the criminal may come together the next term. I have not been unprofi table in helping to discover and examine with in these few days, a late patent, by surreption obtained for your Majesty, of the great forest in England, worth £30.000 under colour of a defective title for a matter of £400. The person must be named, because the patent must be questioned. It is a great person, my Lord of Shrewsbury; or rather, (as I think,) a greater than he, which is my Lady of Shrewsbury. But I humbly pray your Majesty, to know this fi rst from my Lord Treasurer, whom, methinks, groweth even studious in your business. God preserve your Majesty. Your Majesty’s most humble and devoted subject, and servant. The rather, in regard of Mr. Murray’s absence, I humbly pray your Majesty, to have a little regard, to this letter. Fra. Bacon.

The Examination of Edmund Peacham, at the Tower March 10th, 1614.54 Being asked when he was last at London, and where he lodged when he was there? He saith he was last at London after the end of the last Parliament; but where lodged he knoweth not. Being asked with what gentlemen, or others in London, when he was here last, he had conference and speech withal? He saith he had speech only with Sir Maurice Berkeley, and that about the petitions only, which had been before sent up to him by the people of the country, touching the apparitors and the grievances offered the people by the Court of the ofﬁ cials. Being asked, touching one Peacham, of his name, what knowledge he had of him, and whether he was not the person that did put into his mind divers of those traitorous passages which are both in his loose and contexted papers? He saith this Peacham, of his name, was a divine, a scholar, and a traveller; and that he came to him some years past, the certainty of the time he cannot remember, and lay at this examinate’s house a quarter of a year, and took so much upon him as he had scarce the command of his own house or study; but that he would be writing, sometimes in the church, sometimes in the steeple, sometimes in this examinate’s study; and now saith farther, that those papers, as well loose as contexted, which he had formerly confessed to be of his own hand, might be of the writing of the said Peacham; and saith conﬁ dently, that none of them are his own handwriting or inditing; but whatsoever is in his former examinations, as well before his Majesty’s Learned Counsel, as before my Lord of Canterbury, and other the Lords, and others of his Majesty’s Privy Council, was wholly out of fear, and to avoid torture, and not otherwise.

54 Sir David Dalrymple’s Memorials and Letters 376 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Being required to describe what manner of man the said Peacham that lay at his house was; he saith that he was tall of stature, and can make no other description of him, but saith, as he taketh it, he dwelleth sometimes at Honslow as a minister; for he hath seen his letters of orders and licence under the hand of Mr. D. Chatterton, sometime Bishop of London. He denieth to set his hand to this examination. Examinat’ Per: Fr. Bacon, Ger. Helwysse, Zanulphe Crewe, H. Yelverton.

John Chamberlain giveth his usual account of the matter in general: “Peacham, the Minister, that hath been this twelvemonth in the Tower, is sent down to be tried for treason in Somersetshire before the Lord Chief Baron and Sir Henry Montagu the Recorder. Sir Randal Crew and Sir Harry Yelverton, the King’s Sergeant and Solicitor, are sent down to prosecute the trial. If the fellow have the grace to submit himself, I think he shall have no great harm, otherwise he must take his adventure.” And again: “Peacham the minister, after a year’s imprisonment in the Tower, was arraigned the 7 of this month at the assizes in Somersetshire, before the Lord Chief Baron and Sir Henry Montagu. Sir Randal Crew and Sir Henry Yelverton were sent down to prosecute the business. Seven Knights were taken from the Bench to be of the jury. He defended himself very simply, but obstinately and doggedly enough; but his offence was so foul and scandalous that he was condemned of high treason; yet not executed, nor perhaps shall be, if he have the grace to submit himself and show some remorse.”55 Another attempt is made for him a confession of truth, at which he seems to have owned himself the author of the writing imputed to him, but denies any intention to publish or preach them. Though not pardoned or liberated, he is allowed to live otherwise unmolested. Peacham dies seven months after. And so much for the Peacham case when of intention is erected a new library in Cambridge, in imitation of that of Oxford, the heads of the Houses are the primi motores, who are already to buy the soil and provide the materials. They promise themselves whatsoever furtherance from the Earl of Suffolk; the Lord Treasure may give them, either by his authority or countenance, having lately made choice of him to be their Chancellor.56 His Majesty travels to Cambridge for the play Ignoramus which hath so nettled the lawyers, that they are almost out of all patience; and at the King’s Bench, Coke takes to the scholars with much bitterness with result of many ballads and rhymes, from divers Inns of Court, ’gainst him. My works see me constantly on the Virginia Company that I have been involved now for some time as with my report to his Majesty witnesses:57

It May Please Your Most Excellent Majesty. Your Majesty shall shortly receive the Bill, for the incorporation, of the New Company, together with a Bill, for the Privy Seal, being a dependency thereof. For this morning, I

55 Spedding: Works, vol. v 56 Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 57 Resuscitatio, 1657 Lochithea 377 subscribed and docketed them both. I think it therefore now time to represent to your Majesty’s high wisdom that which I conceive and have had long in my mind, concerning your Majesty’s service, and honourable profi t in this business. This project, which hath proceeded from a worthy service of the Lord Treasurer, I have, from the beginning, constantly affected; as may well appear by my sundry labours, from time to time in the same: for I hold it a worthy character of your Majesty’s reign and times; insomuch, as though your Majesty mought have at this time (as is spoken,) a great annual benefi t for the quitting of it, yet I shall never be the man that should wish for your Majesty to deprive your self of that beatitude, Beatius est dare, quam accipere; in this cause: but to sacrifi ce your profi t (though as your Majesty’s state is it be precious to you,) to so great a good of your Kingdom: although this project is not without a profi t immediate unto you, by the increasing of customs upon the materials of dyes. But here is the case. The New Company, by this patent and Privy Seal, are to have two things, wholly diverse, from the fi rst intention, or rather, ex diametro opposite unto the same; which nevertheless they must of necessity have, or else the work is overthrown. So I may call them mala necessaria, but yet withal temporarie. For, as men make war to have peace, so these merchants must have licence for whites, to the end to banish whites; and they must have licence to use teyntours, to the end to banish teyntours. This is therefore that I say; your Majesty upon these two points may justly and with honour, and with preservation of your fi rst intention inviolate, demand profi t in the interim, as long as these unnatural points continue, and then to cease: for your Majesty may be pleased to observe, that they are to have all the old company’s profi t, by the trade of whites; they are, again to have, upon the proportion of clothes, which they shall vent, died and dressed, the Flemmings profi t upon the teyntour. Now then I say; as it had been too good husbandry for a King to have taken profi t of them, if the project could have been effected at once, (as was voiced;) so on the other side, it might be perchance, too little husbandry and providence, to take nothing of them, for that which is merely lucrative to them, in the meantime. Nay, I say further, this will greatly conduce and be a kind of security to the end desired. For I always feared, and do yet fear, that when men, by condition merchants, though never so honest, have gotten into their hands the trade of whites, and the dispensation to teyntour; wherein they shall reap profi t, for that, which they never sowed; but have gotten themselves certainties, in respect of the state’s hopes; they are like enough, to sleep upon this, as upon a pillow; and to make no haste to go on with the rest. And though it may be said, that that is a thing, will easily appear to the state, yet (no doubt,) means may be devised, and found, to draw the business in length. So that I conclude, that if your Majesty take a profi t of them, in the interim, (considering you refuse profi t from the Old Company,) it will be both spur and bridle to them, to make them pace aright to your Majesty’s end. This in all humbleness, according to my vowed care and fi delity, being no man’s man but your Majesty’s, I present leave, and submit, to your Majesty’s better judgment; and I could wish your Majesty would speak with Sir Thomas Lake in it; who, besides his good habit, which he hath in business, beareth, (methinks,) an indifferent hand in this particular; and 378 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

(if it please your Majesty,) it may proceed as from your self, and not as a motion, or observation of mine. Your Majesty need not in this to be straightened in time; as if this must be demanded or treated before you sign their Bill. For I, foreseeing this, and foreseeing that many things mought fall out, which I could not foresee, have handled it so as with their good contentment, there is a power of revocation inserted into their patent. And so commending your Majesty to God’s blessed and precious custody, I rest, your Majesty’s most humble and devoted subject and servant. Fra. Bacon.

It deserveth to be a little stood upon, and not to be lightly passed over that the colonies are forests; sturdy saplings have to be planted and encouraged until they are worth harvesting. No one should expect to show a return of profi t for the fi rst twenty years. But their ears are on their feet! Should they not see that when investors demand instant returns, they encourage disaster? The idea of dumping vagabonds and wastrels on the colonies need be discouraged as they would cause disruption and unsettle the migrants. The people to be sent to the plantations should be practical settlers, carpenters, foresters, farmers, and managers. They should be governed themselves without irritating rules that are to be decided in London. Such governing could cause an annoyance of law bringing civil war. Huge profi ts already arrive from the Indies and many investors in the New World wish the prospect of quick profi ts. In like manner to be stood upon is Sir Henry Neville passing away this summer, and of William Camden’s Annales set from Queen Elizabeth I’s reign over eighty-eight of her years. The Annales fi rst section is in folio and the second shall see print after the author’s death, though they shall be completed in 1617.58 Of personal interest be his Majesty applieth my knowledge into a suit in Chancery on his behalf and of a Lord Hunsdon:

It May Please Your Excellent Majesty. I received this very day, in the forenoon, your Majesty’s several directions touching your cause prosecuted by my L. Hunsden as your farmer. Your ﬁ rst direction was by Sir Cr. Parkina, that the day appointed for the judicial sentence should hold: and if my L. Ch. Justice upon my repair to him should let me know that he could not be present, then my L. Chancellor should proceed, calling to him my Lord Hubbard, except he should be excepted to; and then some other judge by consent. For the latter part of this your direction; I suppose there would have been no difﬁ culty in admitting my L. Hubbard; for after he had assisted at so many hearings, it would have been too late to except to him. But then your Majesty’s second and later direction (which was delivered unto me from the Earl of Arundel, as by word of mouth, but so as he had set down a remembrance thereof

58 (a) See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 (b) Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 Lochithea 379 in writing freshly after the signifi cation of his pleasure,) wars to this effect: that before any proceeding in the Chancery, there should be a conference had between my L. Chancellor, my L. Chf. Justice, and myself, how your Majesty’s interest mought be secured. This later direction I acquainted my L. Chancellor with; and fi nding an impossibility, that this conference should be had before to-morrow, my L. thought good that the day be put over; taking no occasion thereof other than this, that in a cause of so great weight it was fi t for him to confer with his assistants, before he gave any decree or fi nal order after such time as I have conferred with my Lords according to your commandment, I will give your Majesty account with speed of the conclusion of that conference. Further, I think fi t to let your Majesty know that in my opinion I hold not it a very fi t time to proceed in the business of the Rege inconsulto, which is appointed for Monday. I did think these greater causes would have come to period or pause sooner: but no; they are in the height; and to have so great a matter as this of the Rege inconsulto handled when men do aliud agere, I think it no proper time. Besides, your Majesty in your great wisdom knoweth, that this business of Mr. Murray’s is somewhat against the stream of the judges’ inclination: and it is no part of a skilful mariner to sail or row against a tide, when the tide is at strongest. If your Majesty be pleased to write to my Lord Cook that you would have the business of the Rege inconsulto receive a hearing, when he should be animo sedato et libero, and not in the midst of his assiduous and incessant cares and industries in other practices, I think your Majesty shall do your service right. Howsoever, I will be provided against the day. Thus praying to God for your happy preservation, whereof God giveth you so many great pledges, I rest. Your Majesty’s most humble and devoted subject and servant. Fra. Bacon.

I receive a message from Mr. Shute, which hath bred in me such belief and conﬁ dence, touching a promise of the Chancellor’s place; as I will now wholly rely upon Buckingham’s happy self and as they speak of the turquoise stone in a ring, as was given to Shylock by Leah before their marriage, I will break into twenty pieces, before he have the least fall. My mind is a very opal.59 Respects from Benet’s College, Cambridge, are given for the New Year: “Ad quam præsentatus fuit per honorand virum Franciscum Bacon mil. Regiæ maj. advocatum generalem, ejusdem vicariæ pro hat unica vice, ratione concessionis magistri et sociorum Coll. C.C. (uti asserebatur) patronus.”60 My distant cousin, Thomas Meautys, becometh my loyal and continued secretary from this year on; his messaging of King James I., and Buckingham betwixt my sufferings, shall attach importance in the soonest. Sir Thomas Lake, William Martin, Recorder of the city of Exeter, charged by his Majesty’s Attorney-General to have lately written a History of England, wherein were

59 George Frederick Kunz: Shakespeare and Precious Stones, 1916: “No museum collections, properly so called, existed in Shakespeare’s day, from which he could have acquired any closer knowledge of precious stones or gems, although the conception of a great modern museum of art and science found expression in the New Atlantis of his great contemporary, Lord Bacon.” 60 Blackbourne’s collections, 1730 380 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals many passages so unaptly inserted as might justly have drawn some heavy and severe censure upon him for the same. Buckingham is also becoming to dislike Coke and entangled into a quarrel with him regarding an appointment in the Court of King’s Bench. My account of this matter to Buckingham is of the usual nature when I stroll with him in the palace gardens. I inform Buckingham, that as I am sitting by my Lord Chief Justice, one of the judges asks Coke whether Roper, who holds the offi ce, is dead. His answer is that he for his part knew not. Then another judge answers, “It should concern you, my Lord, to know it.” Whereupon Coke turneth his speech to him, and saith, “No, Mr. Attorney, I will not wrestle now in my latter times.” I slipped into this and saith that he speak like a wise man. Coke further turns to me and mentioneth: “They have had no luck with it that have had it.” So I turn myself with this: “Those days are past.” I must yet add one other moment of which hath brought Buckingham to the high pitch of honour, to be in the eye, and ear, and even in the bosom of his gracious Master. My poor advice61 for his carriage in so eminent a place, and of so much danger if not wisely discharged; he is of now the King’s favourite, so voted, and so esteemed by all. I humbly propound unto him rules to be observed, and beseech, if he approve of them, constantly to pursue them: fi rst, of suits; be either of importance for value, or of diffi culty, direct that it be set down in writing; then appoint it to be left in writing; and appoint the suitor to attend for an answer so many days after as may be competent. Second, of petitions; prepare for answers in their times, set apart an hour in a day or two which will be easily done if drawn by a secretary which always lies in a narrow room. Third, divide the petitions as they come into several sorts according to the nature of the matter; fi rst, cause two or three several copies to be made, or the substance of it. Fourth, make choice of several men well versed in these several professions or qualities, whom to be trusted, and to them severally send copies, desiring them within twenty days after to return in writing their opinions of the petition, and their reasons for it, or against it; and let not one of them know what the other doth. Fifth, set apart an hour or two twice in a week, to peruse these petitions again, and the answers of the referees. I also conceive that all matters of diffi culty which will be presented to him, will be one of these eight sorts, either concerning: of religion and church men, or church matters; where he should rely not only upon him self, but take the opinion of some grave and eminent Divines. Of the laws and the professors thereof; that the judges of the law may be always chosen of the learnedst of the profession; little should be done in legal consultations without them, and very much may be done by their prudent advices, especially in their circuits, if right use were made of them. Of the Council Board, and matters of State; let the King be President of this Council him self, not so much by personal presence, but only in great and weighty affairs; that may overawe the Board too much, where in Councils there should be a freedom of discourse and of determination: but in pursuing the acts of his Council Table. Of negotiating with foreign Princes or States; the subject matter of the treaty must guide the choice of the persons to be employed. Of war by sea of land; the best way to continue a secure peace is to be prepared for a war. Let

61 Spedding: Life, book vi, chapter i, p. 167, 1878: “Among Bacon’s own papers there is no trace of any such composition. It is not noticed either by Rawley or Tenison; and if the thing itself had not been preserved, we should have had no reason to suppose that any such correspondence had passed.” Lochithea 381 arms and ammunition of all sorts be provided and stored up, as against a day of battle; let the ports and forts be fi tted so, as if by the next wind we should hear of an alarum; such a known providence is the surest protection. Of foreign plantations and colonies; disturb the land of such inhabitants as may well be spared, and to employ their labour in the conquest of some foreign parts without injury to the natives. Of matter of trade; I confess it is out of my profession, yet in that I shall make a conjecture also, and propound some things, whereby may advance the good of the county and profi t his Majesty; and of ten points to consider, I offer to Buckingham. Of the Court or Curialitie; neither in jest or earnest must there be countenance or ear given to fl atterers or sycophants, the bane of all Courts. They are fl ies, who, will not only buzz about in every ear, but will blow and corrupt every place where they light. I take time and leave with my physician, William Harvey,62 this man may write science like a Lord Chancellor as he was wont to say of me that I write philosophy like a Lord Chancellor. His experiments on the movement of the blood in the body of animals, assisted by his privilege Court position and James I’s passion for hunting, are to be stated in his Lumleian lectures at the Royal College of Physicians. His publication of the Circulation of the Blood keepeth in caveat his self; for he falls mightily in his practise, and ’twas believed by the vulgar that he was crack-brained.63 The King visits the University of Cambridge, where academic degrees have been pros- tituted by the admission of unlearned men. Upon where Coke, that his Majesty’s pleasure was, that I, and the Lord Chancellor, should receive an account from Coke into a view and retraction of such novelties and errors and offensive conceits as were dispersed in his Reports;64 his speech is that there are of his Reports eleven books that contain about fi ve hundred cases: that heretofore in other Reports, as namely those of Mr. Plowden, which he

62 William Harvey (1578–1657) his De motu cordis et sanguinis was published in 1628. “It is probably no accident that these three groundbreaking scientifi c thinkers, Francis Bacon, William Gilbert and William Harvey came from a single intellectual milieu. The combined effect of their infl uential writings kick-started the scientifi c revolution in England.” 63 Aubrey’s Brief Lives 64 In June 1616 the Privy Council, with Bacon behind it, formulated three charges against Coke. One was a trivial matter, never proved, about a bond that had passed through his hands. The other two were charges of interference with the Court of Chancery and of disrespect to the King in the matter of plural benefi ces. Coke was forbidden to go on circuit and ordered to revise the “errors” in his Reports, and on November 14, 1616, he was dismissed. Thereupon, presumably in search of an infl uential friend, he offered his daughter in marriage to Sir John Villiers, brother of George Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham. Coke’s wife objected and hid the child, who was then only 14, but Coke abducted her violently and had her married, strongly against her will, to Villiers. Coke then made a gradual return to public life and by 1617 was once again a member of the Privy Council as well as a judge on the Court of Star Chamber. Coke’s 11 volumes of Reports appeared between 1600 and 1615, and two posthumous volumes followed. Coke commented, rather than reported, but he was careful to supply a copy of the court record of each case. As the only formal series of collected law cases available at the time, his reports formed the main source for the citation of cases for many years. His four volumes of Institutes of the Lawes of England, published between 1628 and 1644, dealt with the law of real property (Coke on Littleton), the medieval statutes, the criminal law (pleas of the crown), and 382 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals reverenceth much, there hath been found nevertheless errors which the wisdom of time had discovered and later judgment controlled; and enumerated to us four cases in Plowden which are erroneous; and thereupon delivered in to us. The Lord Chancellor in the conclusion signifi es to Coke his Majesty’s commandment, that until report made and his Majesty’s pleasure thereupon known, Coke shall forbear his sitting at Westminster, etc., not restraining nevertheless any other exercise of his place of Chief Justice in private. To this matter, Buckingham forwards me the following: “Sir. I have acquainted his Majesty with my Lord Chancellor’s and your report touching my Lord Coke as also with your opinion therein;65 which his Majesty doth dislike for these three reasons: fi rst, because that by his course you propound the process cannot have a beginning till after his Majesty’s return, which how long it may last after no man knoweth; he therefore thinketh it too long and uncertain a delay to keep the Bench so long void from a Chief Justice. Secondly, although his Majesty did use the Council’s advice in dealing with the Chief Justice upon his other misdemeanours, yet he would be loth to lessen his prerogative in making the Council Judges whether he should be turned out of his place or no, if the case should so require. Thirdly, for that my Lord Coke hath sought means to kiss his Majesty’s hands and withal to acquaint him with some things of great importance to his service, he holdeth it not fi t to admit him to his presence, before these points be determined, because that would be a grant of his pardon before he had his trial. And if those things wherewith he is to acquaint his Majesty be of such consequence, it would be dangerous and prejudicial to his Majesty to delay him too long. Notwithstanding, if you shall advise of any other reasons to the contrary, his Majesty would have you with all the speed you can to send them unto him, and in the mean time to keep back his Majesty’s letter66 which is herein sent unto you from my Lord Coke’s knowledge, until you receive his Majesty’s further direction for your proceeding in his business. And so I rest, your ever-assured friend at command.” First, we conceive that after Coke is sequestered from the Table and his circuits, when his Majesty laid upon him the commandment for the expurging of his Reports, and commanded our service to look into them and into other novelties introduced into the government, his Majesty had in this two principal ends: one, to see if upon so fair an occasion he would make any expiation of his former faults; the other, to perform de vero this right to his Majesty’s crown and succession, and people also; that those errors and novelties mought not run on and authorize by time, but mought be taken away, whether he consented to it or no. We do not conceive his Majesty would have had Coke charge with those faults of his book, or those other novelties; but only would have had them represented to his Majesty for better information. For those great matter of discovery, it may be saith nothing more than this, that either they are old or new: if old, he is to blame to have kept

the jurisdiction of the courts. After Coke’s death, his papers were instantly seized, and some (including his will) were never recovered—Encyclopædia Britannica 65 According to Spedding, Lord Bacon’s account “has unluckily been lost, and the substance of the advice can only be gathered imperfectly from the King’s remarks in answer.”—See Spedding Life, book vi, chapter i, p. 175, 1878 66 “Of the letter from the King himself to the Lord Chancellor and Bacon which went along with this, I have not met with any copy or account.”—Spedding Life, book vi, chapter i, p. 178, 1878 Lochithea 383 them so long; if new, or whatsoever, he may advertise to his Majesty of them by letter, or deliver them by word to such Councillor as his Majesty will assign.67 Upon another matter, my letter to his Majesty urges him on merits and reminds; being that his Majesty is so much in favour of Lord Coke, I insert in my reminds the following:

It May Please Your Most Excellent Majesty. Your worthy Chancellor68 (I fear) goeth his last day. God hath hitherto used to weed out such servants as grew not fi t for your Majesty. But now he hath gathered to himself one of the choicer plants in your Majesty’s garden. But your Majesty’s service must not be mortal. Upon this heavy accident, I pray your Majesty, in all humbleness and sincerity, to give me leave to use a few words. I must never forget when I moved your Majesty for the Attorney’ place, that it was your own sole act, and not my Lord of Somerset’s who, when he knew your Majesty had resolved it, thrust himself into the business to gain thanks. And therefore I have no reason to pray to Saints. I shall now again make oblation to your Majesty; fi rst of my heart; then of my service, thirdly of my place of Attorney, which I think is honestly worth £6.000 per annum, and fourthly, of my place in the Star Chamber, which is worth £1.600 per annum; and with the favour and countenance of a Chancellor much more. I hope I may be acquitted of presumption, if I think of it, both because my father had the place, which is some civil inducement to my desire (and I pray God your Majesty may have twenty no worse years in your greatness, than Queen Elizabeth had in her model, after my father’s placing) and chiefl y because the Chancellor’s place went to the law, it was ever conferred upon some of the Learned Counsel, and never upon a judge. For Audeley was raised from King’s Serjeant; my father from Attorney of the Wards; Bromley from Solicitor; Puckering from Queen’s Serjeant; Egerton from Master of the Rolls, having newly left the Attorney’s place. Now I beseech your Majesty let me put you the present case truly. If you take my Lord Coke, this will follow: fi rst your Majesty shall put an over-ruling nature in an overruling place, which may breed an extreme. Next you shall blunt his industries in matter of your fi nances, which seemeth to aim at another place. And lastly, popular men are no sure mounters for your Majesty’s saddle. If you take my Lord Hubbard, you shall have a judge at the upper end of your Council Board and another at the lower end, whereby your Majesty will fi nd your prerogative pent; for though there should be emulation between them, yet as legists they will agree in magnifying what wherein they are best. He is no statesman but an economist, wholly for himself; so as your Majesty, more than at outward from, will fi nd little help in him for your business. If you take my Lord of Canterbury, I will say no more

67 “The delay which followed may perhaps be partly accounted for by the infl uence of Villiers, whose good will Coke had bespoken by the offer of a wealthy marriage to one of his brother.”— Spedding Life, book vi, chapter i, p. 181, 1878 68 Egerton 384 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals but the Chancellor’s place requires an whole man; and to have both jurisdictions, spiritual and temporal, in that height, is fi t but for a King. For my self, I can only present your Majesty with gloria in obsequio: yet I dare promise, that if I sit in that place your business shall not make such short turns upon you as it doth, but when a direction is once given, it shall be pursued and performed, and your Majesty shall only be troubled with the true care of a King, which is to think what you would have done in chief, and not how for the passages. I do presume also, in respect of my father’s memory, and that I have been always gracious in the Lower House, I have some interest in the gentlemen of England; and shall be able to do some effect in rectifying that body of Parliament men, which is cardo rerum. For let me tell your Majesty, that that part of the Chancellor’s place, which is to judge in equity between party and party, that same regnum judiciale (which since my father’s time is but too much enlarged) concerneth your Majesty least, more than the acquitting of your conscience for justice. But it is the other parts, of a moderator amongst your Council, of an overseer of your judges, of a planter of fi t justices and governors in the country, that importeth your affairs and these times most. I will add also, that I hope, by my care the inventive part of your Council will be strengthened, who now commonly, do exercise rather their judgments than their inventions, and the inventive part cometh from projectors and private men, which cannot be so well; in which kind my Lord of Salisbury had a good method, if his ends had been upright. To conclude: if I were the man I would be, I should hope, that as your Majesty of late won hearts by depressing, you should in this leese no hearts by advancing: for I see your people can better skill of concretum than abstractum, and that the waves of their affections fl ow rather after persons than things: so that acts, of this nature (if this were one) do more good than twenty Bills of grace. If God call my Lord, the warrants and commissions which are requisite for the taking of the Seal, and for working with it, and for the reviving of warrants under his hand, which die with him, and the like, shall be in readiness. And in this time presseth more, because it is the end of a term, and almost the beginning of the circuits; so that the Seal cannot stand still. But this may be done as heretofore by commission, till your Majesty hath resolved of an offi cer. God ever preserve your Majesty. Your Majesty’s most humble subject, and bounden servant. Fra. Bacon.

Westminster Hall ﬁ nally is relieved of scaffolds; Lords assemble whereby many leave after a disappointed term and a rich jeweller of Amsterdam bolts doors tight: robbery committed upon one of Count Maurice’s secretaries, whom they, having made drunk in a bordello, take his key out of his pocket, and steal away £600 in gold, breaking open an old window towards a back side to have it believed the thieves entered that way, but leaving the cobwebs, in which they were catched; for that being discovered to be but a fraud, because it is plain no man entered at the window, they are called into question who are known to be last in the Gefﬁ er’s company, and confessing the money upon the torture, Lochithea 385 and the money is found part of the jewels, and by them the rest discovered. The actors of the murder are two Frenchmen, of Count Maurice’s chamber, the other of his guard; which they confess to have committed in his Excellency’s lodgings at such time as he was abroad, and so cunningly conveyed themselves presently into other companies, that they could give the best testimony of themselves of any which belonged to the Court. They will be executed within these days; and a third Frenchman is in the reckoning of the money, who, coming in their way, had a share given him to keep silence, but he knows nothing of the murder, and therefore may escape the law.69

Notes Of The Lord Darcy’s Case Of Duels Against Mr. Gervice Markham. In Camera Stellata Xvii Novembris 161670 Here is a Bill of complaint by the Lord Darcy of the North against Mr. Gervioe Markham: and it is at the suit of the party grieved. In which I commend the Lord Darcy for taking the right course and not the left hand; that he being a Peer of the Realm and Counsellor in Parliament born, yet hath shown his obedience to his Majesty’s edict, as not to seek to right himself by the sword, but to resort to justice. And so it should be, that the fi rst in place should be fi rst in obedience. The offence the defendant stands charged withal is a compound, and notwithstanding anything I have heard I hold it a mixture, and a chartel and a libel being conjoined they are the more odious, and being accupled they are the worse. Your chartels may have their disguises, but yet they conduce to duel, and the duel conduceth to murder. Therefore I will speak something in general of duels and libels, and then in particular of this case clad in his circumstances; both briefl y; and turn the edge of my speech to root out this vile weed out of the Kingdom. The duel to which your chartel hath introduction shall never have better terms at my hands than to be the inceptive act to murder. There may be a scarlet in grain and a murder more glorious. And if the insidious murderer deriveth his pedigree from Cain that got his brother with a wile into the fi elds and so slew him, and the insolent murderer from Lamech, that called his wives together and told them that he would kill a man though he were hurt, there is not much gain in the pedigree for the nobleness of murder. But it always carries this with it that it is a direct affront of law and tends to the dissolution of magistracy. They being men despising laws divine and human, they become like Anabaptists, that do as the spirit moves them and according to the boundings and corvets of their own will, and for this they have made acts, and have rules, distinctions, and cases. This is right, as the Scripture saith, to imagine mischief as a law: it is meant of oppression in place of justice and no less meant of punctual faults as artifi cially invented, as was a law we have doctrine. These swelling tumours that arise in men’s proud affections must be beaten fl at with justice or else all will end in ruin. It is to set a vile price upon the blood of the subject thus to contemn law; for we read in stories that in every battle the virtue of a few persons carried away the day. Will you have the sacrifi ces of men, not of bulls or oxen? You say the law is such. But, my Lords, the law of England is not taken out of Amadis de Gaul nor the books of Parallels, but out of the Scripture, out of the laws of the Romans and Grecians, where never a duel was; and they

69 Thomas Birch: The Court and Times of James the First; vol. i, 1848 70 Spedding: Works, from Harl. MSS. 3638, f. 51 386 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals had such excellent reproachful speeches as we read in their orations, and yet never no sword drawn. But the King hath taken away all excuse, having given a fair passage, and nothing can be offered as a wrong but he hath left suffi cient remedy. My Lords, when his Majesty spake lately unto me of this business, and no man expresseth himself like him, he said I come forth and see myself nobly attended, but I know not whether any of them shall live four and twenty hours: for it is but the mistaking of a word in heat, and that brings the lie, and that brings a challenge, and then comes the loss of their lives. If Xerxea when he saw that great army, wept upon this thought that in a hundred years they should be all dead, did well can you blame the King if his heart abounding with clemency grieve to think that by the duel no man can be safe? His Majesty gave me two charges: one to proceed without respect of persons. The last example, brought by my Lord Hubbard at the King’s suit, between mean persons, did produce a great deal of good respect; and this is at the suit. But it never will be well till these ductores capita alta ferentes may be brought at the King’s suit and touched in this case. No man shall give greater respect unto great personages than I will be willing to do in other cases: and yet here, in respect of my duty to the King and respect of the safety of the Kingdom, I hope I shall not know a coronet from a hat-band, and the King hath given me charge that I shall not take life71 nor yet desist because the marshals of honour handle the case; for there is a double respect. Their proceeding is for the point of reparation of the honour of private parties. But the Star Chamber doth handle wrongs offered to my law and my honour, saith the King; for he that challengeth the party challengeth the law of the land, and they are aforehand with the law. For the other offence in general, the libel, I will not speak long. A libel is an offence when it is brought hither, not so much relating to the party in the libel offending, as well said at the Bar, as it tends to the public disturbance and wrong of the State. Salomon saith a good name is like a good odour; a good ointment casts a fragrant smell; and contrary a libel is like a common nui- sance that casts an ill odour and spreads itself abroad to the hurt of all. I beseech your Lordships to mark, is it like a case of a word? As if I call a man a traitor, he may bring his action of the case, or if he be a Peer of the Realm, he may bring his scandalum magnatum, and may justify; and if it be a matter of scandal, not of slander, then nil capiat per breve. But if it be a libel made to defame, it scars not nor skills not whether it be true or no. If it be a libel it is enough; except in matter of aggravation; as it is well set down by Sir Edward Coke in his case of L. P. which is Lewes Pickeringe. So much my Lords for the general. I will not hold you long, but will tell you what I have noted. First, it is very true that this same letter is not directly nor appertly a challenge, but it is an invitation to a challenge: and (as Mr. Serjeant Crew said elegantly) it is a challenge to a challenge. The King’s edict will out at a window if this be suffered: for I will but put a si in the challenge; as to say, if you have a mind to fi ght with me then send me your man or your writing. I stand not upon the defi nitive words of a challenge: it is that which conduceth to a combat or duel. The accepting of a challenge is under the King’s Edict, and it is likewise punishable by the Common Law before the Edict. Because the defendant hath made two subscriptions, therefore he guides us well. The fi rst contains the lie; it is not the remedy (truly applied at the Bar) presently to go and complain; but fi rst spices it with this, that he will maintain it with his life. What imports that? And then the second part of his letter [is] not an

71 I cannot guess what word was meant. Perhaps “offe”—James Spedding Lochithea 387

incitation or provocation, but a direct and plain preparation to a challenge. Yet I must tell you had it been the fi rst letter, not in respect of the lie but the libel, if a man should play with words, for it is a lie rung about with a bell, and some circumstances there are, I mark not passages of hounds’ heads or horse heads not worth the marking, but I tell you what I fi nd. First it is against a Peer of the Realm. And my Lords I beseech you let us keep their privileges, among which this is a great one, that they have a voice in Parliament, and some hundred joined with the Spiritualty have as great a voice as all the Realm besides. It is a ponderous privilege of the Peers in making of our laws. The gentry are second Nobles, and God forbid the privileges of the Peers should privilege them to wrong any man: yet there ought a distinction to be kept, and because he is a Peer his wrong is the greater. But if he had been a Knight or a gentleman we would have punished him in this case. It is true that some of the letters were cast out after a summons of Parliament. But I cannot found my sentence upon that, because I heard it only shed by the way. It somewhat aggravates the fault that Mr. Markham was beholding to my Lord, and that the lie should be given with a toties quoties. On the other side it somewhat extenuates the fault (for I thank God I hold the balance right) I think my Lord Darcy was to blame fi rst in the occasion in inviting his friend to recreation, to hunt, to pleasure, to society, where men should beware they turn not wine to vinegar. Besides my Lord was among his servants and in his own troop, the other alone; and therefore my Lord should have been wary lest anything should have passed to give Markham cause of grief or disgrace. The words were a motive to say he might have been beaten to rags. But they were prettily qualifi ed, for my Lord said a child of fi ve years old might have the better of the day, whereby was showed that he meant it fortune; and the rather because it hath been truly said and I have heard that Mr. Markham is by profession a soldier and well known of his valour; for a man of disputative valour had need be more nice of reputation than a man of declared valour. And for my Lord to fall in comparison of his man, and that he had been beaten and that to rags, these things before the Commissioners of Honour that handle all disgraces of gentlemen in their reputation, will be well remedied. But take it here as it is, I conclude, had this case been after the edict and proclamation, I should have weighed down the offence in a greater proportion than now I shall, and set a fi ne ratably. But taking the case as it is, no challenge but a step and primus gradus to a challenge, and that upon provocation such as men can scarce bear, being done before the proclamation, when he had as he thought no remedy, and after he knew he had remedy being heartily sorry, and then his modest defence (which hath been very well opened by Mr. Serjeant More and moves me very much), I hold the case such that Mr. Gervace Markham shall pay 500 pounds fi ne, and imprisonment according to the course of the Court. But for the good behaviour, he being a gentleman of quality as he is, I shall not meddle with it. But if it had been after the Proclamation came forth, I should have meddled with that too. I spare to speak of anything whatsoever appertains to repair the honour or reputation of private persons. I reserve that in all humbleness to my Lords, the great personages in commission touching martial affairs. If I had Beckwith here, I know what I would say to him for his striking and his battery, but that I leave to the Common Law, and the repairing of reputation to those great personages, and to this Court only a fi ne of fi ve hundred pounds, and imprisonment according to the course of the Court. Wise nature did 388 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals never put her precious jewels into a garret four stories high: and therefore that exceeding tall men had ever very empty heads.72

It cometh therefore to pass my forwarding election of position to Buckingham:73

Sir. The King giveth me a noble choice, and you are the man my heart ever told me you were. Ambition would draw me to the latter part of the choice; but in respect my hearty wishes that my Lord Chancellor may live long, and the small hopes I have that I shall live long my self; and above all, because I see his Majesty’s service daily and instantly bleedeth; towards which I persuade my self (vainly perhaps, but yet in mine own thoughts ﬁ rmly and constantly,) that I shall give, when I am of the table, some effectual furtherance, (as a poor thread of the labyrinth, which hath no other virtue but an united continuance, without interruption or distraction;) I do accept of the former, to be Councillor for the present, and to give over pleading at the Bar; let the other matter rest upon my proof, and his Majesty’s pleasure, and the accidents of time. For to speak plainly, I would be loath, that my Lord Chancellor, to whom I owe most, after the King, and your self, should be locked to his successor for any advancement or gracing of me. So I ever remain, your true and most devoted and obliged servant. Fra. Bacon.

I am thus sworn of the Privy Council to his Majesty; Cambridge University bestow their congratulations. I answer with delight: “Your letters were very acceptable to me; and I give my self joy upon your congratulation. This thing itself will (is suppose) conduce to my honour and satisfaction, if I remain in the mind I now am in; by unwearied study, and perpetual watchfulness, and pure affection, to promote the public good. Now among the parts of the Commonwealth, there are none dearer to me than the Universities, and learning. And this, my manner of life hitherto, and my writings, do both declare. If therefore any good fortune befalls me, you may look upon it as an accession to your selves. Neither are you to believe, that my patronage is either quite removed from you, or so much as diminished. For, that part of an advocate which concerneth entire. Also (if any thing more weighty and urgent ﬁ lleth out) the very ofﬁ ce of pleading (the King’s leave being obtained) is still allowed me. And whatsoever shall be found wanting in my juridi- cal patronage, will be compensated by my more ample authority. My wishes are, that as I am translated from the business of private men, and particular clients. To the government of the Commonwealth; so the latter part of my age (if my life be continued to me) may, from the public cares, be translated to leisure and study. Also this thought comes often into my mind, amidst so many business, and of such moment, every year to lay aside some

72 “I have seen this quoted somewhere as Bacon’s answer to King James when pressed for his opinion as to the capacity of a French Ambassador who was very tall.”—James Spedding 73 Resuscitatio, 1657 Lochithea 389 days to think on you: that so, having the greater insight into your matters, I may the better consult your advantage. Your most faithful and kind friend.” I give furtherance to Tobie Matthew’s suit as did Mr. Secretary Winwood; but not of an answer; I hear that a Lady of whom I have been unable to come of her name, has doubted I be a good keeper to his Majesty’s delicate ear.74 I am more and more bound unto his Majesty, who, I think, knowing me, to have other ends than ambition, is contented to make me judge of mine own desires. I am now beating my brains, (amongst many cares of his Majesty’s business,) touching the redeeming time in this business of cloth. The great question is; how to miss, or how to mate the Flemmings; how to pass by them, or how to pass over them. I shall never, whilst I breathe, alter mine own style.75 I perceive the cloth goeth not off as it should, and that Wiltshire is now come in with complaint as well as Gloucestershire and Worcestershire, so that this gangrene creepeth on; his Majesty, in his proclamation, need remedy and to forbid after fourteen days, giving that time for suiting men’s selves the wearing of any stuff made wholly of silk, without mixture of wool, for the space of six months. So his Majesty shall supply outward vent with inward use, specially for the fi ner clothes, which are those wherein the stand principally is, and which silk wearer are likest to buy; and he shall shew a most Princely care over thousands of the poor people; and besides, he shall blow a horn to let the Flemmings know his Majesty’s will not give over the chase. The winter season coming on is fi ttest for wearing of cloth, and there is scope enough left for bravery and vanity by lacing and embroidery, so it be upon cloth or stuffs of wool. Reasons why the new company is not to be trusted and continued with the trade of clothes: First, the company consists of a number of young men and shop-keepers, which not being bred in the trade, are fearful to meddle with any of the dear and fi ne clothes, but only meddle with the course clothes, which is every man’s skill: and besides having other trades to live upon, they come in the sun-shine so long as things go well, and soon as they meet with any storm or cloud, they leave trade and go back to shop-keeping: whereas the old company were beaten traders, and having no other means of living but that trade, were sane to ride out all accidents and diffi culties; which, being men of great ability, they were well able to do. Secondly, these young men being the major part, and having a kind of dependence upon Alderman Cockaine, they carry things by plurality of voices; and yet those few of the Old Company which are amongst them do drive almost three parts of the trade; and it is impossible things should go well, where on part give the vote, and the other doth the work, so that the execution of all things lies chiefl y upon them that never consented, which is merely motus violentus, and cannot last. Thirdly, the New Company make continually such new springing demands, as the State can never be secure nor trust to them, neither doth it seem that they do much trust themselves. Fourthly, the present stand of cloth at Blackwell Hall (which is that that presseth the State most, and is provided for but by a temporary and weak remedy) is supposed would be presently at an end, upon the reviror to the old; in respect that they are able men and united amongst themselves. Fifthly, in these cases, opinio est veritate major, and the very voice and expectation of reviror of the Old Company will comfort the clothiers, and encourage them not to lay down their looms. Sixthly, the very Flemmings themselves (in regard of the pique

74 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 75 Resuscitatio, 1657 390 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals they have against the New Company) are like to be more pliant and tractable towards his Majesty’s ends and desires. Seventhly, considering the business hath not gone on well, his Majesty must either lay the fault upon the matter it self, or upon the persons that have managed it wherein the King shall best acquit his honour, to lay it where it is indeed; that is, upon that carriage and proceedings of the New Company, which have been full of uncertainty and abuse. Lastly, the subjects of his Kingdom generally have an ill taste and concept of the New Company, and therefore the putting of them down, will discharge the State of a great deal of envy.76 My reasons and remedies set forth on the matter, I take into account another particular that hath been laboured by my Lady of Bedford, and put in good way by the Bishop of Bath and Wells, concerning the restoring to preach of a famous preacher, one Doctor Burgesse, who though he that be silence a great time, yet he hath now made such a submission touching his conformity, as giveth satisfaction. Gray’s Inn do choose him for their preacher, and certainly it is safer to place him there, than in another auditory, because he will be well watched, if he should any ways ﬂ y forth in his sermons beyond duty. In continuance to recommend to Buckingham from Gray’s Inn be the following: “Sir. I think I cannot do better service towards the good Estate of the Kingdom of Ireland, than to procure to the King to be well served in the eminent place of law and justice: I shall therefore name unto you for Attorney’s place there, of for the Solicitor’s place, if the now Solicitor shall go up, a gentleman of mine own breeding and framing, Mr. Edward Wyrthington of Gray’s Inn, he is born to eight hundred pounds a year; he is the eldest son of a most severe justicer, amongst the recusants of Lancashire, and a man most able for law and speech, and by me trained in the King’s causes. My Lord Deputy, by my description, is much in love the man: I hear my Lord of Canterbury, and Sir Thomas Laques should name one Sir John Beare, and some other mean men. This man I commend upon my credit, for the good of his Majesty’s service.”77 I love not to know what I have, that I may be less sensible of my loss: ’tis of one anonymous writ that is nourished toward my pen and here I giveth to you Reader:78 “In your last, which might have been your best, piece of service to the State, affecting to follow that old rule which gives justice leaden heels and iron hands, you used too many delays till the

76 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 77 ibid., 78 “The paper alluded to is one of which there are many contemporary copies scattered about in collections, under various titles, and all without any name subscribed. Though of some value for the light it throws upon the state of political parties and opinions at the time, I should not myself have thought it worth any particular notice if the blank left for the name of the writer had not been fi lled up by somebody with the name of Bacon, and secured for it (with the general consent of editors, biographers, and critics) a place among his works. When a writing has been once printed with a man’s name, to show that there is no suffi cient reason for supposing that it was his is not thought enough: you are expected to show suffi cient reason for concluding that it was not: and though I do not admit the challenge to be fair, I am willing in this case to accept it. With the help of what has gone before, I think I can show that whoever the author of this paper may have been, he cannot have been Bacon; but I must waste on little ink and paper upon it.”—James Spedding Lochithea 391 delinquents’ hands were loose and yours bound; in that work you seemed another Fabius, but them the humour of Marcellus would have done better: what need you have sought more evidence than enough? Whilst you pretended the fi nding out of more, missing your aim you discredited what you had found. The best judgments think, though you never used such speeches as are fathered upon you, yet you might well have done it and done but right. For this crime was second to none but the powder-plot. That would have blown up all at a blow, a merciful cruelty. This would have done the same by degrees, a lingering but as sure a way: one by one might have been culled out till all opposers had been removed. Besides, that other plot was scandalous to Rome, making Popery odious in the sight of all the world: this hath been scandalous to the truth of the gospel, ever since the fi rst nullity79 to this instant, when justice hath her hands bound. The devil could not have invented a more mischievous practice to our State and church than this is, hath been, and is like to be. God avert the evil. But herein you committed another fault, that as you were too open in the proceedings and so taught them where to defend themselves, so you gave them time to undermine justice, and to work upon all advantage both of affections and humours and opportunities and breaches of friendship; which they have so well followed (sparing neither pains nor cost) that it almost seems an offence in you to have done so much seeing that you did no more: you stopped the confessions and accusations of some, who perhaps, if they had been suffered, would have spoken enough to have removed some stumbling block out of your way; and yet you did not this in true favour to anyone, but out of I know not what present unadvised humour, supposing enough behind to discover all: which fell not out so: for there is sigillum confessionis non confi teri. However, (as the Apostle says in another case) you went not right to the truth: and therefore, though you were to be commended for what you did, yet you were to be reprehended for many circumstances in the doing, which occasioned that there was no more done. And doubtless God hath in this cross an eye to the negligence, and these briars are left to be pricks in your side and thorns in your eyes.80 But now since the case so stands, we desire you to give way to power, and so to fi ght that you be not utterly broken, but reserved entire to service the Commonwealth again, and to

79 “That is, the divorce of Lady Essex from her husband, preparatory to her marriage with Rochester. We do not know what Bacon thought about that proceeding: he never spoke of it so far as I am aware: but we do know that he could not possibly have spoken of it publicly in this way, whatever he thought.”—James Spedding 80 “The writer of the letter therefore was one who believed that this great Popish poison-plot was a fact, that Coke had in his possession evidence of it enough to proceed upon, and that while he was searching for more the parties implicated had succeeded in suppressing the enquiry and binding the hands of justice. Who can suppose that Bacon believed anything of the kind, or that if he did he would have given utterance to his belief in such a letter as this? A man who had heard Coke’s public declaration, who got his information in St. Paul’s walk, and his opinion from “the best judgments,”—that is, from the leaders and clergy of the Puritan party—might have believed that some great Popish crime had been discovered, and had been hushed up because it concerned great persons; but in Bacon’s position it is diffi cult to see how there could have been any hushing up without his being a party to it: and that he could have allowed the hint of such a scandal against the government to escape him in a letter which was certainly not meant to be confi dential, may be set down among the things that are absolutely incredible.”—James Spedding 392 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals do what good you can since you cannot do all the good you would; and since you are fallen upon this rock, cast out your goods to save the bottom: stop the leak and make towards the land; learn of the steward to make friends of the unrighteous Mammon. You have enough to spare (being well used) to turn the tide and fetch all things about again. But if you escape, yet consider that accusations make wounds and leave scars. Trust not reconciled enemies, but think the peace is but to secure you for further advantage. Expect a second or a third encounter: the main battle and the wings are yet unbroken; they may charge you at an instant with death before them. Walk therefore circumspectly, and if at length by the means of our good Majesty’s and yours, you recover the favour you have lost, give God the glory in action, not in words only; and remember us (with sense of your own past misfortune) whose estates and undoing hath, doth, and may hereafter lie in the power of your breath. Do not you, if you be restored, as some others do, fl y from the service of virtue to serve the time, as if they repented their goodness or meant not to make a second hazard of earthly favour for a reward that is promised in heaven; but rather let this cross make you more zealous in God’s cause, sensible of ours, and more sincere in all; which express thus. You have been a great enemy to the Papists: if you love God, be so still, but more indeed than heretofore; for much of your zeal before was wasted in words; call to remembrance they were the persons that prophesied of this cross of yours long before it happened; they saw the storm coming, being the principal contrivers and furtherers of the plot, the men that blew the coals, heat the irons, made all things ready. They owe you a good turn, and will if they can pay it. You see their hearts by their deeds. The best good work you can do is to do the best you can against them, that is, to see the law severely, justly, and diligently executed. For friends, though your Lordship be scant, yet I hope you are not altogether destitute: if you be, look on good books. To them and to God’s Holy Spirit directing you in the reading of them, I commend your Lordship; beseeching Him to send you a good issue of the said trouble, and from hence to work a reformation in all that is amiss, and a resolute perseverance proceeding and growth in all that is good; and that for His glory, the benefi t of yourself, His Church and Commonwealth, whose faithful servant whilst you remain, I remain a faithful servant to you.”81 An inquest on the death of Sir Thomas Overbury, who died in the Tower of London, not without suspicion of poisoning hath begun. Before entering the trial, Weston is brought to trial for administering the poison, and stands mute.82 He is produced in Court again on the Monday and, acknowledging his deed, is condemned. He is hanged; after Somerset had his dinner he is examined at York House in the presence of the Chancellor, the Duke of Lennox, Zouche, and the Chief Justice of England. On Simon and Jude’s Day, he be examined again by the same men. Robert Cotton Baronet, is dismissed after examination. Lumsden a Scotsman, is imprisoned. Likewise Thomas Monson, as party to the poisoning,

81 “The writer having sufﬁ ciently explained to Coke his errors past, proceeds to offer him advice for the future. Now if we could conceive of Bacon as in a position to offer advice to Coke without absurdity, we know pretty well what the tenor of his advice would have been. Mr. Gardiner, another original and diligent writer, though not aware that the authorship had been called in question before, came to the same conclusion upon internal evidence: It seems to me (says Mr. Gardiner) to be neither written in Bacon’s style nor to express his thoughts.”—James Spedding 82 William Camden’s Diaries Lochithea 393 and Gervase Elwes, Governor of the Tower of London, is repeatedly examined. Edward Sackville, John Wentworth, Bannaret, and Sir John Lidcott are imprisoned, and afterwards Sir John Hollis, on account of questions placed to Weston while on the gallows. The Seal is taken from Somerset. By means of Wotton he is commanded to yield the staff, insignia of the Royal Chamberlain, and to present himself before the delegates, by whom he is committed to custody in the Tower of London, with George Moore appointed Governor of the Tower.83

The Charge Of Sir Francis Bacon, His Majesty’s Attorney General By Way Of Evidence, Before The Lord High Steward,84 And The Peers, Against Robert Earl Of Somerset, Concerning The Poisoning Of Sir Thomas Overbury85 It may please your Grace, my Lord High Steward of England, and you my Lords the Peers; you have here before you Robert Earl of Somerset, to be tried for his life, concerning the procuring and consenting to the impoisonment of Sir Thomas Overbury, then the King’s prisoner in the Tower of London, as an accessory before the fact. I know your Lordships

83 “In the year 1846, the late Professor Amos published a volume entitled The Great Oyer of Poisoning, which will probably continue, in virtue of a few merits to hold its place in legal and historical libraries, and in virtue of many defects to enjoy a reputation much more respectable than it deserves. It has been written to prove that the real procurer of the murder of Overbury was King James I., himself; that the instrument he employed for the purpose was Sir Theodore Mayerne, the Court physician (who was also Overbury’s); that the Countess of Somerset was also engaged at the same time in an ineffectual attempt to poison him; that the King, hearing of this some two years after, determined to make her and her agents his own scape-goats; that accordingly he employed Coke and Bacon to get up a case against them, and manage the prosecution so as by fair means or foul to ensure a conviction; that he or they then employed a clergyman to betray the victims into fake confessions of their own guilt, and published to the world false reports of those confessions; as well as an offi cial account of the trial in which the truth was misrepresented in every way, by the omission of circumstances which were favourable to the prisoners, by the invention of circumstances which made against them, and by a general license of “garbling;” that the King’s motive for poisoning Overbury was a fear lest Overbury might in discontent reveal certain secret and unnamable vices to which Professor Amos supposed that the King and Somerset and Overbury and Overbury’s confi dential servant were alike addicted; that his motive for pardoning Somerset, after he had by such means suffi - ciently established his guilt, was fear lest Somerset should in revenge or in self-defence disclose the fact that be was himself the murderer of Overbury; and fi nally that James was just the sort of man to do such things. How far Bacon was an accomplice in all this, Professor Amos does not distinctly say; though a long chapter is devoted to him, in which his conduct is minutely criticized and found of course to be a continuous series of basenesses. I have carefully considered all the charges, but not found any that seem worth answering. And as the whole of the evidence is before the reader, I leave him to make his comments for himself.”—James Spedding 84 Lord Chancellor Egerton, Lord Ellesmere, and the Earl of Bridgwater 85 (a) Baconiana, 1679 (b) Spedding: Works, vol. v 394 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals cannot behold this nobleman, but you must remember his great favour with the King, and the great place that he hath had and born, and must be sensible that he is yet of your number and body, a Peer as you are; so as you cannot cut him off from your body but with grief; and therefore that you will expect from us, that give in the King’s evidence, sound and suffi cient matter of proof to satisfy your honours and consciences. And for the manner of the evidence also, the King our Master (who among his other virtues, excelleth in that virtue of the Imperial Throne, which is justice) hath given us commandment that we should not expatiate nor make invectives, but materially pursue the evidence, as it conduceth to the point in question; a matter that (though we are glad of so good a warrant) yet we should have done of ourselves; for far be it from us, by any strains of wit or art, to seek to play prizes, or to blazon our names in blood, or to carry the day otherwise than upon just grounds. We shall carry the lantern of justice (which is the evidence) before your eyes upright, and be able to save it from being put out with any winds of evasions or vain defenses, that is our part; not doubting at all, but that this evidence in it self will carry that force, as it shall little need vantages or aggravations. My Lords, the course which I shall hold in delivering that which I shall say (for I love order) is this, fi rst, I will speak somewhat of the nature and greatness of the offence which is now to be tried, and that the King, however he might use this gentleman heretofore, as the signet upon his fi nger (to use the Scripture phrase) yet in this case could not but put him off, and deliver him into the hands of justice. Secondly, I will use some few words touching the nature of the proofs, which in such a case are competent. Thirdly, I will state the proofs. And lastly, I will produce the proofs, either out of the examinations and matter in writing, or witnesses viva voce. For the offence itself; it is of crimes (next unto high-treason) the greatest; it is the foulest of felonies. And take this offence with the circumstances, it hath three degrees or stages; that it is murder; that it is murder by impoisonment; that it is murder committed upon the King’s prisoner in the Tower: I might say, that it is murder under the colour of friendship; but that is a circumstance moral, I leave that to the evidence itself. For murder, my Lords, the fi rst record of justice which was in the world was a judgment upon murder, in the person of Adam’s fi rst born, Cain: and though it were not punished by death, but with banishment and mark of ignominy, in respect of the primogeniture, or of the population of the world, or other points of God’s secret will, yet it was adjudged, and was (as I said) the fi rst record of justice. So it appeareth likewise in Scripture, that the murder of Abner by Joab, though it were by David respited in respect of great services past, or reason of state, yet it was not forgotten. But of this I will say no more. It was ever admitted, and so ranked in God’s own tables, that murder is of offences between man and man (next to treason and disobedience of authority, which some divines have referred to the fi rst table, because of the lieutenancy of God in Princes and fathers) the greatest. For impoisonment, I am sorry it should be heard of in this Kingdom: it is not nostri generis nec sanguinis; it is an Italian crime, fi t for the Court of Rome, where that person that Lochithea 395

intoxicateth the Kings of the earth with his cup of poison in heretical doctrine, is many times really and materially intoxicated and impoisoned himself. But it hath three circumstances, which make it grievous beyond other murders: whereof the fi rst is, that it takes a man in full peace; in God’s and the King’s peace: he thinks no harm, but is comforting nature with refection and food: so that (as the Scripture saith) His table is made a snare. The second is, that it is easily committed, and easily concealed; and on the other side, hardly prevented, and hardly discovered: for murder by violence Princes have guards, and private men have houses, attendants, and arms: neither can such murders be committed but cum sonitu, and with some overt and apparent act, that may discover and trace the offender. But for poison, the said cup itself of Princes will scarce serve, in regard of many poisons that neither discolour nor distaste; and so passeth without noise or observation. And the last is, because it containeth not only the destruction of the maliced man, but of any other; Quis modo tutus erit? For many times the poison is prepared for one, and is taken by another: so that men die other mens’ deaths; concidit infelix alieno vulnere: and it is as the Psalm calleth it, sagitta nocte volans; The arrow that fl ies by night, it hath no aim or certainty. Now for the third degree of this particular offence, which is, that it was committed upon the King’s prisoner, who was out of his own defence, and merely in the King’s protection, and for whom the King and State was a kind of respondent, it is a thing that aggravates the fault much. For certainly (my Lord of Somerset) let me tell you this, that Sir Thomas Overbury is the fi rst man that was murdered in the Tower of London, since the murder of the two young Princes. For the nature of the proofs, your Lordships must consider, that impoisonment, of offences is the most secret: so secret, as if in all cases of impoisonment you should require testimony, you were as good proclaim impunity. I will put book-examples. Who could have impeached Livia, by testimony, of the impoisoning of the fi gs upon the tree, which her husband was wont, for his pleasure, to gather with his own hands. Who could have impeached Parisatis for the poisoning of one side of the knife that she carved with, and keeping the other side clean; so that her self did eat of the same piece of meat that the Lady did that she did impoison. The cases are infi nite (and indeed not fi t to be spoken of) of the secrecy of impoisonments; but wise triers must take upon them, in these secret cases, Solomon’s spirit, that where there could be no witnesses, collected the act by the affection. But yet we are not to come to one case: for that which your Lordships are to try, is not the act of impoisonment (for that is done to your hand) all the world by law is concluded, but to say that Overbury was impoisoned by Weston. But the question before you is of the procurement only, and of the abetting (as the law termeth it) as accessory before the fact: which abetting is no more, but to do or use any act or means, which may aid or conduce unto the impoisonment. So that it is not the buying or making of the poison, or 396 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals the preparing, or confecting, or commixing of it, or the giving or sending, or laying the poison, that are the only acts that do amount unto abetment. But if there be any other act or means done or used, to give the opportunity of impoisonment, or to facilitate the execution of it, or to stop or divert any impediments that might hinder it, and this be with an intention, to accomplish and achieve the impoisonment; all these are abetments, and accessories before the fact. I will put you a familiar example. Allow there be a conspiracy to murder a man as he journeys by the ways and it be one man’s part to draw him forth to that journey by invitation, or by colour of some business; and another takes upon him to dissuade some friend of his, whom he had a purpose to take in his company, that he be not too strong to make his defence: and another hath the part to go along with him, and to hold him in talk till the fi rst blow be given. All these (my Lords) without scruple are abettors to this murder, though none of them give the blow, nor assist to give the blow. My Lords, he is not the hunter alone that lets slip the dog upon the deer, but he that lodges the deer, or raises him, or puts him out, or he that sets a toil that he cannot escape, or the like. But this (my Lords) little needeth in this present case, where there is such a chain of acts of impoisonment as hath been seldom seen, and could hardly have been expected, but that greatness of fortune maketh commonly grossness in offending. To descend to the proofs themselves, I shall keep this course. First, I will make a narrative or declaration of the fact itself. Secondly, I will break and distribute the proofs, as they concern the prisoner. And thirdly, according to that distribution, I will produce them, and read them, or use them. So that there is nothing that I shall say, but your Lordship (my Lord of Somerset) shall have three thoughts or cogitations to answer it: fi rst, when I open it, you may take your aim: secondly, when I distribute it, you may prepare your answers without confusion: and lastly, when I produce the witnesses or examinations themselves, you may again ruminate and readvise how to make your defence. And this I do the rather, because your memory or understanding may not he oppressed or over laden with length of evidence, or with confusion of order. Nay more, when your Lordship shall make your answers in your time, I will put you in mind (when cause shall be) of your omissions. First therefore, for the simple narrative of the fact. Sir Thomas Overbury, for a time was known to have had great interest and great friendship with my Lord of Somerset, both in his meaner fortunes, and after; insomuch as he was a kind of oracle of direction unto him; and if you will believe his own vaunts (being of an insolent Thrasonical disposition) he took upon him, that the fortune, reputation, and understanding of this gentleman (who is well known to have had a better teacher) proceeded from his company and counsel. And this friendship rested not only in conversation and business of Court, but likewise in communication of secrets of Estate. For my Lord of Somerset, at that time, exercising (by his Majesty’s special favour and trust) the offi ce of the Secretary provisionally, did not forbear to acquaint Overbury with the King’s packets of dispatches from all parts, Spain, France, the Low Countries, &c. And this not by glimpses, or now and then rounding in the Lochithea 397 ear for a favour, but in a settled manner: packets were sent, sometimes opened by my Lord, sometimes unbroken unto Overbury, who perused them, copied, registered them, made tables of them as he thought good: so that I will undertake, the time was, when Overbury knew more of the secrets of State, than the Council table did. Nay, they were grown to such an inwardness, as they made a play of all the world besides themselves: so as they had ciphers and jargons for the King, the Queen, and all the great men; things seldom used, but either by Princes and their Ambassadors and Ministers, or by such as work and practice against, or at least upon Princes. But understand me (my Lord) I shall not charge you this day with any disloyalty; only I lay this for a foundation, that there was a great communication of secrets between you and Overbury, and that it had relation to matters of Estate, and the greatest causes of this Kingdom. But (my Lords) as it is a principle in nature, that the best things are in their corruption the worst: and the sweetest wine makes the sharpest vinegar: so fell it out with them, that this excess (as I may term it) of friendship, ended in mortal hatred on my Lord of Somerset’s part. For it fell out, some twelve months before Overbury’s imprisonment in the Tower, that my Lord of Somerset was entered into an unlawful love towards his unfortunate Lady, then Countess of Essex; which went so far, as it was then secretly projected (chiefl y between my Lord Privy Seal and my Lord of Somerset) to effect a nullity in the marriage with my Lord of Essex, and so to proceed to a marriage with Somerset. This marriage and purpose did Overbury mainly oppugn, under pretence to do the true part of a friend (for that he counted her an unworthy woman) but the truth was, that Overbury, who (to speak plainly) had little that was solid for religion or moral virtue, but was a man possessed with ambition and vain glory, was loth to have any partners in the favour of my Lord of Somerset, and especially not the house of the Howards, against whom he had always professed hatred and opposition. So all was but miserable bargains of ambition. And (my Lords) that this is no sinister construction, will well appear unto you, when you shall hear that Overbury makes his brags to my Lord of Somerset, that he had won him the love of the Lady by his letters and industry: so far was he from cases of conscience in this matter. And certainly (my Lords) howsoever the tragical misery of that poor gentleman Overbury ought somewhat to obliterate his faults; yet because we are not now upon point of civility, but to discover the face of truth to the face of justice: and that it is material to the true understanding of the state of this cause, Overbury was naught and corrupt, the ballads must be amended for that point. But to proceed, when Overbury saw that he was like to be dispossessed of my Lord here, whom he had possessed so long, and by whose greatness he had promised himself to do wonders; and being a man of an unbounded and impetuous spirit, he began not only to dissuade, but to deter him from that love and marriage; and fi nding him fi xed, thought to try stronger remedies, supposing that he had my Lord’s head under his girdle, in respect of communication of secrets of Estate, or (as he calls them himself in his letters, secrets of all natures) and therefore dealt violently with him, to make him desist, with menaces of discovery of secrets, and the like. 398 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Hereupon grew two streams of hatred upon Overbury; the one from the Lady, in respect that he crossed her love, and abused her name, which are furies to women; the other of a deeper and more mineral nature from my Lord of Somerset himself; who was afraid of Overbury’s nature, and that if he did break from him and fl y out, he would mine into him, and trouble his whole fortunes. I might add a third stream from the Earl of Northampton’s ambition, who desires to be fi rst in favour with my Lord of Somerset, and knowing Overbury’s malice to himself, and his house, thought that man must be removed and cut off. So it was amongst them resolved and decreed, that Overbury must die. Hereupon they had variety of devices. To send him beyond sea, upon occasion of employment, that was too weak; and they were so far from giving way to it, as they crossed it. There rested but two ways, quarrel or assault, and poison. For that of assault, after some proposition and attempt, they passed from it; it was a thing too open, and subject to more variety of chances. That of poison likewise was a hazardous thing, and subject to many preventions and cautions, especially to such a jealous and working brain as Overbury had, except he were fi rst fast in their hands. Therefore the way was fi rst to get him into a trap, and lay him up, and then they could not miss the mark. Therefore ill execution of this plot, it was devised, that Overbury should be designed to some honourable employment in foreign parts, and should under-hand by the Lord of Somerset be encouraged to refuse it; and so upon that contempt he should be laid prisoner in the Tower, and then they would look he should be close enough, and death should be his bail. Yet were they not at their end. For they considered, that if there was not a fi t lieutenant of the Tower for their purpose, and likewise a fi t under-keeper of Overbury: fi rst, they should meet with many impediments in the giving and exhibiting the poison: secondly, they should be exposed to note and observation, that might discover them: and thirdly, Overbury in the mean time might write clamorous and furious letters to other his friends, and so all might be disappointed. And therefore the next link of the chain, was to displace the then Lieutenant Waade, and to place Helwisse, a principal better in the impoisonment: again, to displace Cary, that was the under-keeper in Waade’s time, and to place Weston, who was the principal actor in the impoisonment: and this was done in such a while (that it may appear to be done, as it were with one breath) as there were but fi fteen days between the commitment of Overbury, the displacing of Waade, the placing of Helwisse, the displacing of Cary the under-keeper, the placing of Weston, and the fi rst poison given two days after. Then when they had this poor gentleman in the Tower close prisoner, where he could not escape nor stir; where he could not feed but by their hands, where he could not speak nor write but through their trunks; then was the time to execute the last act of this tragedy. Then must Franklin be purveyor of the poisons, and procure fi ve, six, seven several potions, to be sure to hit his complexion. Then must Mrs. Turner be the say-mistress of the poisons to try upon poor beasts, what’s present, and what works at distance of time! Then must Weston be the tormentor, and chase him with poison after poison, poison in salts, poison in meats, poison in sweetmeats, poison in medicines and vomits, until at last his body was almost come, by use of poisons, to the state that Mithridate’s body was by the use of treacle and preservatives, that the force of the poisons were blunted upon him: Weston confessing, when he was chid for not dispatching him, that he had given him enough to poison twenty Lochithea 399 men. Lastly, because all this asked time, courses were taken by Somerset both to divert all means of Overbury’s delivery, and to entertain Overbury by continual letters, partly of hopes and projects for his delivery, and partly of other fables and negotiations; somewhat like some kind of persons (which I will not name) which keep men in talk of fortune- telling, when they have a felonious meaning. And this is the true narrative of this act of impoisonment, which I have summarily recited. Now for the distribution of the proofs, there are four heads of proofs to prove you guilty (my Lord of Somerset) of this impoisonment; whereof two are precedent to the impoisonment, the third is present, and the fourth is following or subsequent: For it is in proofs, as it is in lights; there is a direct light, and there is a refl exion of light, or back-light. The fi rst head or proof thereof is, that there was a root of bitterness, a mortal malice or hatred, mixed with deep and bottomless fears, that you had towards Sir Thomas Overbury. The second is, that you were the principal actor, and had your hand in all those acts, which did conduce to the impoisonment, and which gave opportunity and means to effect it; and without which the impoisonment could never have been, and which could serve or tend to no other end, but to the impoisonment. The third is, that your hand was in the very impoisonment itself, which is more than needs to be proved; that you did direct poison, that you did deliver poison, that you did continually hearken to the success of the impoisonment and that you spurred it on, and called for dispatch, when you thought it lingered. And lastly, that you did all the things after the impoisonment, which may detect a guilty conscience for the smothering of it, and avoiding punishment for it, which can be but of three kinds. That you suppressed, as much as in you was, testimony: that you did deface, and destroy, and clip, and misdate all writings that might give light to the impoisonment; and that you did fl y to the altar of guiltiness, which is a pardon, and a pardon of murder, and a pardon for your self, and not for your Lady. In this (my Lord) I convert my speech to you, because I would have you attend the points of your charge, and so of your defence the better. And two of these heads have taken to my self, and left the other two to the King’s two Serjeants. For the fi rst main part, which is the mortal hatred coupled with fear, that was in my Lord of Somerset towards Overbury, although he did palliate it with a great deal of hypocrisy and dissimulation even to the end; I shall prove it (my Lord Steward, and you my Lords and Peers) manifestly, by matter both of oath and writing. The root of this hatred was that that hath cost many a man’s life; that is, fear of discovering secrets. Secrets (I say) of a high and dangerous nature; wherein the course that I will hold shall be this. First; I will show that such a breach and malice was between my Lord and Overbury, and that it burst forth into violent menaces and threats on both sides. Secondly; that these secrets were not light, but of a high nature, for I will give you the elevation of the pole. They were such as my Lord of Somerset for his part had made a vow that Overbury should neither live in Court nor country. That he had likewise opened himself, and his own fears so far, that if Overbury ever came forth of the Tower, either Overbury or himself must die for it. And of Overbury’s part, he had threatened my Lord, that whether he did live or die, my Lord’s shame should never die, but he would leave him the most odious man of the world. And further that my Lord was like enough to repent it, in the place where 400 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Overbury wrote, which was the Tower of London. He was a true prophet in that: so here is the height of the secrets. Thirdly; I will show you, that all the King’s business was by my Lord put into Overbury’s hands: so as there is work enough for secrets, whatsoever they were. And like Princes’ confederates, they had their ciphers and jargons. And lastly; I will show you that it is but a toy to say that the malice was only in respect he spake dishonour- ably of the Lady; or for doubt of breaking the marriage: for that Overbury was a coadjutor to that love, and the Lord of Somerset was as deep in speaking ill of the Lady, as Overbury. And again, it was too late for that matter, for the bargain of the match was then made and past. And if it had been no more but to remove Overbury from disturbing of the match, it had been an easy matter to have banded over Overbury beyond seas, for which they had a fair way; but that would not serve their turn. And, periculum periculo vincitur, to go so far as an impoisonment, must have a deeper malice than fl ashes: for the cause must bear a proportion to the effect. For the next general head of proofs, which consists in acts preparatory to the middle acts, they are in eight several points of the compass, as I may term it. First; that there were devices and projects to despatch Overbury, or to overthrow him, plotted between the Countess of Somerset, the Earl of Somerset, and the Earl of Northampton, before they fell upon the impoisonment: for always before men fi x upon a course of mischief, there be some rejections; but die he must one way or other. Secondly; that my Lord of Somerset was principal practicer (I must speak it) in a most perfi dious manner, to set a train or trap for Overbury to get him into the Tower; without which they never durst have attempted the impoisonment. Thirdly; that the placing of the lieutenant Helwisse one of the impoison- ers, and the displacing of Waade, was by the means of my Lord of Somerset. Fourthly; that the placing of Weston the under keeper, who was the principal impoisoner, and the displacing of Cary, and the doing of all this within fi fteen days after Overbury’s commitment, was by the means and countenance of my Lord of Somerset. And these two were the active instruments of the impoisonment: and this was a business that the Lady’s power could not reach unto. Fifthly; that because there must be a time for the tragedy to be acted, and chiefl y because they would not have the poisons work upon the sudden: and for that the strength of Overbury’s nature, or the very custom of receiving poison into his body, did overcome the poisons that they wrought not so fast, therefore Overbury must be held in the Tower. And as my Lord of Somerset got him into the trap, so he kept him in, and abused him with continual hopes of liberty; and diverted all the true and effectual means of his liberty, and made light of his sickness and extremities. Sixthly; that not only the plot of getting Overbury into the Tower, and the devices to hold him and keep him there, but the strange manner of his close keeping (being in but for a contempt) was by the device and means of my Lord of Somerset, who denied his father to see him, denied his servants that offered to be shut up close prisoners with him, and in effect handled it so, that he was close prisoner to all his friends, and open and exposed to all his enemies. Seventhly, that the advertisement which my Lady received from time to time, from the lieutenant or Weston, touching Overbury’s state of body or health, were ever sent up to the Court, though it were in progress, and that from my Lady: such a thirst and listening this Lord had to hear that he was despatched. Lochithea 401

Lastly, there wag a continual negotiation to set Overbury’s head on work, that he should make some recognition to clear the honour of the Lady; and that he should become a good instrument towards her and her friends: all which was but entertainment: for your Lordships shall plainly see divers of my Lord of Northampton’s letters (whose hand was deep in this business) written (I must say it) in dark words and clauses; that there was one thing pretended, another intended; that there was a real charge, and there was somewhat not real; a main drift and a dissimulation. Nay further, there be some passages which the Peers in their wisdom will discern to point directly at the impoisonment. After this inducement followed the evidence it self; and so much for the Overbury case.

Of another case that holds much mystery, about the same time occurreth: an aged gentleman, Bartram, shot with a pistol three bullets into Sir John Tyndall, Master of the Chancery; much cause of worry rose for Bartram then so stabbed and wounded himself. Upon his arrest he would not confess to any remorse. Some days later, after being examined and suffered his hand to be cut off for the violence he committed, he tied some rope around a nail in the King’s Bench and thus offered his life of fi ve and seventy years. It saddened his Majesty to most, for more was suspected in Bartram’s violence ’gainst a judge.86 Coke is fi nally removed from his position and Sir Henry Montagu sworn in as his successor; the charges, as the Reader remembereth, is of Coke’s Reports that consisteth into eleven volumes with fi ve hundred cases pertaining to them. In these Reports, Coke hath introduced several things in derogation of the royal prerogative. Coke being suspended from public execution of his offi ce and from the Council Table and that he enter into a view and retraction of such novelties and errors and offensive conceits as were dispersed in his Reports. I prepare an account to the Lord Chief Justice Coke explaining these novelties and errors: “Not only knowledge, but also every other gift which we call the gifs of fortune, have power to puff up earth; affl ictions only level these mole-hills of pride, plough the heart, and make it fi r for wisdom to sow her seed, and for grace to bring forth her increase. Happy is that man therefore, both in regard of heavenly and earthly wisdom, that is thus wounded to be cured, thus broken to be made straight, thus made acquainted with his own imperfections that he may be perfected. Supposing this to be the time of your affl iction, that which I have propounded to my self is by taking this seasonable advantage, like a true friend, though far unworthy to be counted so, to show you your true shape in a glass, and that not in a false to fl atter you, nor yet in one that should make you seem worse than you are, and so offend you, but in one made by the refl ection of our own words and actions, from whose light proceeds the voice of the people, which is often, not unfi tly, called the voice of God.87 It proceedeth from love and a true desire to do your good. All men can see their own profi t; that part of the wallet hangs before. A true friend, whose worthy offi ce I would perform, since I fear both yourself and all great men want such, is to show the other, and which is from our eyes. First, therefore, behold your errors. In discourse you delight to speak too much, not to hear other men; this some say becomes a pleader, not a judge. While you speak in your own element, the law, no man ordinarily

86 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 87 Greek proverb: of the same is the peoples’ voice as the wrath of God 402 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals equals you; but when you wander, as you often delight to do, you wander indeed and give never such satisfaction, as the curious time requires. Secondly, you clog your auditory when you would be observed; speech must be either sweet or short. Thirdly, you converse with books, not men, and books especially human; and have no excellent choice with men, who are the best books; for a man of action and employment you seldom converse with, and then but with your underlings; not freely, but as a schoolmaster with his scholars, ever to teach, never to learn. But if sometimes you would in your familiar discourse hear others and make election of such as know what they speak, you should know many of these tales you tell to be but ordinary, and many other things which you delight to repeat and serve out for novelties to be but stale. As in your pleadings you were wont to insult over misery, and to inveigh bitterly at the persons which bred you many enemies, whose poison yet smelleth, so are you still wont to be a little careless in this point, to praise and disgrace upon slight grounds, and that sometimes untruly; so that your reproofs and commendations are for the most part neglected and condemned; where the censure of a judge, coming slow but sure, should be a brand to the guilty, and a crown to the virtuous. You will jest at any man in public, without respect to the person’s dignity or your own: this disgraceth your gravity more than it can advance the opinion of your wit; and so do all actions which we see you do directly with a touch of vainglory, having no respect to the true end. You make the law to lean too much to your opinion, whereby you show yourself to be a legal tyrant, striking with that weapon where you please, since you are able to turn the edge any way. Your too much love of the world is too much seen, where, having the living of a thousand, you relieve few or none. The hand that hath taken so much, can it give so little? Herein you show no bowels of compassion, as if you thought all too little of yourself. We desire you to amend this, and let your poor tenants in Norfolk fi nd some comfort; where nothing of your estate is not towards their relief, but all brought up hither to the impov- erishing of your country. But now, since the case so standeth, we desire you to give way to power, and so to fi ght that you be not utterly broken, but reserved entirely to serve the Commonwealth again, and to do what good you can, since you cannot do all the good you would; and since you are fallen upon this rock, cast out the goods to save the bottom; stop the leaks, and make towards land; learn of the steward to make friends of the unrighteous Mammon. You cannot but have much of your estate pardon my plainness ill got. Think how much of that you never spake for, how much by speaking unjustly or in unjust causes. Account it then a blessing of God if thus it may be laid out for your good, and not lefts for your heir. Do not, if you be restored, as some others do, fl y from the service of virtue to serve the time, but rather let this cross make you zealous in God’s cause, sensible in ours, and more sensible in all.” There now be a proceeding in the King’s Bench ’gainst Bertram’s keeper for misde- meanour, and I have put a little pamphlet (prettily penned by one Mr. Trotte, that I set on work touching the whole business) to the press by my Lord Chancellor’s advice. May I take a moment here to give explanation on Bertram him self:88 One Leonard Chamberlayne died intestate without issue, and left a sister married to Bertram, and a niece afterwards married to Sir George Simeon. The niece obtained letters of administration, and did administer; but afterwards upon appeal Bertram in the right of his wife (that was the sister) obtained

88 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 Lochithea 403 the former administration to be repealed, and new letters of administration to be committed to Bertram and his wife, because the sister was nearer of kin than the niece. Thereupon, Bertram brings his Bill in Chancery ’gainst the fi rst administratrix, to discover the true state of the intestate, and to have it set over unto him, being the rightful administrator; and this cause coming to hearing, it did appear that there was a debt of £200 owing by one Harris to the intestate: whereupon it was decreed, that the debt of Harris by bond should be set over to Bertram, and likewise that all other moneys, debts and bonds should be assigned over to him. In the penning of this decree there was an error or slip, for it was penned that a debt by Harris by a bond of £200 should be set over, whereas the proofs went plainly that it was but £200 in toto upon divers specialties and writings. Upon this pinch and advantage Bertram moved still that the bond of £200 should be brought in, and at last the defendant alleging that there was no such bond, the Court ordered that the money it self should be brought in, which was done accordingly, and soon after by order of the Court it was paid over to Bertram. When Bertram had this £200 in his purse, he would needs furnace that there was another £200 due by one singular bond, and thereupon got his adversary Sir George Simeon committed. Afterwards it was moved upon Simeon’s part, that there was only one debt of £200 and that the decree was mistaken in the penning of it, and so must needs be understood, because the decree must be upon the proofs, and all the proofs went but upon the £200 in toto, and not upon any particular bond; whereupon my Lord Chancellor referred the consideration of the proofs, and the comparing of them with the decree, to sir John Tyndell and Doctor Amye. They reported (which was the killing report) that upon the proofs there was but one £200 in all, and that had been eagerly followed by Bertram, and that Simeon had suffered by error and mistaking, and that it were time he were released (which was a most just and true report) and yet it concluded (as is used in such cases) that they referred it to the better judgment of the Court; and the Court upon the reading of that report gave order that the plaintiff Bertram should shew cause by a day why Simeon should not be enlarged, and the plaintiff Bertram dismissed. And before the day prefi xed the shew cause Bertram pistolled Sir John Tyndell. Upon his Majesty’s pleasure signifi ed, I forthwith cause the trial to be stayed, and examine the party according to his Majesty’s questions; and also send of the principal counsel in the cause whereupon Sir John Tyndell’s report was founded, to discern the justice or iniquity of the said report as his Majesty likewise commandeth. But the event since all this is, that this Bertram, being as it seemeth indurate or in despair, hath hanged himself in prison; of which accident as I am sorry because he is taken from example and public justice, so yet I would not for any thing it had been before his examination: so that there may be otherwise some occasion taken either by some declaration in the King’s Bench upon the return of the coroner’s inquest, or by some printed book of the fact, or by some other means to have both his Majesty’s royal care and the truth of the fact, with the circumstances manifested and published.

Francis Bacon Essay I. Of Truth. What is Truth? Said jesting Pilate; and would not stay for an answer. Certainly there be that delight in giddiness, and count it a bondage to fi x a belief; affecting free-will in thinking, as well as in acting. And though the sects of philosophers of that kind be gone, 404 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals yet there remain certain discoursing wits which are of the same veins, though there be not so much blood in them as was in those of the ancients. But it is not only the diffi culty and labour which men take in fi nding out of truth; nor again that when it is found it imposeth upon men’s thoughts; that doth bring lies in favour; but a natural though corrupt love of the lie itself. One of the later school for the Grecians examineth the matter, and is at a stand to think what should be in it, that men should love lies, where neither they make for pleasure, as with poets, nor for advantage, as with the merchant; but for the lie’s sake. But I cannot tell: this same truth is a naked and open day-light, that doth not shew the masks and mummeries, and triumphs of the world, half so stately and daintily as candle-lights. Truth may perhaps come to the price of a pearl, that sheweth best by day; but it will not rise to the price of a diamond or carbuncle, that showeth best in varied lights. A mixture of a lie doth ever add pleasure. Doth any man doubt, that if there were taken out of men’s minds vain opinions, fl attering hopes, false valuations, imaginations as one would, and the like, but it would leave the minds of a number of men poor shrunken things, full of melancholy and indisposition, and unpleasing to themselves? One of the Fathers, in great severity, called poesy,89 vinum dæmonum [devil’s-wine], because it fi lleth the imagination; and yet it is but with the shadow of a lie. But it is not the lie that passeth through the mind, but the lie that sinketh in and seettleth in it, that doth the hurt; such as we spake of before. But howsoever these things are thus in men’s deprave judgments and affections, yet truth, which only doth judge itself, teacheth that the inquiry of truth, which is the love-making or wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of human nature. The fi rst creature of God, in the works of the days, was the light of the sense; the last was the light of reason; and his sabbath work ever since, is the illumination of his Spirit. First he breathed light upon the face of the matter or chaos; then he breathed light into the face of man; and still he breatheth and inspireth light into the face of his chosen. The poet90 that beautifi ed the sect that was otherwise inferior to the rest, saith yet excellently well: It is a pleasure to stand upon the shore, and to see ships tossed upon the sea; a pleasure to stand in the window of a castle, and to see a battle and the adventures thereof below: but no pleasure is comparable to the standing upon the vantage ground of Truth, (a hill not to be commanded, and where the air is always clear and serene,) and to see the errors, and wanderings, and mists, and tempests, in the vale below;91 so always that this prospect be with pity, and not with swelling or pride. Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a man’s mind move in charity, rest in

89 Francis Bacon: The Advancement of Learning, Book i, 1605: “Poesy is a part of learning in measure of words, for the most part restrained, but in all other points extremely licensed, and doth truly refer to the imagination.” 90 The poet Lucretius from Francis Bacon’s The Advancement of Learning, Book i, 1605 91 In Francis Bacon’s The Advancement of Learning, Book i, 1605 the poet’s saying is given as follows: “It is a view of delight, to stand or walk upon the shore side, and to see a ship tossed with tempest upon the sea; or to be in a fortifi ed tower, and to see two battles join upon a plain; but it is a pleasure incomparable for the mind of man to be settled, landed, and fortifi ed in the certainty of truth, and from thence to descry and behold the errors, perturbations, labours, and wanderings up and down of other men.” Lochithea 405 providence, and turn upon the poles of truth. To pass from theological and philosophical truth, to the truth of civil business; it will be acknowledged even by those that practise it not, that clear and round dealing is the honour of man’s nature; and that mixture of falsehood is like allay in coin of gold and silver, which may make the metal work the better, but it embaseth it. For these winding and crooked courses are the goings of the serpent; which goeth basely upon the belly, and not upon the feet. There is no vice that doth so cover a man with shame as to be found false and perfi dious. And therefore Montaigne saith prettily, when he inquired the reason, why the word of the lie should be such a disgrace and such an odious charge? Saith he, If it be well weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much as to say, that he is brave towards God and a coward towards men. For a lie faces God, and shrinks from man. Surely the wickedness of falsehood and breach of faith cannot possibly be so highly expressed, as in that it shall be the last peal to call the judgments of God upon the generations of men; it being foretold, that when Christ cometh, he shall not fi nd faith upon the earth.

’Tis of time that Buckingham receiveth honours from his Majesty who saith most aptly and elegantly, “As the tongue speaketh to the ear so the gesture speaketh to the eye.”92 A preface to the patent of creation of Sir George Villiers leaves my quill. His creation of Lord Blechley of Blechley, and of Viscount Villiers, Blechley being his own name and I like the sound of the name better than Whaddon: but the name will be hid, for he shall be called Viscount Villiers. I includeth both in one patent, to avoid a double preface, and as hath been used in the patent of Earls of like nature. Nevertheless the ceremony of robbing and otherwise is to be double, as is also used in the like case of Earls.93

To the Lord Viscount Villiers. My very good Lord, I am glad to fi nd your Lordship mindful of your own business, and if any man put you in mind of it, I do not like that neither; but your Lordship may assure your self in whatsoever you commit to me, your Lordship’s further care shall be needless. For I desire to take nothing from my master and my friend but care, and therein I am so covetous, as I will leave them as little as may be. Now therefore things are grown to a conclusion touching your land and offi ce, I will give your Lordship an account of that which is passed; and acquaint your judgment (which I know to be great and capable of any thing) which your own business, that you may discern the difference between doing things substantially, and between shuffl ing and talking: and fi rst for your patent. First, it was my counsel and care that your book should be fee-forme and not fee-simple; whereby the rent of the crown in succession is not diminished, and yet the quantity of the land which you have upon your values is enlarged; whereby you have both honour and profi t.

92 Basilicon Doron, book iii 93 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 406 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Secondly, by the help of Sir Lyonel Cranfi eld I advanced the value of Sherbourn from £26.000 (which was thought and admitted by my Lord Treasurer and Sir John Deccombe, as a value of great favour to your Lordship, because it was a thousand pound more than it was valued at to Somerset) to thirty two thousand pounds, whereby there was six thousand pounds gotten and yet justly. Thirdly, I advised the course of rating Hartington at a hundred years purchase, and the rest at thirty fi ve years purchase fee-farme, to be set down and expressed in the warrant that it may appear and remain of record, that your Lordship had no other rates made to you in favour, than such as purchasers upon sale are seldom drawn unto; whereby you have honour. Fourthly, that lease to the Scoffees, which was kept as a secret in the desk (and was not only of Hartington, but also of most of the other particulars in your book,) I caused to be thoroughly looked into and provided for; without which your assurance had been nothing worth, and yet I handled it so, and made the matter so well understood, as you were not put to be a suitor to the Prince for his good will in it, as others ignorantly thought you must have done. Fifthly, the Annexation; which no body dreamt of, and which forme idle bold lawyer would perhaps have said had been needless, and yet is of that weight, that there was never yet any man that would purchase any such land from the King, except he had a declaration to discharge it: I was provident to have it discharged by declaration. Sixthly, left it should be said that your Lordship was the fi rst (except the Queen and the Prince) that brake the Annexation upon a mere gift, for that others had it discharged only upon sale, which was for the King’s profi t and necessity; I found a remedy of that also, because I have carved it in the declaration, as that this was not gift to your Lordship, but rather a purchase and exchange, (as indeed it was) for Sherbourn. Seventhly, and lastly, I have taken order (as much as in me was) that your Lordship in these things which you have passed be not abused if you part with them; for I have taken notes in a book to their values and former offers. Now for your offi ce. First, whereas my Lord Teynbam at the fi rst would have had your Lordship have had but one life in it, and he another; and my Lord Treasurer, and the Solicitor and Deccombe were about to give way to it; I turned utterly that course, telling them that you were to have two lives in it as well as Somerset had. Secondly, I have accordingly in the assurance from your deputies, made them acknowledge the trust, and give security not only for your Lordship’s time, but after, so as you may dispose (if you should die, which I would be sorry to live to) the profi ts of the offi ce by your will, or otherwise to any of your friends, for their comfort and advancement. Thirdly, I dealt so with Whitlocke as well as Heath, as there was no diffi culty made of the surrender. Lochithea 407

Lastly, I did cast with my self, that if your Lordship’s deputies, had come in by Sir Edward Cooke who was tied to Somerset, it would have been subject to some clamour from Somerset, and some question what was forfeited by Somerset’s attainder (being that of felony) to the King; but now they coming in from a new Chief Justice, all is without question or scruple. Fra. Bacon. Quirinus1 1617 (18) of the age ﬁ fty-six to 1622 of the age sixty-one

A snake lurks in the grass —Virgil Eclogues iii. 93

Do not stir the ﬁ re with a sword [Do not irritate angry men] —Pythagoras

The King sitteth in the Star Chamber, and sentence is pronounced against the youths Bellingham and Christmas, who have acted in despite of the proclamation against duelling. They are ﬁ ned £1.000, and the King delivers an eloquent speech against duels,2 to which let me add, in the ﬁ ght, overthrow your enemy, but be merciful to him when fallen;3 moreover, of how long do these Counsellors forbear to compete with worms? This day I have made even with the business of the Kingdom for common justice. Not one cause unheard. The lawyers drawn dry of all the motions they were to make. Not one petition unanswered. And this, I think, could not be said in our age before. This I speak not out of ostentation, but out of gladness when I have done my duty. I know men think I cannot continue if I should thus oppress myself of business. But that account is made. The duties of life are more than life. And if I die now I shall die before the world be weary of me, which in our times is somewhat rare. His Majesty sends for the Great Seal, by the Earl of Buckingham4 and Secretary Winwood, and presently seals the other patent to one Gills Mompasson, a kinsman of

1 Spearman 2 William Camden’s Diaries 3 Horace, Carm. Saec., v. 51. 4 George Villiers, Earl of Buckingham (1592–1628). In June 1627 Buckingham personally took command of an 8.000 man force sent to relieve the port of La Rochelle, a Huguenot (French Protestant) stronghold under attack by French government troops. After a four-month cam- paign in which Buckingham showed bravery, and an ignorance of the arts of war, his shattered army was compelled to withdraw. The Parliament of 1628 tried to force Charles to dismiss the favourite, but King James I., was unﬂ inchingly loyal to his friend. On August 17 Buckingham arrived at Portsmouth to organize another expedition to La Rochelle. Five days later he was

408 Lochithea 409

Buckingham. Before the King leaves for Theobalds, he delivers to my presence the Great Seal and appoints me Lord Keeper5 and reform workings of Chancery. The King admon- ishes upon four heads: the fi rst, that I should contain the jurisdiction of the Court, within my true and due limits, without swelling or excess. The second, that I should think the putting of the Great Seal of letters patents, was not a matter of course after precedent warrants; but that I should take it to be the maturity and fullness of the King’s intentions and therefore, that it was one of the greatest parts of my trust if I saw any scruple, or cause of stay, that I should acquaint him; concluding with a quod dubites, ne feceris. The third, that I should retrench all unnecessary delays; that the subject mought fi nd, that he did enjoy that same remedy ’gainst the fainting of the Seal, and ’gainst the consumption of the means, and estate; which was speedy justice. Bisdat, qui citò dat. Fourth, that justice might pass, with as easy charge as mought be and that those same brambles that grow about justice of needless charge and expense; and all manner of exactions mought be rooted out, so far as mought be.6 His Majesty leaves me to act as his virtual regent in England whilst he departs for Scotland for a six-month visit; this is the fi rst of the King’s reign as King of Great Britain.

A Dedicatorie To Their Most Magniﬁ cent King, From The Lovers Of Learning.7 How with sweet layes (O King) would please thine ear, Or make thy glory more by verse appear, He with a torch should seem to clear the day, And with a tear enlarge the groundless sea: For not inspired by Phoebus men thee deem, but gold-winged Phoebus self they thee esteem, Nor did’st thou drink of Aganippe Well, But thou a spring art where Jove’s daughters dwell, In which grave Pitho will each fair-haired hour, And blue-eyed Pallas all their nectar pour: Yet thus much we, the Muses nurslings, would

stabbed to death by John Felton, a naval lieutenant who had served in his campaigns and who misguidedly believed that he was acting in defense of principles asserted in the House of Commons. The populace of London rejoiced at the news—Encyclopædia Britannica 5 In a libel written in The Court of King James p. 115–116: “The Duke of Buckingham, to vex the very soul of the Lord Chancellor Egerton, in his last agony, did send Sir Francis Bacon to him for the Seals.” In Baconiana published 1679 it states that “there is an untruth in this; the King himself sent for the Seal, not Buckingham; and he sent for it, not Bacon, but Secretary Winwood, nor did any receive the Seal out of the King’s sight, till the Lord Egerton died; which soon fell out.” 6 The effect of that which was spoken at the taking of his place in Chancery and of the Great Seal of England—Resuscitatio, p. 80, 1657 7 Unknown author: The Muses Welcome, 1618—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) 410 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Thou not as thou deserve’st, yet as we could, In this glade time, when now, by thy repair To these dear bounds where ﬁ rst thou sucked air, Joy over-joy’d in formes confused appears, And makes old age amaz’d of Æzons years, As was our duty, humbly to thee bring These lines, a gift but small for such a King, Save that we know, what all the world doth know, That thou canst small things take, as great bestow; Which is the rarest, too and rich Gemme, That can adorn a Prince’s Diademe. Done out of the Greek

The same day I extend my gratitude to George Villiers, the Earl of Buckingham the King’s favourite, of which Meautys dictates thus my writ:8 “My dearest Lord. It is both in cares and kindness that small ones fl oat up to the tongue, and in great ones sink down into the heart with silence. Therefore I could speak little to your Lordship today, neither had I fi t time: but I must profess this much, that in this day’s work you are the truest and perfectest mirror and example of fi rm and generous friendship that ever was in Court. And I shall count every day lost, wherein I shall not, either study your well doing in thought, or do your name honour in speech, or perform you service in deed. Good my Lord account and accept me. Your most bounden and devoted friend and servant of all men living.” Of another writ with instruction to Sir John Digby:9 “Besides your instructions directory to the substance of the main errand, we would have you in the whole carriage and passages of your negotiation as well with the King himself as with the Duke of Lerma and Council there, intermix discourse upon fi t occasions, that may express ourselves to the effect following: that you doubt not but that both Kings, for that which concerns religion, will proceed sincerely, both being entire and perfect in their own belief and way; but that there are so may noble and excellent effects, which are equally acceptable to both religions and for the good and happiness of the Christian world, which may arise out of this conjunction, as the union of both Kings in actions of estate may make the difference in religion as laid aside and almost forgotten. As fi rst, that it will be a means utterly to extinguish and extirpate pirates, which are the common enemies of mankind, and do much infest Europe at this time. Also, that it may be a beginning and seed (for the like actions before have had less beginnings) of a holy war against the Turk, whereunto it seems the events of time do invite Christian Kings, in respect of the great corruption and relaxation of discipline of war in that empire; and much more in respect of the utter ruin and enervation of the Grand Signor’s navy and forces by sea: which openeth a way (without congregating vast armies by land) to suffocate and starve Constantinople, and thereby to put those provinces into mutiny and insurrection.”

8 See A. Chambers Bunten: Sir Thomas Meautys, Secretary to Lord Bacon, 1918 9 Spedding: Works, vol. xiii preface to Francis Bacon’s Advertisement Touching a Holy War Lochithea 411

I do not ﬁ nd my self strong enough to hear it be noted that Tobie Matthew continues to dress gay, rather gaudy, and is “noted for certain night walks to the Spanish Ambassador, Count Gondomar.”10 His affairs on the Ambassador is most truly innocent, for when of his journey in Spain he arranged for the marriage of Prince Charles, and therefore many matters need be settled. So much for such pick-thanks and let us not wander in generalities: let us compare particular with particular, &c., Count Gondomar payeth his pleasures with a visit. I thank God and the King for that honour; but yet, so I might be rid of the burthen, I could very willingly forbear the honour; and that I formerly had as desire, and the same continued to lead a private life. Count Gondomar answered that he would tell me a tale; of an old rat, that would needs leave the world; and acquainted the young rats that he would retire into his hole, and spend his days solitarily; and would enjoy no more comfort: and commanded them upon his high displeasure, not to offer to come in unto him. They forbore two or three days; at last, one that was more hardy than the rest, incited some of his fellows to go in with him, and he would venture to see how his father did; for he might be dead. They went in, and found the old rat sitting in the midst of a rich Parmesan cheese.11 Tobie may be in their light but not in their way, and of Parmesan cheese, I have none; of news that our East India Company is of great bravery, I have much: on the closure of their books, an amount of £1.400.000 is of underwriters and diverse have underwritten for ten, twelve, and fourteen thousand pounds apiece.12 An in those things my writ leave to Cambridge University from Gorhambury for their felicitations on my new position:

To The Renowned University Of Cambridge, My Dear And Reverend Mother. I am debtor to you of your letters, and of the time, likewise, that I have taken to answer them; but as soon as I could choose what to think on, I thought good to let you know, that although you may err much in your valuation of me, yet you shall not be deceived in your assurance: and for the other part also, though the manner be to mend the picture by the life, yet I would be glad to mend the life by the picture, and to become and be as you express me to be. Your gratulations shall be no more welcome to me than your business or occasions, which I will attend, and yet not so but that I shall endeavour to prevent them,

10 Gondomar, Diego Sarmiento de Acuña, Count (conde) de (1567–1626); Gondomar’s diplomatic fame rests largely on two missions to England (1613–18 and 1620–22). The chief objective of his ﬁ rst mission was to persuade James I., to abandon his alliance with France and the Protestant countries on the Continent and to form an alliance with Catholic Spain. His courtly manners and keen intellect, as well as his tantalizing offers of the Spanish infanta as James’s daughter- in-law, gained him great inﬂ uence with the English King; on occasion he could even dictate royal policy. His power over James, coupled with his pro-Catholic attitudes, gained him the hostility of the English public. The dramatist Thomas Middleton made him the hero-villain (the Black Knight) of his play A Game at Chaess (1625), which was suppressed. At the height of his unpopularity in 1622, Gondomar was recalled to Spain and there made a member of the Council of State—Encyclopædia Britannica 11 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 12 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 412 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals by my care of your good. And so I commend you to God’s goodness. Your most loving and assured friend and son. Fra. Bacon. C.s.

Ned Sherburne applies himself for position in my service; should his other position as ﬁ nancial agent to Dudley Carleton not collide with his present position he requests, I gladly shalt accept. But to continue: upon my ceremonial presentation of this honour, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, it would be misleading to not mention that Jacob Augustus de Thou, splendour of France and Prince of historians in our times, for whom I am obliged to lament, hath died. But, I make my solemn proceed to Westminster Hall, in this order: Scribes and lesser ofﬁ cials of the Chancery; students of the law; my servants, the Sergeant at Arms, and bearer of the Great Seal, on foot; I my self on horseback, in a purple satin gown, betwixt the Lord Treasurer, and Lord Privy Seal; Earls, Barons, and Privy Councellors; The nobles thrust themselves in here; Judges, who are appointed a place next after the Privy Councellors. The Treasurer and the Keeper of the Privy Seal take oath, as the Crown Clerk reads it out.13 John Chamberlain at quill and paper writes thus: “We came to town from Ware Park after the old manner the day before the term, and the rather to see the new Lord Keeper ride in pomp to Westminster as he did the next day accompanied by most from the Council and nobility about this town, with other gallants to the number of more than 200 horses besides the Judges and Inns of Court; there was a great deal more bravery and better show of horse than was expected in the King’s absence, but both Queen and Prince sent all their followers, and his other friends did their best to honour him.” Drunk by force, I take my place in Chancery, which I hold only from the King’s grace and favour, and Buckingham’s friendship.

To the Right Honourable, the Chancellor of All England, Francis Bacon Much owes to thee O Bacon, the worshipful art of poetry In connection with that book learned and very clever, Which remains inscribed Veterum Sapientia; And through all the ages it will endure a work of your fame; And although many writings of yours make you renowned I shall candidly confess In this (work) your wisdom to my mind appears with elegance and learning Thomas Campion author of Hymns in Praise of Neptune for the Gesta Grayorum

13 (a) William Camden’s Diaries (b) Baconiana, 1679 Lochithea 413

There is much ado, and a great deal of world. I am glad to see that the King’s choice was so generally approved, and that I have so much interest in men’s good wills and good opinions, because it maketh me the fi tter instrument to do my master service and my friend also. I bid all the judges to dinner, which was not used to be, and entertain them in a private withdrawing chamber with the Learned Counsel. When the feast passes, I come amongst them, and set me down at the end of the table, and pray them to think I was one of them, and but a foreman. I tell them I am weary and therefore must be short, and that I would now speak to them upon two points: whereof the one was, that I would tell them plainly that I was fi rmly persuaded, that the former discords and differences between the Chancery and other Courts were but fl esh and blood, and that now the men were gone the matter was gone; and that for my part as I would not suffer any the least diminution or derogation from the ancient and due power of the Chancery, so if anything should be brought to them at any time touching the proceedings of the Chancery, which did seem to them exorbitant or inordinate, that they should freely and friendly acquaint me with it, and we should soon agree; or in not, we had a master that could easily both discern and rule. At which speech of mine, besides a great deal of thanks and acknowledgment, I did see cheer and comfort in their faces as if it were a new world. The second point, that I let them know how his Majesty at his going gave me charge to call and receive from them the accounts of the circuits, according to his Majesty’s former prescript to be set down in writing; and that I was to transmit the writings themselves to his Majesty, and accordingly as soon as I have received them I will send them to his Majesty. Some two days before I had conference with judges, (not all, but such as I did choose) touching the High Commission, and the extending of the same in some points, which I see I shall be able to dispatch by consent, without his Majesty’s further trouble. I did call upon the committees also for the proceeding in the purging of Sir Edward Coke’s Reports, which I see they go on seriously. Thanks be to God, we have not much to do for matter of Council, and I see now that his Majesty is as well able by his letters to govern England from Scotland, as he was to govern Scotland from England.

An Account of Council Business, & of Other Matters Committed To Me By His Majesty.14 First, for Mayday; at which time there was great apprehension of tumult by prentices, and loose people, there was never such a still. There remedies that did the effect were three. First, the putting in muster of the trained brands and military bands in a brave fashion that way. Next, the laying a straight charge upon the Mayor, and Aldermen for the city, and justices of the peace for the suburbs, that the prentices and others mought go abroad with their ﬂ ags and other gauderies, but without weapon of shot and pique, as they formerly took liberty to do: which charge was exceeding well performed and obeyed. And the last was, that we had according to our warrant dormant, strengthened our commissions of the peace in London and Middlesex with new clauses of Lieutenancy, which as soon as it was known abroad all was quiet by the terror it wrought. This I write, because is maketh

14 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 414 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals good my further assurance I gave his Majesty at his fi rst removes, that all should be quiet, for which I received his thanks. For the Irish affairs, I received this day his Majesty’s letter to the Lords, which we have not yet opened, but shall sit upon them this afternoon. I do not forget, besides the points of State, to put my Lord Treasurer in remembrance, that his Majesty laid upon him the care of the improvement of the revenue of Ireland by all good means, of which I fi nd his Lordship very careful, and I will help him the best I can. The matter of the revenue of the recusants here in England, I purpose to put forward by a conference with my Lord of Canterbury, upon whom the King laid it, and upon Secretary Winwood; and because it is matter of the Exchequer, with my Lord Treasurer and Mr. Chancellor, and after to take the assistance of Mr. Attorney, and the Learned Counsel, and when we have put it in a frame to certify his Majesty. The business of the pirates is, I doubt not, by this time come to his Majesty upon the letters of us the Commissioners, whereof I took special care; and I must say I fi nd Mr. Vice- Chamberlayn a good able man with his pen. But to speak of the main business, which is the match with Spain, the King knows my mind by a former letter, that I would be glad it proceeded with an united Counsel; not but that votes and thoughts are to be free: but yet after a King hath resolved all men ought to cooperate, and neither to be active nor much loquutive in oppositum; especially in a case where a few dissenting from the rest may hurt the business in foro famæ.

And so much for council business. I have now entered into possession of York House15 and proceedeth in embellishing it; my preparation amount to 1.000 marks at least, which is more than hath been laid out by all the tenants that have been in it. I receiveth the lease for York House from the Archbishop of York, Tobie Matthew’s father.16 The season termi- nates by offering to Mr. Maxey, prepresenter of the rectory of Frome St. Quinton, with the chapel of Evershot in Dorsetshire, a sum of £18 in the King’s books, and in a good country.

15 Lord Campbell forwards the following on York House in a footnote on p. 134: “York House having been the residence of so many Chancellors and Lord Keepers, and being so often mentioned, some further account of it may please the curious reader. The see of York being deprived to its ancient inn by Wolsey’s cession of Whitehall to Henry VIII., Heath, Archbishop of York and Chancellor, purchased a piece of land and certain old buildings between the river Thames and the Strand, near where Villiers Street now stands; there he erected York House, in which he resided, and which, under leases from successive Archbishops of York, was occupied by almost all the holders of the Great Seal who succeeded him down to Lord Bacon. The hall was ﬁ tted as a court for business in the afternoons and out of term, and it contained various accommoda- tions for the Chancellor’s ofﬁ cers. Coming by exchange to the Crown after the fall of Bacon, it was granted to Buckingham. Being seized as forfeited by the Long Parliament, it was granted to Lord Fairfax, but reverting to the second Duke of Buckingham, he sold it for building, and there were erected upon it “George Street,” “Villiers Street,” “Duke Street” and “Buckingham Street,” which, with “Of Alley”, still preserve his name and title, the lines of Pope being a lasting record of his infamy.” 16 See A. Chambers Bunten: Sir Thomas Meautys, Secretary to Lord Bacon, 1918 Lochithea 415

I have thought good to make offer to Mr. Maxey; the rather that he is of Trinity College, and my purpose is to make choice of men rather by care and inquiry, than by their own suits and commendatory letters.17 An excellent event fi nds me: my letter to my niece18 touching her marriage leaveth thus: “Good niece. Amongst your other virtues I know there wanteth not in you a mind to hearken to the advice of your friends; and therefore you will give me leave to move you again more seriously than before in the match with Mr. Comptroller.19 The state wherein you now are is to be preferred before marriage, or changed for marriage, not simply the one or the other, but according as by God’s providence the offers of marriage are more or less fi t to be embraced. This gentleman is religious, a person of honour, being Councillor of State, a great offi cer, and in very good favour with his Majesty. He is of years and health fi t to be comfortable to you, and to free you of burdensome cares. He is of good means and a wise and provident man, and of a loving and excellent good nature, and as I fi nd, hath set his affection upon you; so as I foresee you may sooner change your mind, which as you told me is not yet toward marriage, than fi nd so happy a choice. I hear he is willing to visit you before his going into France, which by the King’s commandment is to be within some ten days; and I could wish you use him kindly and with respect. His return out of France is intended before Michaelmas. God direct you, and be with you. I rest as your very loving uncle, and assured friend.” I am informed that Chamberlain hath writ thus: “The Lord Keeper has been this fortnight at Gorhambury, and means to continue there a fortnight or three weeks longer.” What is annoying is of his informants being correct. I inwardly used to cool and condense my spirits from this fl ood of business of justice that did hitherto wholly possess me with nitre, which I would have dissolved in Malmsey, or Greek wine, and so the smell of the wine taken; or if you would have it more forcible, pour of it upon a fi re-pan, well heated, as they do rose-water and vinegar. Then, to interchange nitre every other two days, with the juice of pomegranates expressed, with a little cloves, and rind of citron.20 I am also informed that near the castle of Catie, and by the wells of Assan, in the land of Idumea, a great part of the way you would think the sea were near at hand, though it be a good distance off: and it is nothing but the shining of the nitre upon the sea sands; such abundance of nitre the shores there do put forth.21 My rest is well deserved but sees a quarrel grown up between Edward Coke, the former Justice, and his wife, about the betrothal of their daughter to John Villiers’ brother the Earl of Buckingham; also an altercation of my in-laws as Chamberlain doth state: “There be great wars betwixt Sir John and his Lady, who sues him in the High Commission; where, by his own willfulness, she hath some advantage of him and keeps him in prison. But the Lord Keeper deals very honourable in the matter, which, though he could not

17 Basil Brown: Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921 courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) 18 The daughter of his half-brother 19 Sir Thomas Edmondes 20 (a) Spedding: Works, vol. v, 1862 (b) Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol. i. century x. (930) (c) Francis Bacon: Physiological and Medical Remains 21 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, century viii. (772) 416 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals compound being referred to him, yet he carries himself indifferently that he wishes her to yield, and tells her plainly and publicly that she must look for no countenance from him as long as she follows this course.” Indeed, my letter to Lady Hatton leaves soon after:

Madam. Seeing these people speak no language but thunder and lightning, accounting this their cheapest and best way to work upon you, I would with patience prepare myself to their extremities, and study to defend the breaches by which to their advantage they suppose to come in upon me, and henceforth quit the ways of pacifi cation and composition, heretofore and unseasonably endeavoured, which, in my opinion, lie most open to trouble, scandal, and danger; wherefore I will briefl y set down their objections, and such answers to them as I conceive proper. The fi rst is, you conveyed away your daughter from her father. Answer. I had cause to provide for her quiet. Secretary Winwood threatening that she should be married from me in spite of my teeth, and Sir Edward Cook daily tormenting the girl with discourses tending to bestow her against her liking, which he said she was to submit to his; besides, my daughter daily complained, and sought to me for help; whereupon, as heretofore I had accustomed, I bestowed her apart at my cousin-German’s house for a few days, for her health and quiet, till my own business for my estate were ended. Sir Edward Coke never asked me where she was, no more than at other times, when at my placing she had been a quarter of a year from him, as the year before with my sister Burley. Second. That you endeavoured to bestow her, and to bind her to my Lord of Oxford without her knowledge and consent. Upon this subject a lawyer, by way of invective, may open his mouth wide, and anticipate every hearer’s judgment by the rights of a father; this, dangerous in the precedent to others; to which, nevertheless, this answer may be justly returned. Answer. My daughter, as aforesaid, terrifi ed with her father’s threats and hard usage, and pressing me to fi nd some remedy from this violence intended, I did compassionate her condition, and bethought myself of this contract to my Lord of Oxford, if so she liked, and thereupon I gave it to her to peruse and consider by herself, which she did; she liked it, cheerfully writ it out with her own hand, subscribed it, and returned it to me; wherein I did nothing of my own will, but followed hers, after I saw she was so averse to Sir Thomas Villiers, that she voluntarily and deliberately protested that of all men living she would never have him, nor could ever fancy him for a husband. Secondly. By this I put her under no new way, nor into any other than her father had heretofore known and approved; for he saw such letters as my Lady of Oxford had writ to me thereabouts; he never forbade it; he never disliked it; only he said they were then too young, and there was time enough for the treaty. Lochithea 417

Thirdly. He always left his daughter to my disposing and my bringing up; knowing that I purposed her my fortune and whole estate, and as upon these reasons he left her to my cares, so he eased himself absolutely of her, never meddling with her, neglecting her, and caring nothing for her. The Third. That you counterfeited a treaty from my Lord of Oxford to yourself. Answer. I know it not counterfeit; but be it so, to whose injury? If to my Lord of Oxford’s (for no man else is therein interested), it must be either in honour or in freehold. Read the treaty; it proves neither! For it is only a complement; it is no engagement presently nor futurely; besides the law shows what forgery is; and to counterfeit a private man’s hand, nay a magistrate’s, makes not the fault but the cause: wherefore, secondly, the end justiﬁ es—at the least, excuses the fact; for it was only to hold up my daughter’s mind to her own choice and liking: for her eyes only, and for no other’s, that she might see some retribution, and thereby with the more constancy endure her imprisonment, having this only antidote to resist the poison of that place, company, and conversation; myself and all her friends barred from her, and no person or speech admitted to her ear, but such as spoke Sir Thomas Villiers’ language. The fourth. That you plotted to surprise your daughter to take her away by force, to the breach, of the King’s peace and particular commandment, and for that purpose had assembled a number of desperate fellows, whereof the consequence might have been dangerous; and the affront to the King was the greater that such a thing was offered, the King being forth of the Kingdom, which, by example, might have drawn on other assemblies to more dangerous attempts. This ﬁ eld is large for a plentiful babbler. Answer. I know no such matter, neither in any place was there such assembly; true it is I spoke to Turner to provide me some tall fellows for the taking a possession for me, in Lincolnshire, of some lands Sir William Mason had lately disseised me; but be it they were assembled and convoked to such an end, what was done? Was any such thing attempted? Were they upon the place? Kept they the heath or the highways by ambuscades? Or was any place, any day, appointed for a rendezvous? No, no such matter; but something was intended: and I pray you what says the law of such a single intention, which is not within the view or notice of the law? Beside, who intended this, the mother? And wherefore? Because she was unnaturally and barbarously secluded from her daughter, and her daughter forced against her will, contrary to her vow and liking, to the will of him she disliked; nay, the laws of God, of nature, of man, speak for me, and cry out upon them. But they had a warrant from the King’s order from the commissioners to keep my daughter in their custody; yet neither this warrant nor the commissioners’ did prohibit the mother coming to her, but contrarily allowed her; then by the same authority might she get to her daughter, that Sir Edward Cook had used to keep her from her daughter; the husband having no power, warrant, or permission from God, the King, or the law, to sequester the mother from her own child, she only endeavouring the child’s good, with the child’s liking, and to her preferment; and he, his private end against the child’s liking, without care of her preferment; which differing respects, as they justify the mother in all, so condemn they the father as a transgressor of the rules of nature, and, as a perverter of his rights, as a father and a husband, to the hurt both of child and wife. 418 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Lastly, if recrimination could lessen the fault, take this in the worst sense, and naked of all the considerable circumstances it hath, what is this, nay, what had the executing of this intention been comparatively with Sir Edward Cook’s most notorious riot, committed at my Lord of Arguyl’s house, when, without constable or warrant, associated with a dozen fellows well weaponed, without cause being beforehand offered, to have what he would, he took down the doors of the gate-house and of the house itself, and tore the daughter in that barbarous manner from the mother, and would not suffer the mother to come near her; and when he was before the Lords of the Council to answer this outrage, he justifi ed it to make it good by law, and that he feared the face of no greatness; a dangerous word for the encouragement of all notorious and rebellious malefactors; especially from him that had been the Chief Justice of the law; and of the people reputed the oracle of the law; and a most dangerous bravado cast in the teeth and face of the state in the King’s absence, and therefore most considerable for the maintenance of authority and the quiet of the land; for if it be lawful for him with a dozen to enter any man’s house thus outrageously for any right to which he pretends, it is lawful for any man with one hundred, nay, with fi ve hundred, and consequently with as many as he draw together, to do the same, which may endanger the safety of the King’s person, and the peace of the Kingdom. The fi fth, that you having certifi ed the King you had received an engagement from my Lord of Oxford, and the King commanding you, upon your allegiance, to come and bring it to him, or to send it him; or not having it, to signify his name who brought it, and where he was; you refused all, by which you doubled and trebled a high contempt to his Majesty. Answer. I was so sick on the week before, for the most part I kept my bed, and even that instant I was so weak as I was not able to rise from it without help, nor to endure the air; which indisposition and weakness my two physicians, Sir William Paddy and Dr. Atkins, can affi rm true; which so being, I hope his Majesty will graciously excuse the necessity, and not impose a fault, whereof I am not guilty; and for the sending it, I protest to God I had it not; and for telling the parties, and where he is, I most humbly beseech his sacred Majesty, in his great wisdom and honour, to consider how unworthy a part it were in me to bring any man into trouble, from which I am so far from redeeming him as I can no way relieve myself, and therefore humbly crave his Majesty, in his princely consideration of my distressed condition, to forgive me this deservedness, proceeding from that just sense, and the rather, for that the law of the land in civil causes, as I am informed, no way tieth me thereunto. Fra. Bacon, c. s.

To Buckingham: My very good Lord. I shall write to your Lordship of a business, which you may think to concern my self; but I do think it concerneth your Lordship much more. For as for me, as my judgment is not so weak to think it can do me any hurt, so my love to you is so strong, as I would prefer the good of you and yours before mine own particular. It seemeth Secretary Winwood hath offi ciously busied him self to make a match between your brother and Sir Edward Coke’s daughter: and, as we hear, he doth it rather to make a faction, than Lochithea 419 out of any great affection to your Lordship. It is true, he hath the consent of Sir Edward Coke, as we hear, upon reasonable conditions of your brother, and yet no better than without question may be found in some other matches. But the mother’s consent is not had, nor the young gentlewoman’s, who expecteth a great fortune from her mother, which without her consent, is endangered. This match, out of my faith and freedom towards your Lordship, I hold very inconvenient both for your brother and your self. First, he shall marry into a disgraced house, which in reason of state is never held good. Next, he shall marry into a troubled house of man and wife, which in religion and Christian discretion is disliked. Thirdly, your Lordship will go near to lose all such friends as are adverse to Sir Edward Coke (my self only except, who out of a pure love and thankfulness shall ever be fi rm to you). And lastly and chiefl y (believe it), it will greatly weaken and distract the King’s service; for though, in regard of the King’s great wisdom and depth, I am persuaded those things will not follow which they imagine, yet opinion will do a great deal of harm, and cast the King back, and make him relapse into those inconvenience which are now well on to be recovered. Therefore my advice is, and your Lordship shall do your self a great deal of honour, if, according to religion and the Law of God, your Lordship will signify unto my Lady your mother, that your desire is that the marriage be not pressed or proceeded in without the consent of both parents; and so either break it altogether, or defer any further dealing in it, till your Lordship’s return: and this the rather, for that (besides the inconvenience of the matter itself) it hath been carried so harshly and inconsiderately by Secretary Winwood, as for doubt that the father should take away the maiden by force, the mother, to get the start, hath conveyed her away secretly; which is ill of all sides. Thus hoping your Lordship will not only accept well, but believe my faithful advice, who by my great experience in the world must needs see further than your Lordship can, I ever rest, your Lordship’s true and most devoted friend and servant. Fra. Bacon, c. s.

To the King.22 It may please your most excellent Majesty. I think it agreeable to my duty, and the great obligation, wherein I am tied to your Majesty, to be freer than other men in giving your Majesty faithful counsel, while things are in passing; and more bound than other men in doing your commandments, when your resolution is settled, and made known to me. I shall therefore most humbly crave pardon from your Majesty, if in plainness and no less humbleness, I deliver to your Majesty my honest, and dissinteressed opinion, in the business of the match of Sir John Villiers, which I take to be magnum in parvo: preserving always the laws and duties of a ﬁ rm friendship to my Lord of Buckingham, whom I will never cease to love, and to whom I have written already, but have not heard yet from his Lordship.

22 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 420 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

But ﬁ rst, I have three suits to make to your Majesty, hoping well, you will grant them all. The ﬁ rst is, that if there be any merit in drawing on that match; our Majesty would bestow the thanks not upon the zeal of Sir Edward Coke to please your Majesty, not upon the eloquent persuasions or pragmaticals of Mr. Secretary Winwood; but upon them, that carrying your commandments and directions with strength and justice, in the matter of the Governor of Diepe;23 in the matter of Sir Robert Rich; and in the matter of protecting the Lady, according to your Majesty’s commandment; have so humbled Sir Edward Coke, as he seeketh now that with submission, which (as your Majesty knoweth) before he rejected with scorn: for this is the true orator, that hath persuaded this business; as I doubt not by your Majesty in your excellent wisdom doth easily discern. My second suit is, that your Majesty would not think me so pusillanimous, as that I, that when I was but Mr. Bacon, had ever (though your Majesty’s favour) good reason at Sir Edward Coke’s hands, when he was at the greatest; should now that your Majesty of your great goodness, hath placed me so near your chair, (being as I hope by God’s grace, and your instructions, made a servant according to your heart and hand) fear him or take umbrage of him, in respect of mine own particular. My third suit is, that if your Majesty be resolved the match shall go on, after you have heard my reasons to the contrary, I may receive therein your particular will and commandments from your self; that I may conform my self thereunto; imagining with my self (though I will not wager on women’s minds) that I can prevail more with the mother, than any other man. For if I should be requested in it from my Lord of Buckingham, the answers of a true friend ought to be, that I had rather go against his mind than against his good: but your Majesty I must obey:—and besides I shall conceive that your Majesty out of your great wisdom and depth, doth see those things which I see not. Now therefore, not to hold your Majesty with many words, (which do but drown matter) let me most humbly desire your Majesty, to take into your royal consideration, that the State is at this time not only in good quiet and obedience, but in good affection and disposition. Your Majesty’s prerogative and authority having risen some just degrees above the horizon more than heretofore; which hath dispersed vapours: your judges are in good temper; your justices of peace (which is the body of the gentlemen of England) grow to be loving and obsequious, to be weary of the humour or rustling: all mutinous spirits grow to be a little poor, and to draw in their horns; and not the less for your Majesty’s disauctor- izing the man I speak of. Now then I reasonably doubt, that if there be but an opinion of his coming in, with the strength of such an alliance, it will give a turn and relapse in men’s minds, into the former state of things, hardly to be holpen, to the great weakening of your Majesty’s service.

23 “All that I have seen relating to the difference between the Governor of Diepe, and Sir Edward Coke, is contained in a letter of Secretary Winwood’s to my Lord of Buckingham dated the 29th of June this year [1617], and in these words: ‘Sir Edward Coke hath consigned into the hands of the Lords £2.400 for the satisfaction of the French Ambassador, in the cause which concerneth the Governor of Diepe.’”—ibid., Lochithea 421

Again, your Majesty may have perceived, that as far as it was fi t for me in modesty to advise, I was ever for a Parliament, (which seemeth to me to be cardo rerum or fumma fum- marum for the present occasions) but this my advice was ever conditional; that your Majesty should go to a Parliament with a Council united and not distracted: and that your Majesty will give me leave never to expect if that man come in. Not for any difference of mine own; (for I am omnibus omnia for your Majesty’s service) but because he is by nature unsociable, and by habit popular, and too old now to take a new ply. And men begin already to collect, yea and to conclude, that he that raiseth such a smoke to get in, will set all on fi re when he is in. It may please your Majesty, now I have said, I have done: and as I think I have done a duty not unworthy the fi rst year of your last high favour, I most humbly pray your Majesty to pardon me, if in any thing, I have erred: for my errors shall always be supplied by obedience; and so I conclude with my prayers, for the happy preservation of your Majesty’s person and estate. Your Majesty’s most humble, bound, and most devoted servant. Fra Bacon. c.s.

This same day, Lady Hatton and Lord Holles, he hath more to do than the ovens in Christmas, come in great haste to seek my assistance, but could not have instant access to me for my people tell them I am laid at rest being not well. Then, Lady Hatton desireth she mought be the fi rst that speak with me after I was stirring. My page fulfi ls her desire, and offers her a chair to rest herself in, and there leaves her alone: but not long after, she rises up and bounces ’gainst my chamber door, and awakens me. Affrighted, I call my servants who thrust in with her. She desires I pardon her boldness, but she is like a cow that hath lost her calf, and so justifi es and pacifi es my anger. After much delay, Buckingham and his Majesty write to me on the matter:

My Lord. If your man had been addressed only to me, I should have been careful to have procured him a more speedy dispatch: but now you have found another way of address, I am excused; and since you are grown weary of employing me, I can be no otherwise in being employed. In this business of my brother’s that you over trouble your self with, I understand from London by some of my friends that you have carried your self with much scorn and neglect both toward my self and friends; which if it prove true I blame not you but my self, who was ever your Lordship’s assured friend. G. Buckingham.

Right Trusty And Well-Beloved Counsellor, We Greet You Well. Although our approach doth now begin to be near London, and that there doth not appear any great necessity of answering our last letter since we are so shortly to be at home: yet we have thought good to make some observations to you upon the same, that you may not err by mistaking our meaning. The fi rst observation we are to make is, that whereas you would invert the second sense wherein we took your magnum in parvo, in accounting it 422 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals to be made magnum by their streperous carriage that were for the match, we cannot but show you your mistaking therein. For every wrong must be judged by the fi rst violent and wrongous ground whereupon it proceeds, and was not the thefteous stealing away of the daughter from her own father the fi rst ground whereupon all this great noise hath since proceeded? For the ground of her getting again came upon a lawful and ordinary warrant subscribed by one of our Council for redress of the former violence, and except the father of a child might be proved to be with lunatic or idiot, we never read in any law that either it could be lawful for any creature to steal his child from him or that it was matter of noise and streperous carriage for him to hunt for the recovery of his child again. Our next observation is, that whereas you protest of your affection to Buckingham, and thereafter confess that it is in some sort parent-like, yet after that you have praised his natural parts, we will not say that you throw all down by a direct imputation upon him, but we are sure you do not deny to have had a greater jealousy of his discretion than (so far as we conceive) he ever deserved at your or any man’s hands; for you say that you were afraid that the height of his fortune might make him too secure, and so as a looker-on you might sometime see more than a gamester. Now we know not how to interpret this in plain English otherwise than that you were afraid that the height of his fortune might make him misknow himself. And surely if that be your parent-like affection toward him he hath no obligation to you for it. And for our part, besides our own proof that we fi nd him furthest from that vice of any courtier that ever he had so near about us, so do we fear that you shall prove the only phœ- nix in that jealousy of all the Kingdom; for we would be very sorry that the world should apprehend that conceit of him; but we cannot conceal that we think it was least your part of any to enter into that jealousy of him, whom of we have heard you oft speak in a contrary style. And as for that error of yours which he lately palliated whereof you seem to pretend ignorance, the times is so short since you commended to him one [Mr. Lowder] to be of the Barons of our Exchequer in Ireland, as we cannot think you to be so short of memory as to have forgotten how far you undertook in that business before acquainting us with it, what a long journey you made the poor man undertake, together with the slight recommendation you sent of him, which rave us to those straits that both the poor man had been undone and your credit a little blasted if Buckingham had not by his importunity made us both grant your more than suit (for you had already acted a part of it), and likewise run a hazard of the hindrance of our own service, by preferring a person to so important a place whom you so lightly recommended. Our third observation is upon the point of your opposition to this business, wherein you either do or at least would seem to mistake us a little. For fi rst, whereas you excuse yourself of the oppositions you made against Sir Edward Coke at the Council Table both for that and other causes, we never took upon us such a patrociny of Sir Edward Coke, as if he were a man not to be meddled withal in any case, for whatsoever you did against him by our employment and commandment, we ever allowed it and still do for good service on your part; de bonis operibus non lapidamus vos; but whereas you talk of the riot and violence committed by him, we wonder you make no mention of the riot and violence of them that stale away his daughter, which was the fi rst ground of all that noise, as we said before; for a man may be compelled by manifest wrong beyond his patience, and the fi rst breach of that quietness which hath ever been kept since the beginning of our journey was made by them that committed the theft. And for your laying the burden of your opposition upon the whole Council, we meddle not with that question; Lochithea 423 but the opposition which we justly fi nd fault with you, was the refusal to sign a warrant for the father to the recovery of his child, clad with those circumstances (as is reported) of your slight carriage to Buckingham’s mother when she repaired to you upon so reasonable an errand. What further opposition you made in that business, we leave it to the due trial in the own time. But whereas you would distinguish of times, pretending ignorance either of our meaning or his when you made your opposition, that would have served for a reasonable excuse not to have furthered such a business till you had been fi rst employed in it, but that can serve for no excuse of crossing anything that so nearly concerned on whom you profess such friendship unto. We will not speak of obligation, for surely we think even in good manners you had reason not to have crossed anything wherein you had heard his name used, till you had heard from him; for if you had willingly given your consent and had to the recovery of the young gentlewoman, and then written both to us and to him what inconvenience appear to you to be in such a match, that had been the part indeed of a true servant to us and a true friend to him; but fi rst to make an opposition and then to give advice by way of friendship, is to make the plough to go before the horse. Thus leaving all the particulars of your carriage in this business to the own proper time, which is ever the discoverer of truth, we commend you to God. Given under our signet at Nantwich, in the fi fteenth year of our reign of Great Britain. James R.

Upon his Majesty’s return from Scotland, Coke is well received; Yelverton Sendeth me his privy report of the situation:

My Most Worthy And Honourable Lord. I dare not think my journey lost, because I have with much joy seen the face of my master, the King, though more clouded towards me than I looked for. Sir Edward Coke hath not forborne by any engine to heave both at your honour and at my self: and he works by the weightiest instrument, the Earl of Buckingham, who as I see sets him as close to him as his shirt, the Earl speaking in Sir Edward’s phrase, and as it were menacing in his spirit. My Lord, I emboldened my self to assay the temper of my Lord of Buckingham to my self, and found it very fervent, misled by misinformation which yet I fi nd he embraced as truth, and did nobly and plainly tell me he would not secretly bite, but whosoever had had any interest or tasted of the opposition to his brother’s marriage he would as openly oppose them to their faces, and they should discern what favour he had by the power he would use. In the passage between him and me, I stood with much confi dence upon these grounds: fi rst, that neither your Lordship nor my self had any way opposed, but many ways had furthered the fair passage to the marriage. Secondly, that we only wished the manner of Sir Edward’s proceedings to have been more temperate, and more nearly resembling the Earl’s sweet disposition. Thirdly, that the chiefest check in the business was Sir Edward him self, who listened to no advice, who was so transported with passion, as he purposely declined the even way which your Lordship and the rest of the Lords left both him his Lady and his daughter in. Fourthly, I was bold to stand upon my ground, and so I said I knew 424 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals your Lordship would, that these were slanders, which were, brought him of us both; and that it stood not with his honour to give credit to them. After I had passed these straits with the Earl, leaving him leaning still to the fi rst relation of envious and odious adversaries, I adventured to approach his Majesty, who graciously gave me his hand to kiss, but intermixed withal that I deserved not that favour, if three or four things were true which he had to object against me. I was bold to crave his princely justice, fi rst to hear, then to judge, which he graciously granted, and said he wished I could clear my self. I answered, I would not appeal to his mercy in any of the points, but would endure the severest censure if any of them were true; whereupon he said he would reserve his judgment till he heard me, which could not be then, his other occupations pressed him so much. All this was in the hearing of the Earl; and I protest I think the confi dence in my innocency made me depart half justifi ed, for I likewise kissed his Majesty’s hand at his departure, and though out of his grace he commanded my attendance to Warwick, yet upon my suit he easily inclined to give me the choice to wait on him at Windsor or at London. Now, my Lord, give me leave out of all my affections that shall ever serve you, to intimate touching your self: First, that every courtier is acquainted that the Earl professeth openly against you as forgetful of his kindness, and unfaithful to him in your love and in your actions. Second, that he returneth the shame upon him self, in not listening to counsel that dissuaded his affection from you, and not to mount you so high, not forbearing in open speech (as divers have told me, and this bearer, your gentleman, hath heard also) to tax you, as if it were an inveterate custom with you, to be unfaithful to him as you were to the Earls of Essex24 and Somerset. Third, that it is too common in every man’s mouth in Court, that your greatness shall be abated, and as your tongue hath been as a razor to some, so shall theirs be to you. Fourth, that there is laid up for you, to make your burden the more grievous, many petitions to his Majesty against you. My Lord, Sir Edward Coke, as if he were already upon his wings, triumphs exceedingly; hath much private conference with his Majesty; and in public doth offer himself and thrust upon the King with as great boldness of speech as heretofore. It is thought and much feared that at Woodstock he will again be recalled to the Council Table; for neither are the Earl’s eyes nor his thoughts ever off him. Sir Edward Coke with much audacity affi rmeth his daughter to be most deeply in love with Sir John Villiers, that the contract pretended with the Earl is counterfeit, and the letter also that is pretended to come from the Earl. My noble Lord, if I were worthy being the meanest of all to interpose my weakness, I would humbly desire, fi rst, that your Lordship fail not to be with his Majesty at Woodstock; the sight of you will fright some. Second, that you single not your self from the other Lords, but justify all the proceedings as all your joint acts; and I little fear but you pass conqueror. Third, that you retort the clamour and noise in this business upon Sir Edward Coke, by

24 Spedding: “It is a singular thing that this is the only allusion to the old charge of ingratitude to Essex—made by a contemporary, during Bacon’s life, and after the publication of his Apology— that I have yet met with.”—See Life, vol ii, p. 263 Lochithea 425 the violence of his carriage. Fourth, that you seem not dismayed, but open your self bravely and conﬁ dently, wherein you can excel all subjects; by which means I know you shall amaze some and daunt others. I have abused your Lordship’s patience long, but my duty and affection towards your Lordship shall have no end; but I will still wish you honour greater and rest myself. Your honour’s servant. Henry Yelverton Postscript: I beseech your Lordship to burn this letter.

Of such as I have any way offended, Tobie Matthew hath come last night, with Master Secretary, who called upon Chamberlain, out of the garden into his gallery to salute Tobie. He used him kindly, and dealt earnestly with him to take the oath of allegiance; but as far as I perceive it was lost labour, though he told that without doing it he is verily of opinion that the King will not endure him long here. But perhaps he presumes upon my favour, which indeed is very great now at ﬁ rst, if it continues, for he lodgeth here in York House and shall carry him the next week along with me to Gorhambury for rest over a fortnight.25 My distaste with Winwood continues: he be a boisterous secretary. I am wont to answer her Majesty on her concern in this matter: “Madam, I can say no more but he is proud and I am proud.” It was from his Majesty’s lips that I was told that: “You may perhaps think that he [Winwood] hath informed these and these things against you, but I assure you in the word of a Prince, that neither by word nor writing did he ever suggest aught to any particular man’s prejudice, either to me or to Buckingham, as he is here ready to protest before you.”26 Amongst these disestablishmentarianisms, I am scandalized upon a banquet held in my honour and the justices of the Kingdom, as were entertained at Westminster School; the diet of extremities to which had I not accounted in taking of my pills, I would not have survived the evening. A secret for the stomach dear Reader: take lignum aloës in gross shavings, steep them in sack, or alicant, changed twice, half an hour at a time, till the bitterness be drawn forth. Then take the shavings forth, and dry them in the shade, and beat them to an excellent powder. Of that powder, with the syrup of citrons, make a small pill, to be taken before supper.27 I should be most tempted upon one more honour bestowed upon me, as the Second Prince of Purpoole at Gray’s Inn; to which may be added, that a certain Baron Clifton hath given into custody at the Tower of London; this for he saith that he regretted not stabbing my person when I had pronounced sentence ’gainst him.28

25 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 26 ibid., 27 Francis Bacon: Physiological and Medical Remains 28 (a) William Camden’s Diaries (b) R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734: In October 1618 Baron Clifton will die by his own hand 426 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

To the Marquis of Buckingham: My very good Lord. Mr. Chancellor of the Exchequer hath signiﬁ ed to me this day, that yesterday his Majesty called him to his coach and said to him, that one that had used ill speech of me should be called before me, and make his submission to me; and thereupon be called before the Council, and receive a sharp reprehension and so be inlarged. And Mr. Chancellor could not tell me who the person was, but after by some letter he received from my Lord Clifton, and speech with a man of his, he perceived it was he. I pray your Lordship in humbleness to let his Majesty know, that I little fear the Lord Clifton, but I much fear the example, that it will animate Rufﬁ ns and Rodomonti extremely against the seats of justice, (which are his Majesty’s own seats) yea and against all authority and greatness, if this pass without public censure and example; it having gone already so far as that the person of a Baron hath been committed to the Tower. The punishment it may please his Majesty to remit, and I shall not formally but heartily intercede for him, but an example (setting my self aside) I wish for terror of persons, that may be more dangerous than he, towards the least judge of the Kingdom. Therefore it may please his Majesty to speak of it with my self and my Lords when he cometh next, and in the mean time, I will command from his Majesty, the Master of the Rolls and Mr. Attorney, who were appointed by the table to examine him, to stay. God ever prosper you. Your Lordship’s true friend and devoted servant. Fra. Bacon. Canc.

Candidates for the Secretaryship now stand: Wotton, Sir John Bennet, Sir Humphrey May, Sir Robert Naunton and Dudley Carleton. The latter seems in good hopes to gain the position; but he is a stranger to Buckingham who favours his own men those of one Sir Humphrey May and of one Sir Robert Naunton. To be more pure on purest things, the tobacco plantations in the colony of Virginia are in need of hands; his Majesty grants royal charters toward Guinea and Benin supplying slaves for the cause;29 few words need be added, only Tobie Matthew gives writ to the following dedication to Cosmo de’ Medici of an Italian translation of my Essays and my work De Sapientia Veterum.30 And soon later, Tobie suffers his second exile from England. What needed he to have done more than to ﬂ y back to his friends across a river?

Dedication to Cosmo de’ Medici. By Tobie Matthew Et posso dir con verità (per haver io havute l’ honore di pratticarlo molti anni, et quando era in minoribus, et hora quando sta in colmo et ﬁ ore della sua grandezza) di non haver mai scoperto in lui animo di vendetta, per qualsivoglia aggravio che se gli fosse fatto; nè manco

29 See Nick Hazlewood’s The Queen’s Slave Traders, 2004 30 Spedding: Works, vol xii. p. 73: “Published in London in 1618, with a dedicatory letter from Tobie Matthew to Cosmo de’ Medici, may be presumed to have been made with Bacon’s sanction; both because Matthew was so intimate a friend, and because it includes one essay which had not then been published, as well as a large extract from the letter to Prince Henry which Bacon had intended to preﬁ x to the edition of 1612, but was prevented by his death.” Lochithea 427 sentito useirgli di bocca parola d’ ingiuria contra veruno, che mi pareses neire da passione contra la tal persona; ma solo (et questo ancora molto scarsamente) per giudicio fattone in sangue freddo. Non è già la sua grandezza quell che io ammiro, ma la sua virtù; non sono li favori fattimi da lui (per inﬁ niti che siano) che mi hanno posto il cuore in questi ceppi et catene in che mi ritrovo; ma si bene il suo procedere in commune; che se egli fosse di conditione inferiore, non potrei manco honorario, e se mi fosse nemico io dovrei con tutto ciò amar et procurar di servirle.

I am now betwixt two cases: case one being ’gainst Sir Thomas Lake, one of the King’s Secretaries of State, his Lady, son, and daughter, the Lady Roos, for being concerned in notoriously defaming the Lady Exeter, for which they are severely fi ned to the King, with damages to the Lady, and imprisonment in the Tower. Sir Thomas, whom the King and others thought to be the least guilty, submitted him self to his Majesty, who pitied his misfortunes, and gave a great character of his abilities, but never admitted him into any place of trust or profi t. Of the second case, it concerneth the Lord Treasurer Suffolk being discharged from his offi ce, and in the next his Lordship, his Lady, and Sir John Bingley are censured for taking of bribes, and defrauding his Majesty; but upon the Earl’s submission, the fi ne of £30.000 is reduce to £7.000.31 Buckingham, being handed letters patent with no investiture, is beyond the expectations of all men created Marquess of Buckingham, for himself and the heirs masculine of his body; witnesses of this event include my self, the Treasurer, the Duke of Lennox, Marquess Hamilton, the Chamberlain, the Earls of Arundel and Montgomery, Vicounts de l’Isle, Wallingford, Fenton and others.32 So great a preparation on my becoming Lord High Chancellor, wherein (besides the title) I have this advantage that is for life, with £600 a year increase. The speech goes I shall be made a Baron, and have the making of another to discharge my debts, which in courtesy I have offered to my eldest brother for £1.000 less than another should give, which he will not accept, mindful perhaps of my father’s motto or posie: mediocria fi rma. Dudley Carleton expressively bids his congratulates for my position. The following day, Sir Robert Naunton, Carleton’s rival in the Secretaryship post becomes Secretary; Sir Humphrey May connects with the Chancellorship of the Duchy of Lancaster. Buckingham’s men get it all.

Francis Bacon’s Speech In Parliament To The Speakers’ Excuse33 If men will not answer law, in this centre of law, they shall be cast out. And therefore, it is proper of you, by all means, with your wisdom and fortitude, to maintain the laws of the Realm: wherein nevertheless, I would not have you head-strong, but heart-strong; and to weigh and remember with yourself, that the twelve judges, of the Realm are as the twelve lions under Salomon’s throne; they must shew their stoutness in elevating and bearing up the throne. To represent unto you, the lines, and portraitures, of a good judge. You should

31 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 32 William Camden’s Diaries 33 Resuscitatio p. 93–94, 1657 428 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals draw your learning, out of your books not out of your brain. You should mix well the freedom of your own opinion with the reverence of the opinion of your fellows. You should continue the studying of your books and not to spend on upon the old stock. You should fear no man’s face; and yet, not turn stoutness into bravery. You should be truly impartial, and not so as men may see affection through fi ne carriage. You be a light to jurors to open their eyes; but not a guide to lead them by the noses. You affect not the opinion of pregnancy and expedition by an impatient and catching, hearing, of the Counsellors at the Bar. Your speech, be with gravity, as one of the sages of the law; and not talkative, nor with impertinent fl ying out to shew learning. Your hands, and the hands of your hands; (I mean, those about you,) be clean, and uncorrupt, from gifts; from meddling in titles; and from serving of turns; be they, of great ones, or small ones. That you contain the jurisdiction of the Court, within the ancient mere-stones, without removing the mark. Lastly, that you carry such a hand, over your Ministers, and Clarks, as that they may rather be in awe of you, then presume upon you. Of this, I truly spread, enlarge, fi t, continue and endure upon my life in law. Fra. Bacon. Canc.

I am here rejoicing with my neighbours the towns’ men of St. Albans for this happy day of August and looking over from the middle months of this season, my polished receipts and expenditures seem stable; bonds mount to £2.000 of which gifts and rewards amount to £80 and of disbursements and payments to the amount of £500.34 A servant of the Spanish Ambassador hath ridden over a child with his coach; much turbulence this causes amongst the vulgar: windows and doors are broken and the Lord Mayor, Sir George Bowles, is brought down to quiet the thousands of angry people. His Majesty requests the matter be sifted to the full; thus appoints Coke as principal Commissioner and enquire why the Lord Mayor allowed the matter to pass.35 A license to Sir Walter Raleigh, Knight, hath been given and others our subjects with him to undertake a voyage to the country of Guiana, where they pretend great hopes and probabilities to make discovery of certain gold mines, for the lawful enriching themselves and these our Kingdoms; wherein we did by express limitation and caution restrain and forbid them and every of them from attempting any act of hostility, wrong, or violence whatsoever upon any of the territories, states, or subjects of any foreign Princes with whom we are in amity, and more peculiarly of those of our dear brother the King of Spain, in respect of his dominions and interests in the continent: all which notwithstanding, we are since informed by a common fame that they or some of them have by an hostile invasion of the town of St. Thome, being under the obedience of the King of Spain, and by killing of divers of the inhabitants thereof his subjects, and after by sacking and burning of the said town, as much as in them for their own party lay, maliciously broken and infringed the

34 (a) Daphne Du Maurier: The Winding Stair Francis Bacon, His Rise and Fall, 1976 (b) George Otto Trevelyan: Life and Letters of Lord Macaulay, 1876: “I am sitting again in Basinghall Street and Basil Montagu is haranguing about Lord Verulam, and the way of inoculating one’s mind with truth; and all this a propose of a lying bankrupt’s balance-sheet.” 35 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 Lochithea 429 peace and amity which that been so happily established and so long inviolably continued between us and the subjects of both our crowns. We have therefore held it fi t, as appertaining nearly to our royal justice and honour, eftsoons to make a public declaration of our own utter mislike and detestation of the said insolences and excesses (if any such have been by any of our subjects committed), and of the better detection and clearing of the very truth of the said common fame, we do hereby straightly charge and require all our subjects whatsoever that have any particular understanding and notice thereof, upon their duty and allegiance which they owe us, immediately after publication of this our pleasure to repair unto some of our Privy Council and to discover and make known unto them their knowledge and understanding concerning the same, under pain of our high displeasure and indignation, that we may thereupon proceed in our princely justice to the exemplary punishment and coercion of all such as shall be convicted of so scandalous and enormous outrages. According to his Majesty’s commandment given unto us, we have, upon divers meetings and conferences, considered what form and manner of proceeding ’gainst Sir Walter Raleigh might best stand with his Majesty’s justice and honour, if it be pleased that the law shall pass upon him. And fi rst, we are of opinion, that Raleigh, being attainted of high treason (which is the highest and last work of law), he cannot be drawn in question judicially for any crime or offense since committed. And therefore we humbly present two forms of proceeding to his Majesty: the one, that together with the warrant to the lieutenant of the Tower, if his Majesty shall so please, for his execution, to publish a narrative in print of his late crimes and offenses; which (albeit his Majesty is not bound to give an account of his actions in these cases to any but only to God alone) we humbly off to his Majesty’s consideration, as well in respect of the great effl uxion of time since his attainder, and of his employment by his Majesty’s commission, as for that his late crimes and offenses are not yet publicly known. The other form (whereunto, if his Majesty so please, we rather incline) is that where his Majesty is so renowned for his justice, it may have such a proceeding as is nearest to legal proceeding; which is, that he be called before the whole body of the Council of State, and principal Judges, in the Court Chamber; and that some of the nobility and gentlemen of quality be admitted to be present to hear the whole proceeding, as in like cases hath been used. His Majesty returneth his response thus:36

Right Trusty And Well Beloved Counsellors, We Greet You Well. We have perused your letter touching the proceeding with Sir Walter Raleigh, in both which courses propounded by you we fi nd imperfection. As fi rst we like not that there should be only a narration set forth in print of his crimes, together with our warrant of his execution. And secondly for the other course of a public calling him before our Council, we think it not fi t, because it would make him too popular, as was found by experiment at the arraignment at Winchester, where by his wit he turned the hatred of men into compassion of him. Secondly it were too great honour to him to have that course to be

36 “The letter is written in the hand of Packer, Buckingham’s secretary, and has no signature or docket. But as it agrees exactly with what followed, we need not doubt that it is a true copy.”— Spedding: Life, vol ii; p. 312 430 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals taken against one of his state which we have observed never to have been used but towards persons of great quality, as namely, the Countess of Shrewsbury and some such. Besides it would make too great a stir to have such sending of advice and directions to and fro as you mention in your letter. We have therefore thought of a middle course, that he be called only before those who have been the examiners of him hitherto, and that the examinations be read, and himself heard, and others confronted with him, who were with him in this action. And that our Attorney and Solicitor be employed to inform against him, touching his acts of hostility, depredation, abuse as well of our commission as of our subjects under his charge, his imposture, attempt of escape, and other his misdemeanours. Only for the French we hold it not ﬁ t that they be named but only by incident, and that very lightly, as that he should have escaped a French bark without drawing them into the crime. And then after the sentence for his execution which hath been thus long suspended, a declaration be presently put forth in print, a warrant being sent down for us to sign for his execution. Wherein we hold the French physician’s confession very material, as also his own and his consorts’ confession, that before they were at the islands he told them his aim was at the ﬂ eet, with his son’s oration when they came to the town, and some touch of his hateful speeches of our person. James R.

Raleigh’s last writ I offer you Reader:

Sir Walter Raleigh’s Farewell To His Lady The Night Before He Was Beheaded, Together With His Advice Concerning Her, And Her Son. Dear Wife, You shall receive my last words in these my last lines; my love I send you that you may keep it when I am dead, and my counsel that you may remember it when I am no more. I would not with my will present you sorrows (dear Besse) let them go to the grave with me, and be buried in the dust. And seeing it is not the will of God that ever I shall see you any more in this life, beare my destruction gently, and with a heart like your self. First, I send you all the thanks which my heart can conceive, or my words express, for your many troubles and cares taken for me, which though they have not taken effect as you wished, yet my debt to you is not less, but I shall never recompense it in this world. Secondly, I beseech you even for the love you bare me living, that you do not hide your self many days, but by your travel seek to help your miserable fortune, and the right of your poor child: your mourning cannot avail me that I am but dust. Thirdly, you shall understand that my Lands were conveyed (bona ﬁ de) to my child, the writings were drawn at mid summer twelve-month, as divers can witness, and I trust that my blood will quench their malice that desire my slaughter, and that they will not seek also to kill you and yours with extreme poverty. Lochithea 431

To what friend to direct you I know not, for all mine have left me in the true time of tyall; most sorry I am (as God knoweth) that being thus surprised with death I can leave you no better estate; I meant you all my Offi ce of wines or that I should purchase by selling it, half my stuff and my jewels, (but some for the boy) but God hath prevented all my determinations; the great God that worketh in all. But if you can live free from want, care for no more, for the rest is but vanity. Love God, and begin betime to repose your self on him, therein shall you fi nd true and everlasting riches and endless comfort: for the rest when you have traveled and wearied your thoughts over all sorts of worldly cogitations, you shall sit down by sorrow in the end. Teach your son also to serve and fear God whilst he is young that the fear of God may grow up with him, then will God be a husband unto you, and a father unto him, a husband and a father that can never be taken from you. Bayly oweth me 1000 pounds. Arion 600 pounds. In Iersie also I have much owing me; the arrerages of the wines will pay your debts. And howsoever (I beseech you for my soul’s sake) pay all poor men when I am gone: no doubt you shall bee sought unto, for the world thinks I was very rich. But take heed of the pretence of men and of their affections, for they last but in honest and worthy men: and no greater misery can befall you in this life, then to become a prey, and after to be despised: I speak it (God knoweth) not to dissuade you from marriage, for that will be best for you, both in respect of God and the world. As for me I am no more yours, nor you mine, death hath cut us asunder, and God hath divided me from the world, and you from me: remember your poor child for his father’s sake that comforted you, and loved you in his happiest times, I sued for my life (But God knows) it was for you and yours that I desired it: for know it (dear wife) that your son is the child of a true man, and who in his own heart despiseth death, and his misshapen and ugly forms. I cannot write much: God knoweth how hardly I stole this time when all were asleep, and it is now time to separate my thoughts from the world. Beg my dead body which living was denied you, and either lay it in Sherborne or in Exeter Church by my father and mother. I can say no more, time and death call me away. The everlasting God, infi nite, powerful, and inscrutable God, that Almighty God which is goodness it self, mercy it self, the true light and life, keep you and yours, and have mercy upon me. Teach me to forgive my persecutors and false accusers, and send me to meet him in his glorious Kingdom. My true wife farewell, God bless my poor boy, pray for me, my true God hold you both in His Arms. Even such is time, which takes in trust Our youth, our age, and all we have, And payes us but with age and dust, Who in the darke and silent grave, 432 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

When we have wandred all our wayes Shuts up the story of our dayes. And from the earth, the grave, and dust, The Lord shall raise me vp, I trust. Walter Ravvleigh. Like Hermite poore in pensive place obscure I mean to end my dayes with endlesse doubt, To waile such woes as time cannot recure, Where none but love shall ever ﬁ nde me out. And at my gates despair shall linger still To let in death when love and fortune will. A Gowne of gray my body shall attire, My staffe of broken hope whereon I stay Of late repentance linkt with long desire, The couch is fram’d whereon my limbs I lay. And at my gates, &c. My food shall be of care and sorrow made, My drink nought else but tears falne from mine eies, And for my light in this obscured shade The ﬂ ames may serve which from my heart arise. And at my gates, &c. Vvalter Ravvleigh.

In like manner, the trivialities of debts, as men staggering upon weak legs, concerneth me less when my title of Baron Verulam is established to my person: but, be as cautious as he may, man can never foresee the danger that may at any hour befall him.37 With saucy fears I hear from William Camden that a comet hath entered under the extreme part of Libra; the comet, climbing towards the north. At six in the morning it formed a triangle with Arcturus, Spica in Virgo, as it seems, in the 20th degree of Scorpio and fi fteen degrees north. Later, the comet at six in the morning in Bootes’ left arm, about ten degrees from the fi nal star in Ursa Major’s tale, in approximately the fi rst degree of Scorpio and 45 degrees from the vertical at London, as Bainbridge observeth the fears of weather change, though comets are not found to exert a constant or manifest effect in increasing the hear of the season, though it is observed that they are often followed by droughts.38 My stay from the Star Chambers is noted; the cold hath bit my skin; old Father Thames is ice, of which no boat may pass. ’Tis this smallpox that I fear so; it hath infected every third house in London.39 A great feast at Hatton House for the King and the Prince and their followers, Lords and Ladies, by the most noble Lady Hatton. Lord Coke only

37 Horace, Od., ii. 13, 13. 38 Spedding: Works, vol viii; p. 185 translation from Latin to English of the Novum Organum 39 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 Lochithea 433 absent, who in all vulgar opinions was there expected. His Majesty never merrier nor more satisfi ed, who had not patience to sit a quarter of an hour without drinking the health of Lady Hatton, which was pledged fi rst by Lord Hamilton, and then by all the Lords and Ladies with great gravity and respect, and then by all the gallants in the next room. Of smoky fortune giveth way to a great fi re that sweeps over Whitehall. The most spacious and handsome dining hall in Westminster Palace is now burnt to everybody’s great fright, on the sixth day after the King attended a Masque there. It appears to have been struck by lightning eight days ago, the fi re breaking out fi rst in the leaded roof. Methinks this happened because of the sloth of the watchmen. The rebuilding surrounded about the Banqueting Hall; be in design of Inigo Jones and the embroidery of a Rubens ceiling. Howsoever, this slight setback doth not deter the King to publish a meditation on a Sunday sermon, dedicated to the Marquess of Buckingham. A grand funeral procession to honour the death of Sir William Coke; two days later, the Queen’s entrails, encased in a hexagonal container is brought to Westminster by her servants at 8:00pm, and deposited in the lower part of the chapel in which Queen Elizabeth lays buried. With a juggle of wit, I secure Meautys into Parliament; how well predicted this position would soon be.40 Tobie Matthew, from Brussels, saith that in Spain, there are very extraordinary preparations for a great Armada. In Brussels, it is lately, in Court, a current speech as that the enterprise (whatsoever it should have been) is laid wholly aside; but that were strange; yet this is certain, that the forces of men (to the number of almost two thousand) which were to have gone into Spain from hence, are discharged, together with some munition, which was also upon the point of being sent. Another thing is also certain, that both in the Court of Spain and this there is at this time a strange straitness of money; which Tobie doth not conceive, for his part, to proceed so much from want, as design to employ it. The rendezvous where the forces are to meet is at Malaga within the Straits, which makes the enterprise upon Algiers most likely to be intended. The wild conceit, which thinks of going by the Adriatic, per far in un viaggio duoi servitii, as the giving a blow to Venice, and the landing of forces in aid of the King of Bohemia, about Trieste. Perhaps the King of Spain, Tobie concludeth, would be glad to let the world see that now he is hors de paye, and by showing him self in some action to entitle the Duke of Lerma to all his former sloth; or perhaps he now makes a great preparation, upon the pretence of some enterprise that he will let fall, that so he may with the less noise assemble great forces some other year for some attempt not spoke of now. A duel hath been noticed betwixt Henry Rich, Captain of the Guard, and some Eire, a pensioner, both lightly wounded. Ah! Who hath not seen peevish gamesters chew and swallow the cards and swallow the dice in revenge of the loss of their money? Under Buckingham’s eye, I am in the prosecution of the Earl of Suffolk for illegal exaction. His spouse is accused of traffi cking with the public money; they are convicted, ordered to be imprisoned, and fi ned the sum of £30.000. Edward Coke, who presides, proposes that the fi ne be taken to the amount of £100.000. My account of this sees his Majesty: Sir Edward Coke does his part well; I have not heard him do better, and begin with a fi ne of £100.000,

40 See A. Chambers Bunten: Sir Thomas Meautys, Secretary to Lord Bacon, 1918 434 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals but the Judges ﬁ rst and most of the rest reduced it and ’tis by troth the pain in my foot leaveth me but weak as doth Buckingham’s wishes to excuse him self from my suit to his Majesty:

My Honourable Lord. I know that to a man of so much nobleness thing will be so acceptable as sincerity and plainness. And therefore before I move his Majesty in your suit, I will take the liberty of a friend to deliver unto you mine opinion of it. And to begin with that which is within the compass of mine own knowledge, the example you allege of Sir Will. Candish is no more but the prevention of that honour which no man knoweth how soon it may by his own right fall upon him, and only stretched a little higher at the suit of my Lord Chamberlain and my Lord Arundell. That to my Lord of Doncaster was at his Majesty’s going into Scotland and upon a consideration whereby he was no gainer, being for buying of hangings to furnish the houses. If Secretary Winwood obtained a Baron it was (as I can assure your Lordship) the only gift his Majesty gave him in reward of long service, and in a time when it was not a matter of such difﬁ culty to get as now it is; when to my knowledge his Majesty cannot endure to hear of making any for his own beneﬁ t, notwithstanding the great necessities wherein he is. What the custom hath been for rewarding Chancellors after the Parliament I never heard; but it seems by your letter the last claimed it not. Whatsoever the use hath been after the end of the Parliament, I assure my self your Lordship will hold it very unseasonable to be done before, and likely to do more hurt than good to his Majesty’s service (whereof his Majesty hath found no man more careful than your Lordship) if while he is asking with one hand he should be giving with the other. Having thus freely delivered to your Lordship my opinion, I now leave it to your self whether I shall move his Majesty in your suit or no: wherein I will be ready so to carry my self as I shall be further directed by your Lordship, and as it becometh, your Lordship’s faithful friend and servant. G. Buckingham.

The King entertaineth the Ambassador and the Frenchmen with an elegant banquet in the Upper Hall of Parliament. They seat in this order: the King at mid-table, the Ambassador at his left, the Ambassador Ordinary at the table’s head. The Duc d’Auvergne was not present, being uninvited to the King’s table. The Prince does not attend. On Epiphany Sunday the King attends Chapel, held up with difﬁ culty. He offers gold, incense, and myrrh, and touches eighty victims of scrofula. A few days passeth and I call Camden and Norroy, the King of Arms; they both arrive very early in the morning where we discuss the accoutrements needful for the honour of a Viscount: the King has decided to invest me with the title of Viscount St Alban in solemn ceremony. I leave my friends for a spell to prepare their drinks; upon my return, I am told that whilst I am gone, there comes into the study one of my gentlemen, and opens my chest of drawers wherein my money is, and takes it out in handfuls and ﬁ lls both his pockets, and goes away without saying any word to them. He was no sooner gone but comes a second gentleman, opens the same drawers, Lochithea 435

fi lls both his pockets with money, and goes away as the former did, without speaking a word. I only shake my head and by troth say “Sir, I cannot help myself.”41 Of the next day, Viscount Doncaster entertaineth the French Ambassador and his suite with an elegant banquet at Essex House, which the King attendeth with the Prince, the Chancellor, and the Treasurer. In a shepherds’ Masque, the Scots and English take the palm from the French, as in jousting and running at the ring. A squabble over this performance brakes out between Ailosse and the Comptroller of the royal household; but a more serious one between Baron Digby and George Goring, who challenge him to a duel, because he hath displaced his wife from the seat in which the Duke of Lennox, Seneschal of the household, had placed her; but the King affected a reconciliation. The Ambassador bids farewell to his Majesty. Many arrive in celebration to my ninth and fi fty birthday with honourable merits; Dr. Peter Heylin, amongst whom saith: “The Lord Chancellor Bacon, is a man of a most strong brain, and a chemical head; designing his endeavours to the perfecting of the works of nature; or rather improving nature to the best advantages of life, and the common benefi t of mankind. Pity it is, he is not entertained with some liberal salary, abstracted from all affairs both of Court and Judicature, and furnished with suffi ciency, both of means and helps for the going on his design: which had it been, he might have given us such a body of natural philosophy, and made it so subservient to the public good, that neither Aristotle, nor Theophrastus, or the rest of our latter chemists, would have been considerable.” Some days later, I am, by plenary investiture, created Viscount St Alban. Baron Carew carries the robe in front of me, Lord Wentworth carries the Coronet; Marquess Buckingham supports him. I offer a sevenfold thanks to the King, because it is only in the reign of King James I., which had raised and advanced me nine times-thrice in dignity and six times in offi ce: Counsel Learned Extraordinary to his Majesty, as I had been to Queen Elizabeth; King’s Solicitor-General; his Majesty’s Attorney-General; Councillor of State, being yet but Attorney; Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England; lastly, Lord Chancellor-which two last place, though they be the same in authority and power, yet they differ in patent, height, and favour of the Prince; since none of my successors did ever bear the title of Lord Chancellor. My dignities, fi rst, Knight; then, Baron of Verulam; lastly, Viscount St. Alban: besides other good gifts and bounties for the hand which his Majesty giveth me, both out of the Broad Seal and out of the Alienation Offi ce.42

May It Please Your Majesty. I thank God that I number my days both in thankfulness to him, and in warning to my self. I should likewise number your Majesty’s beneﬁ ts, which as (to take them in all kind) they are without number; so even in this kind of steps and degrees of advancement, they are in great number than scarcely any other of your subject can say. For this is now the eighth time that your Majesty hath raised me.

41 Spedding: Life, vol. ii; p. 637 42 William Rawley, D.D: The Life of Lord Bacon with notes, 1658 436 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

You found me of the Learned Counsel, Extraordinary, without patent or fee; a kind of indi- viduum vagum. You established me, and brought me into Ordinary. Soon after, you placed me Solicitor, where I served seven years. Then your Majesty made me your Attorney or Procurator General. Then Privy Counsellor, while I was Attorney; a kind of miracle of your favour that had not been in many ages. Thence Keeper of your Seal; and because that was a kind of planet and not fi xed, Chancellor. And when your Majesty could raise me no higher, it was your grace to illustrate me with beams of honour; fi rst making me Baron Verulam, and now Viscount St Alban. So this is the eighth rise or reach, a diapason [high volume] in music, even a good number and accord for a close. And so I may without superstition be buried in St. Albans habit or vestment.43 Besides the number, the obligation is increased by three notes or marks. First, that they proceed from such a King; for honours from some Kings are but great chances, or counters set high; but from your Majesty they are indeed dignities, by the cooperation of your grace. Secondly, in respect of the continuance of your Majesty’s favour, which proceedeth as the divine favour from grace to grace. And, thirdly, these splendours of honour are like your freest patents, absque aliquo inde reddendo. Offi ces have burdens of cares and labour; but honours have no burden but thankfulness, which doth rather raise men’s spirits then accable them or press them down. Then I must say, quid retribuam? I have nothing of mine own. That that God hath given me I shall offer and present unto your Majesty, which is care and diligence and assiduous endeavour, and that which is the chief, cor unum et viam unam, hoping that our Majesty will do, as your superior doth; that is, that fi nding my heart upright, you will bear with my other imperfections. And lastly, your Majesty shall have the best of my time, which I assure my self shall conclude in your favour, and survive in your remembrance. And that is my prayer for my self. The rest shall be in prayers for your Majesty. Fra. Bacon.

With great pomp the King goeth in procession from Westminster Palace to St. Paul, together with the Bishops and the Peers of the Realm. At Temple Bar the Lord Mayor of London and Aldermen receive him. Robert Heath the Recorder congratulates him on his entry into the city. Then on the north side, kept within rails the Guilds of the citizens stand in order with their banners all the way to St. Paul’s Cathedral, courtiers hang out of windows. Neither the younger sons of Earls, nor the Knights of the Privy Council take part in the procession, because they do not agree about precedence. The King is

43 “I have seen a letter of his Lordship’s to King James, wherein he makes acknowledgement, that he was that master to him that had raised and advance him nine times-thrice in dignity and six times in offi ce. His offi ces (as I conceive) were, Counsel Learned Extraordinary to his Majesty, as he had been to Queen Elizabeth; King’s Solicitor-General; his Majesty’s Attorney-General; Councillor of State, being yet but Attorney; Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England; lastly, Lord Chancellor-which two last places, though they be the same in authority and power, yet they differ in patent, height, and favour of the Prince; since whose time none of his successors did ever bear the title of Lord Chancellor. His dignities were, fi rst, Knight; then, Baron of Verulam; lastly, Viscount St Alban.”—William Rawley’s Life of Lord Bacon in Resuscitatio, published 1657 Lochithea 437 bareheaded. On the west side, where there is an ancient polished brass column, is placed a chair and cushion, and when he kneeled before this and risen up, the Dean preached a sermon. Next he goes in procession through the middle island of the Cathedral, beneath a canopy, through the choir to the apse next to the tomb of my father, Sir Nicholas Bacon. Whence, after short prayers and hymns, he goes to the place which John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, hath set up for the hearing of sermons. The Bishop of London preaches a sermon about the need for restoring St. Paul’s. The King returns in the order in which he came.44 I manage to set forth my new work Instauratio Magna45 or a kind of New Organum46 of all philosophy; in sending it to the King, in his own hand, his Majesty forwards thus his writ: “My Lord. I have received your letter and your book, than the which you could not have sent a more acceptable present unto me. How thankful I am for it cannot better be expressed by me, than by a fi rm resolution I have taken; fi rst, to read it through with care and attention, though I should steal some hours from my sleep, having otherwise as little spare time to read it as you had to write it. And then to use the liberty of a true friend, in not sparing to ask you the question in any point whereof I shall stand in doubt (nam ejus est explicare, cujus est condere): as, on the other part, I will willingly give a due commendation to such places as in my opinion shall deserve it. In the meantime, I can with comfort assure you, that you could not have made choice of a subject more befi tting your place, and your universal and methodick knowledge; and in the general, I have already observed, that you jump with me, in keeping the mid way between the two extremes; as also in some particulars I have found that you agree fully with my opinion. And so praying God to give your work as good success as your heart can wish and your labours deserve, I bid you heartily farewell.”47 My response be thus: “I cannot express how much comfort I received by your last letter of your own royal hand. I see your Majesty is a star that hath benevolent aspect and gracious infl uence upon all things that tend to a general good. Why watch the rising of those ancient signs? Lo Cæsar’s Star advancing: Star that makes the cornfi elds glad with harvest, and the grape turn purple on the sunward-sloping hill. This work which is for the bettering of men’s bread and wine, which are the characters of temporal blessings and sacraments of eternal, I hope by God’s holy providence will be ripened by Cæsar’s star. Your Majesty shall not only do to myself a singular favour, but to the business a material help, if you will be graciously pleased to open yourself to me in those things, wherein you may be unsatisfi ed. For though this work, as by position and principle, doth disclaim to be tried by anything but by experience, and the resultants of experience in a true way; yet the sharpness and profoundness of your Majesty’s judgment ought to be an exception to this

44 William Camden’s Diaries 45 Extract from Charles W. Eliot’s Prefaces and Prologues to Famous Books with Introductions, Notes and Illustrations, 1910: “Bacon’s Instauratio Magna, the great work by which he hoped to create a scientifi c revolution and deliver mankind from Aristotelianism, was left far from complete; but the nature of his scheme and the scale on which it was plannedis is no longer a guide to scientifi c method; but his prefatory statements as to his objects and hopes still offer a lofty inspiration.” 46 Westminster Rev. Am. ed., vol. xxxv., p 236, Johnian, a member of St. John’s College in the University of Cambridge, England: “The Johnians are always known by the name of pigs; they put up a new organ the other day, which was immediately christened: Baconi Novum Organum.” 47 Resuscitatio, 1657 438 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals general rule; and your questions, observations, and admonishments, may do infi nite good. This comfortable beginning makes me hope further, that your Majesty will be aiding to me, in setting men on work for the collecting of a natural and experimental history; which is basis totius negotii, a thing which I assure my self will be from time to time an excellent recreation unto you; I say, to that admirable spirit of yours, that delighteth in light: and I hope well that even in your times many noble inventions may be discovered for man’s use. For who can tell, now this mine of truth is once opened, how the veins go, and what lieth higher and what lieth lower? But let me trouble your Majesty no further at this time. God ever preserve and prosper your Majesty.” Sir Henry Wotton, on receiving a copy, hath this to say:48 “Your Lordship hath done a great and ever-living benefi t to all the children of nature, and to nature herself in her utter most extent of latitude: who, never before, had so noble, nor so true an interpreter, (or as I am readier to style your Lordship) never so inward a Secretary of her Cabinet. But of your work (which came but this week to my hands) I shall fi nd occasion to speak more hereafter; having yet read only the fi rst book thereof, and a few Aphorisms of the second. For it is not a banquet that men may superfi cially taste, and put up the rest in their pockets; but, in truth, a solid feast, which requireth due mastication. Therefore, when I have once, myself, perused the whole, I determine to have it read, piece by piece, at certain hours, in my domestic College, as an ancient author: for I have learned thus much by it already, that we are extremely mistaken in the computation of antiquity, by searching it backwards; because, indeed the fi rst times were the youngest; especially in points of natural discovery and experience.” Mine Instauration was the chiefest of my works;49 humbly I accept his Majesty’s printers to take on the work of publication. John Chamberlain notes in one of his letters that he had read no more than the bare title, and was not greatly encouraged by Mr. Cuffe’s judgement, who having long since perused it gave this censure, that a fool could not have written such a work, and a wise man would not. I forward a copy to Coke, and it is noted that he spake of this work as “it deserves not to be read in schools, but to be freighted in the Ship of Fools.”50 O thinkst thou will penetrate my wit? Nay, for my one experiment in Novum Organum shalt bolt to the heavens: I had a hollow globe of lead made, capable of holding about two pints, and suffi ciently thick to bear considerable force. Having made a hole in it, I fi lled it with water, and then stopt up the hole with melted lead, so that the glove became quite solid. I then fl attened two opposite sides of the glove with a heavy hammer, by which the

48 Sir Henry Wotton’s Remains, p. 298–299 49 John Chamberlain mentions that it took Lord Bacon thirteen years to complete this work; Spedding states that it took thirty years to complete: I have entered William Rawley’s statement “the chiefest of his works” which would cover the difference of opinion in a serene manner 50 Sebastian Brand’s Shyp of Folys: “A very usual way of bestowing books, in libraries, especially when they were not numerous, was to place them in a sort of cupboard under the sloping desk on which the owner read or wrote. An excellent specimen of this device, which Richard de Bury specially commends, as being modelled on the Ark, in the side of which the book of the Law was put, is to be found in The Ship of Fools, 1498.”—See J. W. Clark: Libraries in the Medieval and Renaissance Periods, 1894 Lochithea 439 water was necessarily contracted into less space; a sphere being the fi gure of largest capacity. And when the hammering had no more effect in making the water shrink, I made use of a mill or press; till the water impatient of further pressure exuded through the solid lead like a fi ne dew. I then computed the space lost by the compression, and concluded that this was the extent of compression which the water had suffered; but only when constrained by great violence.51 In the times that I existeth in my titles and positions, I here offer some clear picture regarding fees: the Lord Chief Justice or the Lord Chancellor, like the Secretary of State, is paid by fees. The King’s judge is neither in deed nor in name a public servant: he receives a nominal sum as standing Counsel for the Crown; and for the rest he depends on the income arising from his hearing of private causes. The Seals, though the Lord Chancellor had no proper salary, were in Egerton’s time worth from ten to fi fteen thousand pounds a year. I value my place as Attorney-General at six thousand a year; of which princely sum the King only pays me eighty-one pounds six shillings and eight pence.52 Therefore, I undertake to be engaged in the prosecution of Sir Henry Yelverton, Attorney-General, for unlawfully amending the charter of the city of London.53 So again narrations and relations of actions see one more honour I bestow to my father’s memory: the new Treasurer comes to the Exchequer, accompanied by Cousin Fulke Greville the Vice-Chancellor, where in my presence he takes his oath to administer the offi ce of Treasurer faithfully. I admonish him to make Treasurer Burghley and Nicholas Bacon, Keeper of the Great Seal, his examples. The King grants permission to the United Provinces for the transport of 100 pieces of artillery with accompanying equipment, and the same number to the Spanish Ambassador, not without muttering of the multitude for £20,000 is asked of the Londoners. They cheerfully pay £10,000 to be collected from among the guilds. It is announced that Robert Mansfi eld has unsuccessfully fought ’gainst the Turkish pirates. Yet I may excite you Reader one year later, where Meautys enters Parliament and sits for Cambridge, Borough; and I take my seat in the House of Lords whilst my good friend and associate, Ben Jonson, offers me the following honour for my sixtieth birthday:

51 It is noteworthy to add Spedding’s comment on this experiment; Works, vol. vi, p. 480: “This is perhaps the most remarkable of Bacon’s experiments; and it is singular that it was so little spoken of by subsequent writers. Nearly ﬁ fty years after the publication of the Novum Organum, an account of a similar experiment was published by Megalotti, who was secretary of the Accademia del Cimento at Florence; and it has since been familiarly known as the Florentine experiment. It is to be remarked that Leibnitz, Nouveauz Essais, in mentioning the Florentine experiment, says that the globe was of gold (p. 229. Erdmann), whereas the Florentine acade- micians expressly say why they preferred silver to either gold or lead.” 52 William H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861. In 1606 a Bill was laid before the Commons, by a disappointed jobber, to reduce some of the fees for copies in the Court of Record 53 “Yelverton was acquitted of all corruption, but condemned and ﬁ ned for credulity or neglect: after his release from the Tower, he became a practiser again at the Bar, and in 1625, was preferred to be a judge; dying in January 1629.”—See R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 440 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Poem By Ben Jonson Hail, happy genius of this ancient pile! How comes it all things so about thee smile? The ﬁ re, the wine, the men! And in the midst, Thou stand’st as if some mystery thou didst! Pardon, I read it in thy face, the day For whose returns, and many, all these pray: And so do I. This is the sixtieth year Since Bacon, and thy lord was born, and here; Son to the grave wise Keeper of the Seal, Fame, and foundation of the English weal. What then his father was, that since is he, Now with a title more to the degree; England’s high Chancellor: the destined heir In his soft cradle to his father’s chair, Whose even thread the Fates spin round and full, Out of their choicest, and their whitest wool. ’Tis a brave cause of joy, let it be known, For ’twere a narrow gladness, kept thine own. Give me a deep-crowned bowl, that I may sing In raising him the wisdom of my King

I am fi nally rewarded and raised to the peerage of Viscount St Alban the same time I hear of a great fi re in the clerk offi ces of Chancery Lane; many losses of rolls, records and writings.54 I may duly confess at this point, that a warning angel, a friend,55 had not long before, chanced to hear from wagging tongues that I was to be under dispute of character and service to the law, in a suit still in progress.56 Not long following, Sir Robert Phillips, Chairman of the Committee, informs the House that two witnesses, one Christopher Aubrey and one Edward Egerton, are ready to make complaints ’gainst me.

54 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 55 Spedding: Life, vol. ii, 1878: Spedding does not specify or go into the matter of who this friend could have been who was warning Lord Bacon “that he was likely to be charged by a discontented suitor with having, about two years and a half before, taken a sum of money from him for the better dispatch of a suit which was then in progress.” It is possible, that the “friend” was Sir Thomas Meautys, yet no evidence is suggested of this in Bunten’s Sir Thomas Meautys, Secretary to Lord Bacon, 1918. I shall therefore not remain on assumptions that have been contra- indicated in this work 56 “The whole course of his [Bacon’s] behaviour, from the ﬁ rst rumour to the ﬁ nal sentence, con- vinces me that not the discovery of the thing only, but the thing itself, came upon him as a surprise; and that if anybody had told him the day before that he stood in danger of a charge of taking bribes, he would have received the suggestion with an affected incredulity.”—ibid., Lochithea 441

I forward to Buckingham the following letter in this matter:57

My Very Good Lord. Your Lordship spake of purgatory. I am now in it, but my mind is in a calm; for my fortune is not my felicity. I know I have clean hands and a clean heart; and I hope a clean house for friends or servants. But Job himself, or whosoever was the justest judge, by such hunting for matters against him as hath been used against me, may for a time seem foul, specially in a time when greatness is the mark and accusation is the game. And if this be to be a Chancellor, I think if the Great Seal lay upon Hounslow Heath, nobody would take it up. But the King and your Lordship will, I hope, put an end to these miseries one way or other. And in troth that which I fear most is lest continual attendance and business, together with these cares, and want of time to do my weak body right this spring by diet and physic, will cast me down; and then it will be thought feigning or fainting. But I hope in God I shall hold out. God prosper you. Fra. Bacon.

After this ﬁ rst accusation, another tumbleth down my path: an old client still in dispute of a suit in Chancery regarding a will. His claims are of offering a sum of money and I of accepting this amount toward a favourable judgment of his case. Not able to dispatch Meautys, it is that my Lord Keeper hath stayed my pardon at the Seal. But it is with good respect for he saith it shall be private, and then he shall forthwith write to his Lordship Buckingham and pass it if he received his pleasure; and doth also shew his reason of stay, which is, that he doubteth the exception of the sentence of Parliament is not well drawn, nor strong enough, which if it be doubtful my Lord hath great reason.58 Before the Committee for Courts of Justice, this second story stands: the Committee reports to the House; the charge of corruption is drawn, in truth, ’gainst me. This cuff of mischance takes me off my feet, unable to attend any hearing of the particulars; my place in the House of Lords is to be substituted:

To The Right Honourable His Very Good Lords, The Lords Spiritual And Temporal In The Upper House Of Parliament Assembled.59 My very good Lords. I humbly pray your Lordships all to make a favourable and true construction of my absence. It is no feigning nor fainting, but sickness both of my heart and of my back, though joined with that comfort of mind, that persuadeth me that I am not far from heaven, whereof I feel the ﬁ rst fruits. And because, whether I live or die, I would be glad to preserve my

57 ibid., 58 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 59 Spedding: Life, vol. ii, 1878 442 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals honour and fame, as far as I am worthy; hearing that some complaints of base bribery are come before your Lordships, my requests unto your Lordships are: ﬁ rst, that you will maintain me in your good opinion, without prejudice, until my cause be heard; secondly, that, in regard I have sequestered my mind at this time in great part from worldly matters, thinking of my account and answer in a higher court, your Lordships would give me some convenient time, according to the course of other Courts, to advise with my Counsel, and to make my answer; wherein nevertheless my Counsel’s part will be the least; for I shall not, by the grace of God, trick up an innocency with cavillations; but plainly and ingenuously (as your Lordships know my manner is) declare what I know or remember; thirdly, that, according to the course of justice, I may be allowed to except to the witnesses brought against me, and to move questions to your Lordships for their cross-examination, and likewise to produce my own witnesses for discovery of the truth; and lastly, if there come any more petitions of like nature, that your Lordships would be pleased not to take any prejudice or apprehension of any number or muster of them, especially against a judge that makes two thousand decrees and orders in a year (not to speak of the courses that have been taken for hunting out complaints against me); but that I may answer them, according to the rules of justice, severally and respectively. These requests I hope appear to your Lordships no other than just. And so, thinking my self happy to have so noble Peers and reverend Prelates to discern of my cause, and desiring no privilege of greatness for subter- fuge of guiltiness, but meaning (as I said) to deal fairly and plainly with your Lordships, and to put myself upon your honours and favours, I pray God to bless your counsels and your persons; and rest. Your Lordship’s humble servant. Fra. St. Alban, Canc.

The letter is given to Buckingham upon his second visit to me and read by the Clerk, then by the Lord Chief Justice of which a verbal answer is forwarded: “That the Lords received his Lordship’s letter delivered unto them by the Lord Admiral: they intend to proceed in his cause (now before their Lordships) according to the right rule of justice: and they shall be glad if his Lordship shall clear his honour therein: to which end they pray his Lordship to provide for his defense.” Though I am unable to attend, Meautys keeps me updated on the proceedings; many more charges are presented ’gainst me;60 Meautys quickly draws up arguments in my defense and works in a lusty manner from York House.61 He tells me that the Commons now deliver my case over to the Lords; in turn, they humbly desire that inasmuch as it concerned a person of so great eminence, it might not depend long before their Lordships; that the examination of the proofs might be expedited, and if I found guilty, then to be

60 William H. Dixon of the Inner Temple: Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861: Charges of debts come from Compton, Peacock and Vanlore. Charges of arbitration come from London Companies, Smithwick and his gift, Young, Wroth, Hody, Barker, Monk, Sir John Trevor, Scott, Fisher, Lenthal, Dunch, Montagu, Ruswell, the Frenchmen, Kennedy and the van Lore presents, Sir George Reynell’s ring, a gift of £500 from Sir Ralph Hornsby and Lady Wharton’s £200.” 61 See A. Chambers Bunten: Sir Thomas Meautys, Secretary to Lord Bacon, 1918 Lochithea 443 punished; if not, the accusers to be punished. All witnesses, so Meautys tells me, are examined in open Court, that no witness were to be examined what they received themselves, but only what bribes were given to the Lord Chancellor, and have the following interrogatories ministered to them: - Whether they, by themselves or any other person, have given money or other gratuity to the Lord Chancellor, or to any other servants, friends, or follower of his. - Whether they have advised or directed any so to do, or known of any other that hath so done. - Whether they, or the parties which they advised so to do, or have heard so to have done, had then any cause or suit depending before him, or intended to have any. - Whether they have intended, attempted, or contracted for any gratuity so to be given, though not performed.

My letter to his Majesty, through Buckingham, shows my agonization:62

My Very Good Lord. Yesterday I know was no day; now I hope I shall hear from your Lordship, who are my anchor in these ﬂ oods. Meanwhile to ease my heart a little, I have written to his Majesty the inclosed; which I pray your Lordship to read advisedly, and to deliver it, or not to deliver it, as you think best. God ever prosper your Lordship. Yours ever what I can. Fra. St. Alban, Canc.

Letter To The King. It may please your most excellent Majesty. Time hath been when I have brought unto you gemitum columbæ63 from others. Now I bring it from my self. I fl y unto your Majesty with the wings of a dove, which once within these seven days I thought would have carried me to a higher fl ight. When I enter into my self, I fi nd not the materials of such a tempest as is comen upon me. I have been (as your Majesty knoweth best) never author of any immoderate counsel, but always desired to have things carried suavibus modis. I have been no avaricious oppressor of the people. I have been no haughty or intolerable or hateful man, in my conversation or carriage. I have inherited no hatred from my father, but am a good patriot born. Whence should this be? For these are the things that use to raise dislikes abroad. For the House of Commons, I began my credit there, and now it must be the place of the sepulture thereof; and yet this Parliament, upon the message touching religion, the old love revived, and they said I was the same man still, only honesty was turned into honour. For the Upper House, even within these days before these troubles, they seemed as to take me into their arms, fi nding in me ingenuity which they took to be the true straight line of nobleness, without crooks or angles. And for the briberies and gifts wherewith I

62 Spedding: Life, vol ii, 1878 63 Psalm 55:6 444 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals am charged, when the books of hearts shall be opened, I hope I shall not be found to have the troubled fountain of a corrupt heart in a depraved habit of taking rewards to pervert justice; howsoever I may be frail, and partake of the abuse of the times. And therefore I am resolved when I come to my answer, not to trick up my innocency (as I writ to the Lords) by cavillations or voidances, but to speak to them the language that my heart speaketh to me, in excusing, extenuating, or ingenious confessing; praying to God to give me the grace to see to the bottom of my faults, and that no hardness of heart do steal upon me, under show of more neatness of conscience than is cause. But not to trouble your Majesty longer, craving pardon for this long mourning letter; that which I thirst after as the heart after the streams, is that I may know by my matchless friend64 that presenteth to you this letter, your Majesty’s heart (which is an abyssus of goodness, as I am an abyssus of misery) towards me. I have been ever your man, and counted my self but an usufructuary of my self, the property being yours: and now making my self an oblation to do with me as may best conduce to the honour of your justice, the honour of your mercy, and the use of your service, resting as clay in your Majesty’s gracious hands. Fra. St. Alban, Canc.

The previous day I had word that Chamberlain took full account in a letter of his: “And they are now fallen into another labyrinth whence they see no way out of briberies and extortions in matters of justice, and the ﬁ rst tempest is fallen upon my Lord Chancellor, against whom there come in daily more petitions and accusations than they can overcome, wherein his own friends are made special instruments against him. He has absented himself from the Upper House these eight or ten days, so that the Lord of Buckingham and others came to him on Sunday last to seek a commission for the new Lord Chief Justice to be speaker in his place. It seems he does either dissemble or not feel the ignominie that hangs over him, but caries himself as he was once; yet his friends give out that he is very sick, and so would move commiseration, but all men approve the Lord Cooke, who upon discovery of these matters exclaimed that a corrupt judge was the grievance of grievances. For my own part I assure you I do much lament that a man of so excellent parts should prove so foul and faulty as is pretended. God send him patience, and that he may make the best use of this afﬂ iction.”

The Last Will And Testament April 10, 1621 Sir Fr. Bacon, Visct. Of St Alban, Lord Chancellor Of England. I bequeath my soul to God above, by the oblation of my Saviour. My body to be buried obscurely. My name to the next ages, and to foreign nations. My compositions unpublished, or the fragments of them, I require my servant Harris to deliver to my brother Constable, to the end that if any of these be ﬁ t in his judgment to

64 Buckingham Lochithea 445 be published, he may accordingly dispose of them. And in particular I wish the Elogium I wrote “In felicem memoriam Reginæ Elizabethæ” may be published. And to my brother Constable I give all my books: and to my servant Harris for this his service and care ﬁ fty pieces in gold, pursed up. To my wife, a box of rings; save the great diamond I would have restored to Sir George Reynell. To the Prince, the golden screen which I provided for the Queen his mother. To the Spanish Ambassador, the picture of Indian feathers, in the frame of gold. To my L. Cavendish the casting bottle of gold. To Sir Edw. Sackville, the ring with the crushed diamond, which the Prince gave me. To Mr. John Finch, the lease of my lodgings at Gray’s Inn. All my lands, tenements, and hereditaments, leases, goods and chattels, and the use and trust of them wheresoever and of what nature soever, I give and bequeath to my executors for the payment of my debts by their discretion, and the surplusage of the value of them to be disposed as followeth. To my servant, Mr. Thomas Mewtys, £500. To such other of my servants as I shall declare by writing or word before witnesses, £800. The rest in pios usus to be distributed at the discretion of my executors. I constitute my executors Mr. Thos. Crew, Mr. Thos. Hedley, Mr. John Finch, Mr. John Young my servant, and Mr. William Hatcher my servant; and I desire my executors to make the ﬁ rst offer of the reversion of Gorhambury and Verulam after my wife’s decease, to the Prince’s Highness; because they being things of pleasure and not far from Barkhamstead, it may be his Highness may take a like to deal for them. My executors to have legacies in plate of £30 apiece. Justice Hutton to be the supervisor, to whom I give the triangle salt of gold. Fra. St Alban, Canc.

A Prayer, Or Psalm By Francis Bacon Most gracious Lord God, my merciful Father, from my youth up, my Creator, my Redeemer, my Comforter. Thou (O Lord) soundest and searchest the depths and secrets of all hearts; thou knowledgest the upright of heart, thou judgest the hypocrite, thou ponderest men’s thoughts and doings as in a balance, thou measurest their intentions as with a line, vanity and crooked ways cannot be hid from thee. Remember (O Lord) how thy servant hath walked before thee: remember what I have fi rst sought, and what hath been principal in mine intentions. I have loved thy assemblies, I have mourned for the divisions of thy Church, I have delighted in the brightness of thy sanctuary. This vine which thy right hand hath planted in this nation, I have ever prayed unto thee that it might have the fi rst 446 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and the latter rain; and that it might stretch her branches to the seas and to the fl oods. The state and bread of the poor and oppressed have been precious in mine eyes: I have hated all cruelty and hardness of heart: I have (though in a despised weed) procured the good of all men. If any have been mine enemies, I thought not of them; neither hath the sun almost set upon my displeasure; but I have been as a dove, free from superfl uity of maliciousness. Thy creatures have been my books, but thy Scriptures much more. I have sought thee in the courts, fi elds, and gardens, but I have found thee in thy temples. Thousand have been my sins, and ten thousand my transgressions; but thy sanctifi cations have remained with me, and my heart, though thy grace, hath been and unquenched coal upon thy altar. O Lord, my strength, I have since my youth met with thee in all my ways, by thy fatherly compassions, by thy comfortable chastisements, and by thy most visible providence. As thy favours have increased upon me, so have thy corrections; so as thou hast been always near me, O Lord; and ever as my worldly blessings were exalted, so secret darts from thee have pierced me; and when I have ascended before men, I have descended in humiliation before thee. And now when I thought most of peace and honour, thy hand is heavy upon me, and hath humbled me, according to thy former lobbing-kindness, keeping me still in thy fatherly school, not as a bastard, but as a child. Just are thy judgments upon me for my sins, which are more in number than the sands of the sea, but have no proportion to thy mercies; for what are the sands of the sea to the sea, earth, heavens? And all these are nothing to thy mercies. Besides my innumerable sins, I confess before thee, that I am debtor to thee for the gracious talent of thy gifts and graces, which I have neither put into a napkin, nor put it (as I ought) to exchangers, where it might have made best profi t; but misspent it in things for which I was least fi t; so as I may truly say, my soul hath been a stranger in the course of my pilgrimage. Be merciful unto me (O Lord) for my Saviour’s sake, and receive me into thy bosom, or guide me in thy ways. Amen.

With Meautys by my side, we search previous cases that would spell light upon these accusations ’gainst me: of one, Sir William Thorpe, took to my attention. His offense was of taking money from ﬁ ve several persons that were felons, for staying their process of exigent; so that it made him a kind of accessory of felony, and touched upon matter capital; Sir Thorpe however, held position of Lord Chief justice; I, of Chancellor.65 My needs turn to his Majesty; I must request a private consultation; but of what cases to defend my self with? There be three degrees or cases of bribery charged or supposed in a judge: the ﬁ rst, of bargain or contract for reward to prevent justice, pendente lite. [while a suit is pending.] The second, where the judge conceives the cause to be at an end by the information of the party, or otherwise, and useth not such diligence as ought to inquire

65 Spedding traced an act taken from Coke’s time in the 3d part of his Institutes, c. 68, that cites an Act of Parliament of 11 Hen. IV., in which it is enacted that no Chancellor, Treasurer, Keeper of the Privy Seal, King’s Counsellor, King’s Serjeant, or any other Offi cer, Judge, or Minister of the King, receiving fees or wages of the King for their said offi ces or services, shall in future take any manner of gift or brocage of any for doing their said offi ces and services upon pain, etc., Lochithea 447 of it. And the third, when the cause is really ended, and it is sine fraude without relation to any precedent promise. Now if I might see the particulars of my charge, I should deal plainly with his Majesty, in whether of these degrees every particular case falls. But for the fi rst of them, I take my self to be as innocent as any born upon St. Innocent’s day, in my heart. For the second, I doubt in some particulars I may be faulty. And for the last, I conceive it to be no fault, by therein I desire to be better informed, that I may be twice penitent, once for the fact, and again for the error. For I had rather be a briber, than a defender of bribes. I must likewise confess to his Majesty that at Newyear’s tides and likewise at my fi rst coming in, which was as it were my wedding, I did not so precisely as perhaps I ought examine whether those that presented me had causes before me, yea or no. And this is simply all that I can say for the present concerning my charge until I may receive it more particularly. And all this while, I do not fl y to that as to say, that these things are vitia temporis and not vitia hominis. For my fortune, summa summarum with me is, that I may not be made altogether unprofi table to do his Majesty service or honour. If his Majesty continue me as I am, I hope I shall be a new man, and shall reform things out of feeling, more than another can do out of example. If I cast part of my burden, I shall be more strong and delivré to bear the rest. And, to tell his Majesty what my thoughts run upon, I think of writing a story of England, and of re-compiling of the laws into a better digest. But to conclude, I most humbly pray his Majesty’s direction and advice. For as he hath used to give me the attribute of care of his business, so I must now cast the care of myself upon God and him. His Majesty gives grant to see me; the Lord Treasurer informs the Lords; and their report is duly forwarded:

The Lord Treasurer signiﬁ ed, that in the interim of this cessation, the Lord Chancellor was an humble suitor unto his Majesty, that he might see his Majesty and speak with him; and although his Majesty, in respect of the Lord Chancellor’s person, and of the place he holds, might have given his Lordship that favour, yet, for that his Lordship is under the trial of this House, his Majesty would not on the sudden grant it. That, on Sunday last, the King calling all the Lords of this House which were of his Council before him, it pleased his Majesty to show their Lordships what was desired by the Lord Chancellor, demanding their Lordships’ advice therein. The Lords did not presume to advise his Majesty; for that his Majesty did suddenly propound such a course as all the world could not advise a better; which was, that his Majesty would speak with him privately. That yesterday, his Majesty admitting the Lord Chancellor to his presence, his Lordship desired that he might have a particular of those matters wherewith he is charged before the Lords of this House; for that it was not possible of him, who past so many orders and decrees in a year, to remember all things that fell out in them; and that, this being granted, his Lordship would desire two requests of his Majesty. One, that where his answers should be fair and clear to those things objected against him, his Lordship might stand upon his innocency. Two, where his answer should not be so fair and clear, there his Lordship might be admitted to the extenuation of the charge; and where the proofs were full, and undeniable, his Lordship would ingenuously confess them, and put himself upon the mercy of the Lords. Unto all which his 448 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Majesty’s answer was, he referred him to the Lords of this House, and thereof his Majesty willed his Lordship to make report to their Lordships.

I think my self infi nitely bounded to his Majesty, for vouchsafi ng me access to his royal person, and to touch the hem of his garment. I see he imitateth him that would not break the broken reed, nor quench the smoking fl ax; and as he imitateth Christ, so I hope assuredly my Lords of the Upper House will imitate him; and unto his grace and mercy, and next to my Lords, I recommend myself. It is not possible, nor it were not safe, for me to answer particulars till I have my charge; which when I shall receive, I shall without fi g-leaves or disguise excuse what I can excuse, extenuate what I can extenuate, and ingenuously confess what I can neither clear nor extenuate. And if there be anything which I mought conceive to be no offense, and yet is, I desire to be informed, that I may be twice penitent, once for my fault, and the second time for my error. It hath pleased God for these three days past, to visit me with such extremity of headache, upon the hinder part of my head, fi xed in one place dear Reader, that I thought verily it had been some imposthumation. And then the little physic that I have told me, that either it must grow to a congelation, and so to a lethargy, or to break, and so to a mortal fever or sudden death. Which apprehension, and chiefl y the anguish of the pain, made me unable to think of any business. But now that the pain itself is assuaged to be tolerable, I resume the care of my business, and therein prostrate myself again, by my letter, at his Majesty’s feet: “Your Majesty can bear me witness, that at my last so comfortable access I did not so much as move your Majesty, by your absolute power of pardon or otherwise, to take my cause into your hands and to interpose between the sentence of the House; and according to mine own desire your Majesty left it to the sentence of the House, and so was reported by my Lord Treasurer. But now if not per omnipotentiam (as the Divines speak) but per potestatem suaviter disponentem, your Majesty will graciously save me from a sentence with the good liking of the House, and that cup may pass from me; it is the utmost of my desires. This I move with the more belief, because I assure my self that if it be reformation that is sought, the very taking away the Seal, upon my general submission, will be as much in example for these four hundred years, as any furder severity. The means of this I most humbly leave unto your Majesty. But surely I conceive, that your Majesty opening yourself in this kind to the Lords Counsellors, and a motion from the Prince after my submission, and my Lord Marquis using his interest with his friends in the House, may effect the sparing of a sentence; I making my humble suit to the House for that purpose, joined with the delivery of the Seal into your Majesty’s hands. This is the last suit I shall make to your Majesty in this business, prostrating my self at your mercy-seat, after fi fteen years’ service, wherein I have served your Majesty in my poor endeavours with an entire heart, and as I presumed to say into your Majesty, am still a virgin for matters that concern your person or crown; and now only craving that after eight steps of honour I be not precipitated altogether. But because he that hath taken bribes is apt to give bribes, I will go furder, and present your Majesty with a bribe. For if your Majesty give me peace and leisure, and God give me life, I will present your Majesty with a good history of England, and a better digest of your laws. And so concluding with my prayers, I rest.” Lochithea 449

To The Right Honourable The Lords Of The Parliament, In The Upper House Assembled. The Humble Submission And Supplication Of The Lord Chancellor. It may please your Lordships. I shall humbly crave at your Lordships’ hands a benign interpretation of that which I shall now write. For words that come from wasted spirits and an oppressed mind are more safe in being deposited in a noble construction, than in being circled with any reserved caution. This being moved, and as I hope obtained, in the nature of a protection to all that I shall say, I shall now make into the rest of that wherewith I shall at this time trouble your Lordships, a very strange entrance. For in the midst of a state of as great affl iction as I think a mortal man can endure (honour being above life), I shall begin with the professing of gladness in some things. The fi rst is, that hereafter the greatness of a judge or magistrate shall be no sanctuary or protection of guiltiness; which, in few words, is the beginning of a golden world. The next, that after this example, it is like that judges will fl y from anything that is in the likeness of corruption (though it were at a great distance), as from a serpent; which tendeth to the purging of the Courts of Justice, and the reducing them to their true honour and splendour. And in these two points God is my witness that, though to be my fortune to be the anvil whereupon these good effects are beaten and wrought, I take no small comfort. But to pass from the motions of my heart, whereof God is only judge, to the merits of my cause, whereof your Lordships are judges, under God and his lieutenant; I do understand there hath been heretofore expected from me some justifi cation; and therefore I have chosen the only justifi cation instead of all other, out of the justifi cations of Job. For after the clear submission and confession which I shall now make unto your Lordships, I hope I may say and justify with Job in these words: I have not hid my sin as did Adam, nor concealed my faults in my bosom. This is the only justifi cation which I will use. It resteth therefore, that, without fi g-leaves, I do ingenuously confess and acknowledge, that having understood the particulars of the charge, not formally from the House, but enough to inform my conscience and memory, I fi nd matter suffi cient and full, both to move me to desert the defense, and to move your Lordships to condemn and censure me. Neither will I trouble your Lordships by singling those particulars, which I think may fall off. Quid te exempta juvat spinis de pluribus una? Neither will I prompt your Lordships to observe upon the proofs, where they come not home, or the scruples touching the credits of the witnesses. Neither will I represent unto your Lordships, how far a defense might in divers things extenuate the offense, in respect 450 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals of the time or manner of the gift, or the like circumstances, but only leave these things to spring out of your own noble thoughts, and observations of the evidence and examinations themselves; and charitably to wind about the particulars of the charge here and there, as God shall put into your mind; and so submit my self wholly to your piety and grace. And now that I have spoken to your Lordships as judges, I shall say a few words to you as Peers and prelates, humbly commending my cause to your noble minds and magnanimous affections. Your Lordships are not simple judges, but Parliamentary Judges; you have a further extent of arbitrary power than other Courts; and if your Lordships be not tied by the ordinary course of Courts or precedents in points of strictness and severity, much more in points of mercy and mitigation. And yet if anything I shall move might be contrary to your honourable and worthy ends to introduce a reformation, I should not seek it. But herein I beseech your Lordships to give me leave to tell you a story. Titus Manlius took his son’s life for giving battle against the prohibition of his general: not many years after, the like severity was pursued by Papirius Cursor, the Dictator, against Quintus Maximus, who being upon the point to be sentenced, by the intercession of some principal persons of the senate was spared; whereupon Livy maketh this grave and gracious observation. Neque minus fi rmata est disciplina militaris periculo Quinti Maximi, quam miserabili supplicio Tit Manlii. The discipline of war was no less established by the questioning of Quintus Maximus, than by the punishment of Titus Manlius. And the same reason is of the reformation of justice; for the questioning of men of eminent place hath the same terror, though not the same rigour, with the punishment. But my case standeth not there. For my humble desire is, that his Majesty would take the Seal into his hands, which is a great downfall, and may serve I hope in itself for an expiation of my faults. Therefore, if mercy and mitigation be in your power, and do no ways cross your ends, why should I not hope of your Lordships’ favour and commiseration? Your Lordships will be pleased to behold your chief pattern, the King our Sovereign, a King of incomparable clemency, and whose heart is inscrutable for wisdom and goodness. Your Lordships will remember, that there sat not these hundred years before a Prince in your House, and never such a Prince, whose presence deserveth to be made memorable by records and acts mixed of mercy and justice. Yourselves are either nobles (and compassion ever beateth in the veins of noble blood) or reverend prelates, who are the servants of him that would not break the bruised reed nor quench the smoking fl ax. You all sit upon one high stage, and therefore cannot but be more sensible of the changes of the world, and of the fall of any of high place. Neither will your Lordships forget that there are vitia temporis as well as vitia hominis, and that the beginning of reformations hath the contrary power of the pool of Bethesda, for that had strength to cure only him that was fi rst cast in, and this hath commonly strength Lochithea 451 to hurt him only that is fi rst cast in. And for my part, I wish it may stay there, and go no further. Lastly, I assure my self your Lordships have a noble feeling of me, as a member of your own body, and one that in this very session had some taste of your loving affections; which I hope was not a lightning before the death of them, but rather a spark of that grace which now in the conclusion will more appear. And, therefore, my humble suit to your Lordships is, that my penitent submission may be my sentence, and the loss of the Seal my punishment; and that your Lordships will spare any further sentence, but recommend me to his Majesty’s grace and pardon for all that is past. God’s Holy Spirit be amongst you. Your Lordships’ humble servant and suppliant. Fra. St Alban, Canc.

I am in confl ict with the worst, the most sudden, the most painful, the most mortal, and the most irremediable of all diseases; I hath lost honour. “That the Lord Chancellor’s confession is not fully set down by his Lordship in the said submission of three causes. 1. His Lordship confesseth not any particular bribe nor corruption. 2. Nor showeth how his Lordship heard of the charge thereof. 3. The confession, such as it is, is afterwards extenu- ated in the same submission: and therefore the Lords have sent him a particular of the charge, and do expect his answer to the same, with all convenient expedition.” I reply that I shall return the Lords an answer; that I will make no matter of defense to the charge, but meaneth to acknowledge corruption, and to make a particular confession to every point, and after that a humble submission. But humbly I crave the liberty, that where the charge is more full than I fi nd the truth of the fact, I may make declaration of the truth in such particulars; the charge being brief, and containing not all circumstances. I am granted fi ve days to submit my confession as I intendeth.

To The Right Honourable The Lords Spiritual And Temporal, In The High Court Of Parliament Assembled. The Confession And Humble Submission Of Me, The Lord Chancellor. Upon advised consideration of the charge, descending into my own conscience, and calling my memory to account so far as I am able, I do plainly and ingenuously confess that I am guilty of corruption; and do renounce all defense, and put myself upon the grace and mercy of your Lordships. The particulars I confess and declare to be as followeth: To the fi rst article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between Sir Rowland Egerton and Edward Egerton, the Lord Chancellor received fi ve hundred pounds on the part of Sir Rowland Egerton, before he decreed the cause:— I do confess and declare, that upon a reference from his Majesty of all suits and controversies between Sir Rowland Egerton and Edward Egerton, both parties submitted themselves to my award by recognizance reciprocal in ten thousand marks apiece; thereupon, 452 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals after divers hearings, I made my award, with advice and consent of my Lord Hobart. The award was perfected and published to the parties, which was in February; then some days after, the fi ve hundred pounds mentioned in the charge was delivered unto me. Afterwards Mr. Edward Egerton fl ed off from the award; then, in Midsummer term following, a suit was begun in Chancery by Sir Rowland to have the award confi rmed; and upon that suit was the decree made which is mentioned in the article. To the second article of the charge, videlicet, in the same cause he received from Edward Egerton four hundred pounds:— I confess and declare, that soon after my fi rst coming to the Seal (being a time when I was presented by many) the four hundred pounds mentioned in the said charge was delivered unto me in a purse, and I now call to mind from Mr. Edward Egerton; but, as far as I can remember, it was expressed by them that brought it to be for favours past, and not in respect of favours to come. To the third article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between Hodie and Hodye, he received a dozen of buttons of the value of fi fty pounds about a fortnight after the cause was ended:— I confess and declare, that as it is laid in the charge, about a fortnight after the cause was ended (it being a suit of a great inheritance) there were gold buttons about the value of fi fty pounds as is mentioned in the charge, presented unto me, as I remember, by Sir Thomas Perient and the party himself. To the fourth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between the Lady Wharton and the coheirs of Sir Francis Willoughby, he received of the Lady Wharton three hundred and ten pounds:— I confess and declare, that I received of the Lady Wharton, at two several times (as I remember), in gold, two hundred pounds and an hundred pieces; and this was certainly pendente lite:66 but yet I have a vehement suspicion that there was some shuffl ing between Mr. Shute and the Register in entering some orders, which afterwards I did distaste. To the fi fth article of the charge, videlicet, in Sir Thomas Monk’s cause, he received from Sir Thomas Monk, by the hands of Sir Henry Helmes, an hundred and ten pounds; but this was three quarters of a year after the suit was ended:— I confess it to be true, that I received an hundred pieces; but it was long after the suit ended, as is contained in the charge. To the sixth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between Sir John Treavor and Ascue, he received on the part of Sir John Treavor an hundred pounds:— I confess and declare, that I received at New-year’s tide an hundred pounds from Sir John Treavor; and, because it came as a New-Year’s gift, I neglected to inquire whether the cause was ended or depending; but since I fi nd, that though the cause was then dismissed to a trial at law, yet the equity is reserved, so as it was in that kind pendente lite.

66 Of bargain or contract for reward to prevent justice Lochithea 453

To the seventh article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between Holman and Yong, he received of Yong an hundred pounds after the decree made for him:— I confess and declare, that, as I remember, a good while after the cause ended, I received an hundred pounds either by Mr. Tobie Matthew, or from Yong himself: but whereas I understood that there was some money given by Holman to my servant Hatcher, with that certainly I was never made privy.67 To the eighth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between Fisher and Wrenham, the Lord Chancellor, after the decree passed, received from Fisher a suit of hangings worth an hundred and sixty pounds and better, which Fisher gave by advice of Mr. Shute:— I confess and declare, that some time after the decree passed, I being at that time upon remove to York House, I did receive a suit of hangings of the value (I think) mentioned in the charge, by Mr. Shute, as from Sir Edward Fisher, towards the furnishing of my house; as some others, that were no way suitors, did present me the like about that time. To the ninth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between Kenneday and Vanlore, he received a rich cabinet from Kenneday, prized at eight hundred pounds:— I confess and declare, that such a cabinet was brought to my house, though nothing near half the value; and that I said to him that brought it, that I came to view it, and not to receive it; and gave commandment that it should be carried back, and was offended when I heard it was not: and some year and an half after, as I remember, Sir John Kenneday having all that time refused to take it away, as I am told by my servants, I was petitioned by one Pinckney that it might be delivered to him, for that he stood engaged for the money that Sir John Kenneday paid for it. And thereupon Sir John Kenneday wrote a letter to my servant Shereborne, with his own hand, desiring I would not do him that disgrace as to return that gift back, much less to put it into a wrong hand: and so it remains yet ready to be returned to whom your Lordships shall appoint. To the tenth article of the charge, videlicet, he borrowed of Vanlore a thousand pounds upon his own bond at one time, and the like sum at another time, upon his Lordship’s own bill, subscribed by Mr. Hunt, his man:— I confess and declare, that I borrowed the money in the article set down; and that this is a true debt. And I remember well that I wrote a letter from Kew, about a twelvemonth since, to a friend about the King; wherein I desired, that whereas I owed Peter Vanlore two thousand pounds, his Majesty would be pleased to grant me so much out of his ﬁ ne set upon him in the Star Chamber.68

67 “This was claimed by Holman from Bacon’s executors as a debt due from the estate; the executors pleaded that they had been decided by the House of Lords to be bribes.”—James Spedding 68 “The sum was claimed afterwards from the executors as a debt on the estate; the executors pleaded that they had been decided by the House of Lords to be bribes.” In Donnelly’s The Great Cryptogram, vol. ii, p. 643, a letter written by Lord Bacon on this occurrence: “I went to Kew for pleasure, but I met with pain. But neither pleasure nor pain can withdraw my mind from thinking of his Majesty’s service. And because his Majesty shall see how I was occupied at Kew, I send him these papers of Rules for the Star Chamber, wherein his Majesty shall erect one of the noblest and durablest pillars for the justice of this Kingdom in perpetuity that can be; 454 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

To the eleventh article of the charge, videlicet, he received of Richard Scott two hundred pounds after his cause was decreed (but upon a precedent promise), all which was trans- acted by Mr. Shute:— I confess and declare, that some fortnight after, as I remember, that the decree passed, I received two hundred pounds, as from Mr. Scott by Mr. Shute, certain I am, I knew of none. To the twelfth article of the charge, videlicet, he received in the same cause, on the part of Sir John Lentall, an hundred pounds:— I confess and declare, that some months after, as I remember, that the decree passed, I received an hundred pounds by my servant Shereburne, as from Sir John Lentall, who was not the adverse party to Scott, but a third person, relieved by the same decree, in the suit of one Powre. To the thirteenth article of the charge, videlicet, he received of Mr. Wroth an hundred pounds in respect of the cause between him and Sir Arthur Mainwaring:— I confess and declare, that this cause being a cause for inheritance of good value, was ended by my arbitrament, and consent of parties; and so a decree passed of course. And some month after the cause thus ended, the hundred pounds mentioned in the said article was delivered to me by my servant Hunt. To the fourteenth article of the charge, videlicet, he received of Sir Ralph Hansby, having a cause depending before him, fi ve hundred pounds:— I confess and declare, that there were two decrees, one as I remember, for the inheritance, and the other for the goods and chattels, but all upon one Bill; and some good time after the fi rst decree, and before the second, the said fi ve hundred pounds was delivered me by Mr. Tobie Matthew; so as I cannot deny but it was, upon the matter, pendente lite. To the fi fteenth article of the charge, videlicet, William Compton being to have an extent for a debt of one thousand and two hundred pounds, the Lord Chancellor stayed it, and wrote his letter, upon which part of the debt was paid presently, and part at a future day. The Lord Chancellor hereupon sends to borrow fi ve hundred pounds; and because Compton was to pay four hundred pounds to one Huxley, his Lordship requires Huxley to forbear it six months, and thereupon obtains the money from Compton. The money being unpaid, suit grows between Huxley and Compton in Chancery, where his Lordship decrees Compton to pay Huxley the debt, with damages and costs, when it was in his own hands:— I declare, that, in my conscience, the stay of the extent was just, being an extremity against a nobleman, by whom Compton could be no loser. The money was plainly borrowed of Compton upon bond with interest; and the message to Huxley was only to entreat him to give Compton a longer day, and in no sort to make me debtor or responsible to Huxley; and therefore, though I were not ready to pay Compton his money, as I would have been

after by his own wisdom and the advice of his Lords he shall have revised them, and established them. The manner and circumstances I refer to my attending his Majesty. The rules are not all set down, but I will do the rest within two or three days.”—James Spedding Lochithea 455 glad to have done, save only one hundred pounds, which is paid; I could not deny justice to Huxley, in as ample manner as if nothing had been between Compton and me. But if Compton hath been damnifi ed in my respect, I am to consider it to Compton. To the sixteenth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between Sir William Bruncker and Awbrey, the Lord Chancellor received from Awbrey an hundred pounds:— I do confess and declare, that the money was given and received; but the manner of it I leave to the witnesses. To the seventeenth article of the charge, videlicet, in the Lord Mountague’s cause, he received from the Lord Mountague six or seven hundred pounds; and more was to be paid at the ending of the cause:— I confess and declare, there was money given, and (as I remember) by Mr. Bevis Thelwall, to the sum mentioned in the article, after the cause was decreed; but I cannot say it was ended; for there have been many orders since, caused by Sir Francis Englefeild’s contempts; and I do remember that when Thelwall brought the money, he said that my Lord would be further thankful if he could once get his quiet; to which speech I gave little regard. To the eighteenth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause of Mr. Dunch, he received from Mr. Dunch, two hundred pounds:— I confess and declare, that it was delivered by Mr. Thelwall to Hatcher, my servant, for me, as I think, some time after the decree; but I cannot precisely inform my self of the time. To the nineteenth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between Reynell and Peacock, he received from Reynell two hundred pounds, and a diamond ring worth fi ve or six hundred pounds:— I confess and declare, that at my fi rst coming to the Seal, when I was at Whitehall, my servant Hunt delivered me two hundred pounds from Sir George Reynell, my near ally, to be bestowed upon furniture of my house; adding further, that he received divers former favours from me; and this was, as I verily think, before any suit begun. The ring was received certainly pendente lite; and though it were at New-Year’s tide, yet it was too great a value for a New-Year’s gift; though as I take it, nothing near the value mentioned in the article. To the twentieth article of the charge, videlicet, he took of Peacock an hundred pounds, and borrowed a thousand pounds, without interest, security, or time of payment:— I confess and declare, that I received, of Mr. Peacock an hundred pounds at Dorset House, at my fi rst coming to the Seal, as a present; at which time no suit was begun; and that the summer after, I sent my then servant Lister to Mr. Rolf, my good friend and neighbour at St Albans, to use his means with Mr. Peacock (who was accounted a monied man) for the borrowing of fi ve hundred pounds; and after, by my servant Hatcher, for borrowing of fi ve hundred pounds more; which Mr. Rolf procured, and told me, at both times, it should be without interest, script, or note; and that I should take my own time for payment of it.69

69 “This thousand pounds was claimed after Bacon’s death from his executors as a debt due to Peacock from the estate.”—James Spedding 456 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

To the one and twentieth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause between Smithwick and Wich, he received from Smithwick two hundred pounds, which was repaid:— I confess and declare, that my servant Hunt did, upon his account, being my receiver of the fi nes of original writs, charge himself with two hundred pounds, formerly received of Smithwick; which, after that I had understood the nature of it, I ordered him to repay it, and to defaulk it of his account. To the two and twentieth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause of Sir Henry Ruswell, he received money from Ruswell; but it is not certain how much:— I confess and declare, that I received money from my servant Hunt, as from Mr. Ruswell, in a purse; and whereas the sum in the article is indefi nite, I confess it to be three or four hundred pounds; and it was about some months after the cause was decreed; in which decree I was assisted by two of the judges. To the three and twentieth article of the charge, videlicet, in the cause of Mr. Barker, the Lord Chancellor received from Barker seven hundred pounds:— I confess and declare, that the sum mentioned in the article was received from Mr. Barker, some time after the decree passed. 24, 25, 26. To the four and twentieth article, fi ve and twentieth, and six and twentieth articles of the charge, videlicet, the four and twentieth, there being a reference from his Majesty to his Lordship of a business between the grocers and the apothecaries, the Lord Chancellor received of the grocers two hundred pounds. The fi ve and twentieth article: in the same cause, he received of the apothecaries that stood with the grocers, a taster of gold worth between £400 and £500, and a present of ambergrease. And the six and twentieth article: he received of the new company of the apothecaries that stood against the grocers, an hundred pounds:— To these I confess and declare, that the several sums from the three parties were received; and for that it was no judicial business, but a concord or composition between the parties, and that as I thought all had received good, and they were all three common purses, I thought it the less matter to receive that which they voluntarily presented; for if I had taken it in the nature of a corrupt bribe, I knew it could not be concealed, because it must needs be put to account to the three several companies. To the seven and twentieth article of the charge, videlicet, he took of the French merchants a thousand pounds, to constrain the vintners of London to take from them fi fteen hundred tuns of wine; to accomplish which, he used very indirect means by colour of his offi ce and authority, without Bill or suit depending; terrifying the vintners by threats and imprison- ments of their persons, to buy wines whereof they had no need nor use, at higher rates than they were vendible:— I do confess and declare, that Sir Thomas Smith did deal with me in the behalf of the French company; informing me that the vintners by combination would not take off their wines at any reasonable prices. That it would destroy their trade, and stay their voyage for that year; and that it was a fair business, and concerned the State; and he doubted not but I should receive thanks from the King, and honour by it; and that they would gratify me with a thousand pounds for my travail in it; whereupon I treated between them by way of Lochithea 457 persuasion, and (to prevent any compulsory suit) propounding such a price as the vintners might be gainers £6 a tun, as it was then maintained to me; and after, the merchants peti- tioning to the King, and his Majesty recommending the business unto me, as a business that concerned his customs and the navy, I dealt more earnestly and peremptorily in it; and, as I think, restrained in the messengers’ hands for a day or two some that were the most stiff; and afterwards the merchants presented me with a thousand pounds out of their common purse; acknowledging themselves that I had kept them from a kind of ruin; and still maintaining to me, that the vintners, if they were not insatiably minded, had a very competent gain. This is the merits of the cause, as it then appeared unto me. To the eight and twentieth article of the charge, videlicet, the Lord Chancellor hath given way to great exactions by his servants, both in respect of private Seals, and otherwise for sealing of injunctions:— I confess it was a great fault of neglect in me, that I looked no better to my servants. This declaration I have made to your Lordships with a sincere mind; humbly craving that, if there should be any mistaking, your Lordships would impute it to want of memory, and not to any desire of mine to obscure truth, or palliate anything; for I do again confess, that in the points charged upon me, although they should be taken as my self have declared them, there is a great deal of corruption and neglect; for which I am heartily and penitently sorry, and submit myself to the judgment, grace, and mercy of the Court. For extenuation, I will use none concerning the matters themselves; only it may please your Lordships, out of your nobleness, to cast your eyes of compassion upon my person and estate. I was never noted for an avaricious man. And the Apostle saith, that covetousness is the root of all evil. I hope also that your Lordships do the rather fi nd me in the state of grace, for that in all these particulars there are few or none that are not almost two years old; whereas those that have an habit of corruption do commonly wax worse and worse; so that it hath pleased God to prepare me, by precedent degrees of amendment, to my present penitency. And for my estate, it is so mean and poor, as my care is now chiefl y to satisfy my debts. And so, fearing I have troubled your Lordships too long, I shall conclude with an humble suit unto you, that if your Lordships proceed to sentence, your sentence may not be heavy to my ruin, but gracious, and mixt with mercy; and not only so, but that you would be noble intercessors for me to his Majesty likewise, for his grace and favour. Your Lordships’ humble servant and suppliant. Fra. St Alban, Canc.

A committee of twelve arrive at York House; they conceive my confession to be ingenuous and full and acquire if it was writ by my own hand. My Lords, I answer, it is my act, my hand, my heart. I beseech your Lordships, be merciful to a broken reed. The Seal is sequestered by his Majesty upon commission of the Lord Treasurer, the Lord Steward, the Lord Chamberlain, and the Earl of Arundel; they wish it had been better with me, of which I fathom, the worse the better. By the King’s great favour I receive the Great Seal; by my own great fault I lose it. 458 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Deliberation On The Question Of Guilt. Elsing Notes The Camden Society Published In 187070 Agreed to proceed in the business of the Lord Chancellor to-morrow morning. Southampton. The L. Chancellor to have notice and warning to be here then to hear his sentence by 9. The collection of the charges, proofs, and confession, to be considered of by a Committee. Arch. Canterbury. The Lower House to have notice that they come to crave judgment. Agreed, the Gentleman Usher and the Serjeant-at-Arms to warn the L. Chancellor, and to bring him hither. The House resumed … The Usher and Serjeant to summon the L. Chancellor to appear here in person to-morrow by 9. All the Judges to be here in their robes, save one in each Court. The Lower House to be sent for. The Serjeant to carry his mace, and to show it him, but not carry it before him as he did when he had the Seal. Adjornatur to 9 to-morrow. Die Jovis, 3 Maii, 1621. The Gentleman Usher and Mr. Serjeant. That they ﬁ nd the L. Chancellor is sick in bed. He answered that he is so sick that he is not able to repair hither; that this is no excuse, for if he had been well he would willingly have come. Richmond. The charge and confession of the L. Chancellor to be read and compared. It was read per Mr. Attorney at the clerk’s table. L. Chief Justice. First to know orders:— Whether to mention the rejection of the former imperfect answer. Many witnesses examined; whether to take notice of these examinations, or the second submission. Whether to convict him upon every particular, of the general. Question: Such of the Lords as are of opinion that the L. Chancellor is guilty of the offenses as he hath been charged withal, etc., to say content. The question being put, they all agreed that the L. Chancellor is guilty of the matters wherewith he is charged, nemine dissentiente.

70 Spedding: Life, vol. ii, 1878 Lochithea 459

The L. Chief Justice. That they proceed to speak of his punishment. The clerk to take notes of every man’s opinion for the kind of punishment. Huntingdon. The House to be adjourned ad libitum. Prince. A precedent of former Chancellors, the like offense, and what punishment hath been infl icted on them. Arundel. This motion good, if there be any such precedents. L. Chamberlain. Michaell de la Poole questioned for changing of lands with the King. Hunsdon delivered some notes of judgments against Poole, Thorp, etc. read, and he received the note back. Adjournatur ad libitum. Wentworth. If Poole his case concerus this, to be read to the House. Spencer. The King said he would make it a precedent to posterity. Not to trench to life banishment, etc. Arundel. His offenses foul, his confession pitiful. Life not to be touched. L. Chamberlain. A fi ne, ransom, and imprisonment. Sheffi eld. Not to be capable hereafter of any offi ce of judicature or councillor’s place. Saye. To be degraded during life, for unfi t to sit here again amongst us. Arundel. Not to be degraded. L. Chamberlain. To fi ne, ransom, imprisonment. Uncapable of any public offi ce, etc. Not to be degraded. Southampton. We cannot guide our sentence by any precedent, to make an example of this such as posterity may give us thanks for. Banishment or not? Degradation? Opinion that he is fi t to be 460 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals degraded, being made uncapable of any offi ce in the State or Commonwealth. At the least to be degraded during life, and banished for ever coming near the Court. Richmond. Against degradation. Spencer. A man may be attainted, and yet his honour remain, and alleged precedents of many. Saye. Prout antea pro vita. L. Chamberlain. Put it to the question whether to be degraded durante vita. Southampton. Not to be banished, though worthy. L. Treasurer. Fine, etc. no honour touched here, but by way of loss of offi ce, etc. Bill only. Agrees with the L. Chamberlain. Cambridge. Agrees to all save degradation, for that he hath made so clear and ingenuous confession which men of his sort do not. Agrees with L. Chamberlain. Prince. Agrees with Cambridge. Cambridge. The Lord Chancellor never to sit here, nor come near the Court. Arundel. Idem cum L. Treasurer, not to be degraded here, which is not usual but by way of Bill. To be put to the question. Duresme. Not to be degraded, as he may remember from whence he hath fallen. Southampton. Whether he whom this House thinks unfi t to be a constable shall come to the Parliament? He never to come to Parliament again. L. Admiral.71 The Lord Chancellor so sick that he cannot live long.

71 Buckingham Lochithea 461

Southampton. The House resumed. L. Ch. Justice. Question, whether the L. Chancellor— L. Chamberlain. We agree he lose his place in Parliament during life. Question: Whether the Viscount St. Albans shall be suspended of all his titles of nobility during his life, or no? Agreed per plures, not to be suspended, etc. The fi ne and ransom, £40.000 Imprisonment during the King’s pleasure in the Tower. Uncapable of any offi ce, place, or employment in the State or Commonwealth Never to sit in Parliament, nor to come within the verge of the Court Put to the question, whether these punishments above shall be infl icted upon the L. Viscount St. Alban or no? Agreed. Dissentiente L. Admiral. The Lords having agreed upon the sentence to be given against the Lord Chancellor did send a message to the House of Commons, by Mr. Serjeant Crew and Mr. Serjeant Hitcham that the Lords are ready to give judgment against the Lord Viscount St. Alban, Lord Chancellor, if they, with their Speaker, will come to demand it. In the mean time, the Lords put on their robes; and answer being returned of this message and the Commons come; the Speaker came to the Bar, and, making three low obeisances, said:— “The Knights, Citizens, and Burgesses of the Commons House of Parliament have made complaint unto your Lordships of many exorbitant offenses of bribery and corruption committed by the Lord Chancellor. We understand that your Lordships are ready to give judgment upon him for the same. Wherefore I, their Speaker, in their name, do humbly demand and pray judgment against him the Lord Chancellor, as the nature of his offense and demerits do require.” The Lord Chief Justice answered: “Mr. Speaker, upon the complaint of the Commons against the Lord Viscount St Alban, Lord Chancellor, this High Court hath thereby, and by his own confession, found him guilty of the crimes and corruptions complained of by the Commons, and of sundry other crimes and corruptions of like nature. And therefore this High Court (having fi rst summoned him to attend, and having received his excuse of not attending by reason of infi rmity and sickness, which he protested was not feigned, or else he would most willingly have attended) doth nevertheless think fi t to proceed to judgment; and therefore this High Court doth adjudge:— That the Lord Viscount St. Alban, Lord Chancellor of England, shall undergo fi ne and ransom of forty thousand pounds. That he shall be imprisoned in the Tower during the King’s pleasure. 462 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

That he shall forever be incapable of any ofﬁ ce, place, or employment in the State or Commonwealth. That he shall never sit in Parliament, nor come within the verge of the Court.72 This is the judgment and resolution of the High Court.73

Can no man tell of this plagued open door? I am now confi ned in the Tower, I procure the warrant for my discharge; death, I thank God, is so far from being unwelcome to me, as I have called for it (as Christian resolution would permit) any time these two months. But to die before the time of his Majesty’s grace, and in this disgraceful place, is even the worst that could be; and when I am dead, he is gone that was always in one tenor, a true and perfect servant to his master, and one that was never author of any immoderate, no, nor unsafe, no (I will say it) not unfortunate counsel; and one that no temptation could ever make other than a trusty, and honest, and thrice loving friend; and howsoever I acknowledge the sentence just, and for reformation sake fi t, the justest Chancellor that hath been in the fi ve changes since Sir Nicholas Bacon’s time. I know no ways to mince it in more kinder words but directly to say, thankful words in a letter to Buckingham and his Majesty upon my release:

To the Marquis of Buckingham. My very good Lord, I heartily thank your Lordship for getting me out of prison, and now my body is out, my mind nevertheless will be still in prison, till I may be on my feet to do his Majesty and your Lordship faithful service. Wherein your Lordship, by the grace of God, shall ﬁ nd that my adversity hath neither spent nor pent my spirits. God prosper you. Your Lordship’s most obliged friend and faithful servant. Fra. St. Alban.

72 Spedding recalls when Clarendon, three years later, speaking of the impeachment of the Earl of Middlesex says: “But the Duke’s power (supported by the Prince’s countenance) was grown so great in the two Houses, that it was in vain for the King to interpose; and so (notwithstanding as good a defense made by the Earl, that he was absolved from any notorious crime by the impartial opinion of many of those who heard all the evidence) he was at last condemned in a great ﬁ ne, to a long and strict imprisonment, and never to sit in Parliament during his life; a charge of such a nature as was never before found in any judgment of Parliament, and in truth not to be inﬂ icted on a Peer but by attainder.”—History of Rebellion, p. 64 73 Spedding notes: “Bacon never allowed himself to dispute the justice of the sentence to which he had undertaken to submit. But his confession contains his own judgment upon his own case; and though we cannot test it by comparison with the depositions upon which the judgment of the Lords was really based, and which he never saw, we can try it by its correspondence with some other facts not known to them; and their impression of the effect to those depositions will not be accepted as conclusive by those who have studied the rest of the proceedings during that and the two following weeks.” Spedding advises one to see p. 626–636 from his Life, vol. ii, where the account of Bacon’s offenses is noted by Lord Macaulay Lochithea 463

To the King. May it please your most excellent Majesty, I humbly thank your Majesty for my liberty, without which timely grant, any further grace would have come too late. But your Majesty that did shed tears in the beginning of my trouble, will I hope shed the dew of your grace and goodness upon me in the end. Let me live to serve you, else life is but the shadow of death to your Majesty’s most devoted servant. Fra. St. Alban.

To the Lord St Alban. My Lord. I am glad your Lordship understands me so rightly in my last letter, I continue still in the same mind, for I thank God, I am settled to my contentment and so I hope you shall enjoy yours with the more because I am so well pleased in mind. And, my Lord, I shall be very far from taking it ill, if you part with it to any else, judging it alike unrea- sonableness to desire that which is another man’s and to bind him by promise or other wise not to let to another. My Lord, I will move his Majesty to take commiseration of your long imprisonment,74 which in some respects both you and I have reason to think harder, than the Tower; you for the help of physic your parly with your creditors, your conference for your writings and studies, dealing with friends about your business and I for this advantage to be sometimes happy in visiting and conversing with your Lordship, whose company I am much desirous to enjoy, as being tied by ancient acquaintance. Your Lordship’s faithful friend and servant. G. Buckingham.

’Tis no great matter that we make a wry face, if the mind plays its part well: if the body fi nd itself relieved by complaining, let it complain: if agitation ease it, let it tumble and toss at pleasure; if it seem to fi nd the disease evaporate (as some physicians hold that it helps women in delivery) in making loud outcries, or if this do but divert its torments, let it roar as it will. Let us not command this voice to sally, but stop it not. I presently see my self in my wonted state from the Tower to Sir John Vaughan’s house at Fulham of where I hear of some disgraceful fall with Sir Francis Michell who is brought by the sheriffs of London to Westminster Hall. Soon appeared Commissioners for the offi ce of the Earl Marshall, namely the Keeper of the Privy Seal, the Duke of Lennox, the Marquess of Buckingham, the Earl of Arundel, and a number of Barons as spectators. In their presence, Francis Michell is brought to the Bar. Then, Parliament’s sentence ’gainst him is read aloud in a loud voice by Philpot, the Pursuivant at Arms. His spurs are cut off and cast aside by servants of the Earl Marshal. Then he is relieved of his sword, which is silver when it is supposed to have been gilded, which is broken over his head and cast aside. Finally, it is pronounced that he is no longer a gilded Knight, but rather a knave,

74 “Restraint from coming within the verge of the Court.”—R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 464 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals as once was Andrew de Herclay, when Anthony Lucy degraded him.75 From me, one more letter of gratitude from my hand is of want:

To The Prince Of Wales. It may please your Highness, when I call to mind how infi nitely I am bound to your Highness, that stretched forth your arm to save me from a sentence; that took hold of me to keep me from being plunged deep in a sentence; that hath kept me alive in your gracious memory and mention since the sentence; pitying me as (I hope) I deserve, and valuing me far above that I can deserve; I fi nd my words almost as barren as my fortunes, to express unto your Highness the thankfulness I owe. Therefore I can but resort to prayers to Almighty God to clothe you with His most rich and precious blessings, and likewise joyfully to meditate upon those He hath conferred upon you already; in that He hath made you to the King, your father, a principal part of his safety, contentment and continuance: in yourself so judicious, accomplished, and graceful in all your doings, with more virtues in the buds (which are the sweetest) than have been known in a young Prince, of long time; with the Realm so well beloved, so much honoured, as it is men’s daily observation how nearly you approach to his Majesty’s perfections; how every day you exceed yourself; how, compared with other Princes which God hath ordained to be young at this time, you shine amongst them; they rather setting off your religions, moral, and natural excellencies, than matching them, though you be but a second person. These and such like meditations if need upon, since I can yield your Highness no other retribution. And for my self, I hope by the assistance of God above (of whose grace and favour I have had extraordinary signs and effects during my affl ictions) to lead such a life in the last acts thereof, as either his Majesty employ me, or whether I live to my self, I shall make the world say that I was not unworthy such a patron. I am much beholding to your Highness’ worthy servant Sir John Vaughan, the sweet air and loving usage of whose house hath already much revived my languishing spirits; I beseech your Highness, thank him for me. God ever preserve and prosper your Highness. Your Highness’ most humble, and most bounden servant. Fra. St Alban.

As wont with his Majesty, he be not ashamed to speak, what he is not ashamed to think: he seeketh my opinion concerning the sacred intention he hath to go on with reformation of his Courts of Justice, and relieving the grievances of his people, which Parliament hath entered into. I do ﬁ nd that his Majesty’s Star Chamber, next his Court of Parliament, is his highest chair. He never came upon that mount but his garments did shine before he went off. It is the supreme Court of judicature ordinary; it is an open council. Nothing I would think can be more seasonable (if his other appointments permit it) than if his Majesty will be pleased to come thither in person, the morrow of this term (which is the time anniver- sary before the circuits and the long vacation) and there make an open declaration: that he purpose to pursue the reformation, which the Parliament hath begun. That all things go well in all affairs, when the Ordinary and the Extraordinary are well mingled and

75 William Camden’s Diaries Lochithea 465 tempered together. That in matters of his treasure he did rely upon his Parliament for the Extraordinary; but he were ever desirous to do what he could by improvements, retrench- ments, and the like, to set the Ordinary in good frame and establishment. That he is of the same mind in matter of reformation of justice and grievance, to assist him self with the advice and authority of Parliament at times, but meanwhile to go on with the same intentions by his own regal power and care. That it doth well in church music when the greatest part of the hymn is sung by one voice, and then the choir at times falls in sweetly and solemnly, and that the same harmony sorteth well in monarchy between the King and his Parliament. I continue to advise: that great reformations are best brought to perfection by a good correspondence between the King and his Parliament, and by well sorting the matters and the times; for in that which the King doth by his ordinary administration and proceedings, neither can the information be so universal, not the complaint so well encouraged, nor the references many times do free form private affections, as then the King proceedeth by Parliament. Ned Sherburne, holding two posts: my secretary and Carleton’s fi nancial agent, takes to himself much worry and tiredness. A ripple of a wave begins with those connected around me: Robert Bell, an East Indian merchant, take word to many that Dudley Carleton had handled all ventures in representation of grievances of the East India Company in good effect. My state sees me for Gorhambury. My young friends by my side; for it hath been observed, that old men who have loved young company and been conversant continually with them, have been of long life; their spirits, as it seemeth, being recreated by such company. Such were the ancient sophists and rhetoricians; which ever had young auditors and disciples; as Gorgias, Protagoras, Isocrates, &c., who lived till they were an hundred years old. And so likewise did many of the grammarians and school-masters; such as was Orbilius, &c.,76 My present urgent occasions, to take some present order for the debts that press me most, I petition his Majesty to give me leave to stay at London till the last of summer, and then I will dispose of my abode according to the sentence. Though the matter seemeth small, yet it importeth me much. I forward Meautys with my petition and humbly thank Buckingham for his grace and favour he did both to the message and messenger, in bringing Meautys to kiss his Majesty’s hands, and to receive his pleasure from himself. My riches in my adversity have been, that I have had a good master, a good friend, and a good servant. His Majesty perceives I should remain at Gorhambury for this period of wherein my thoughts come to writing a history of England from the Union of the Roses to the Union of the Kingdoms and of a digest of the laws. I perceive by some speech that passeth between Meautys and Buckingham, that some wretched detractor hath told him that it were strange I should be in debt; for that I could not but have received an hundred thousand pounds gifts since I had the Seal; which is an abominable falsehood. Such tales as these made St. James say that the tongue is a fi re, and itself fi red from hell, whither when these tongues shall return, they will beg a drop of cold water to cool them. I praise God for it, I never took penny for any benefi ce or ecclesiastical

76 Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, 1627; vol. i. Century x. (942) 466 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals living, I never took penny for releasing anything I stopped at the Seal, I never took penny of any commission or things of that nature, I never shared with any servant for any second or inferior profi t. My offenses I have myself recorded; wherein I studied, as a good confes- sant, guiltiness and not excuse. As for my debts, I showed them to Buckingham, when he saw the little house and the gallery of Verulam, besides a little wood or desert. If these things were not true (although the joys of the penitent be sometimes more than the joys of the innocent) I could not be as I am.77 Falsehood be a faulty fault indeed. ’Tis no matter, life pricks me on. I hear of the Keeper of the Seal visits Westminster Hall without ceremony. Methinks after seventeen years of service to his Majesty, and since my fi rst service, which was in the Commission of the Union, of which I received never chiding or rebuking, but always with sweetness and thanks; or ever chargeable to his Majesty, but got my means in an honourable sweat of my labour, and he graciously pleased to bestow upon me the pension of twelve hundred pounds, for a few years for in that other poor prop of my estate, which is the farm of the petty wits, I improved his Majesty’s revenue by four hundred pounds the year. Likewise, when receiving the Seal, I left both the Attorney’s place, which was a gainful place, and the Clerkship of the Star Chamber which was Queen Elizabeth’s favour, and was worth twelve hundred pounds by the year, which would have been a good commendam. The honours given by his Majesty put me above the means to get my living; and the misery I am fallen into hath put me below the means to subsist as I am. With oblation in conference with creditors and consultation of my physicians, I am offered to leave Gorhambury for London, and stay six weeks. My prohibition to come within the verge restricted my visits for Sir Robert Cotton’s library, of where I was need to access for the history of Henry VII.78 [It seems adequate to add the following from James Spedding’s preface to Francis Bacon’s The History of the Reign of Henry VII. (Works, vol xi; p. 21–23): “It is not however to a difference of taste merely, that the low place which it holds [The History of the Reign of Henry VII.] in popular estimation must be attributed. It is connected no doubt with a very prevalent, though a very erroneous, impression, that it is not a true portraiture of the time; that is was written with other objects than those of a faithful historian; written not to reproduce a true image of Henry the Seventh, but to fl atter the humour of James the

77 From Lord Bacon’s letter to Buckingham in the summer of 1621 78 Spedding: Works, vol. xi. Preface to The History of the Reign of Henry VII; p. 13–40: “What Sir Robert Cotton could supply was liberally communicated; but Cotton house was within the forbidden precinct, and any man who has attempted this kind of work knows how imperfect a substitue another man’s eyes and judgment are for his own. For the rest of his raw material he must have trusted entirely to the published histories then extant; to Fabyan, who furnished only a naked and imperfect chronicle of London news; to Polydore Vergil, who supplied a narrative, continuous indeed and aspring to be historical, but superﬁ cial and careless and full of errors; to Hall and Holinshed, who did little more than translate and embellish Polydore; to Stowe, who independent and original researches had only contributed a few additional facts and dates; and to Speed, whose history though enriched with some valuable records and digested with a more discriminating judgment than had been brought to the task before, was yet composed for the most part out of the old materials, and retained almost all the errors.” The original manuscript lies in the British Museum; additional MSS. Vol. 7084. Lochithea 467

First by drawing such a picture of his ancestor as should indirectly refl ect honour on himself. I do not know into whose imagination this idea fi rst entered, but it lies at the bottom of the most modern criticisms, and is set forth at large by Sir James Mackintosh in a note appended to the second volume of his History of England, in Lardner’s Cabinet Cyclopædia. The question being too serious to be passed over, and the authority too respectable to be overruled without showing reasons, I shall quote his note at length. ‘Lord Bacon was the man of highest intellect among the writers of history; but he was not the greatest historian. History ought to be without passion; but if it be without feeling, it loses the interest which bestows on it the power of being useful. The narrative of human actions would be thrown aside as a mere catalogue of names and dates, if it did not maintain its sway by inspiring the reader with pity for the sufferer, with anger against the oppressor, and with earnest desires for the triumph of right over might. The defects of Bacon’s nature conspired with the faults of its conception of history to taint his work with lukewarm censure of falsehood and extortion, with a cool display of the expedients of cunning, and with too systematic a representation of the policy of a monarch in whose history he chose to convey a theory of kingcraft and the likeness of its ideal model. A writer who has been successful in unravelling an intricate character often becomes indulgent to the man whose seeming inconsistencies he has explained, and may at length regard the workings of his own ingenuity with a complacency which prevails over his indignation. Aristotle, who fi rst attempted a theory of usurpation, has escaped the appearance of this fault, partly because sensibility is not expected, and would displease in a treaties on government. Machiavel was unhappily too successful in silencing his abhorrence of crimes; but this fault is chiefl y to be found in The Prince, which is a treatise on the art of winning and keeping tyrannical power; which was destined by the writer neither to instruct tyrants nor to warn nations against their arts, but simply to add the theory of these arts to the stock of human knowledge; as a philosophical treatise on poisons might be intended only to explain their nature and effects, though the information contained in it might be abused by the dealer in poison, or usefully employed for cure or relief by the physician. Lord Bacon displayed a much smaller degree of this vice, but he displayed it in history, where it is far more unpardonable. In the singular passage where he lays down the theory of the advancement of fortune (which he knew so well and practised so ill), he states the maxim which induce the Grecian and Italian philosophers to compose their dissertations, “that there be not anything in being or action which should not be drawn into contemplation or doctrine.” He almost avows an intention of embodying in the person of his hero (if that be the proper term) too much of the ideal conception of a wary, watchful, unbending ruler, who considers men and affairs merely as they affect him and his Kingdom; who has no good quality higher then prudence; who is taught by policy not to be cruel when he is secure, but who treats pity and affection like malice and hatred, as passions which disturb his thoughts and bias his judgment. So systematic a purpose cannot fail to destroy character and events, and to divest both of their power over feeling. It would have been impossible for Lord Bacon, if he had not been betrayed by his chilling scheme, to prefer Louis XI. to Louis XII., and to declare that Louis XI., Ferdinand the Catholic, and Henry VII., were the “three magi among the Kings of the age;” though it be true that Henry was the least odious of the three royal sages. 468 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

It is due in the strictest justice to Lord Bacon not to omit, that the history was written to gratify James I., to whom he was then suing for bitter bread, who revised it, and whom he addressed in the following words:—‘I have therefore chosen to write the reign of Henry VII., who was in a sort your forerunner; and whose spirit as well as his blood is doubled upon your Majesty.’ Bacon had just been delivered from prison: he had passed his sixtieth year, and was galled by unhonoured poverty. What wonder if in these circumstances even his genius sunk under such a patron and such a theme!”79

I am of hope for a private meeting with his Majesty; amongst the subjects I am to confer with his Majesty, if contemplative, is of The Holy War, of which I meditate upon whilst Loffelt, my servant, prepares my breakfast: a scruple of cremor tartar in some chicken broth. In the evening, at seven, he prepares a soft purgation; a quarter of an ounce of rhu- barb, with some grains of schoenanthi, together soaked in wine for an hour then wrung out well and without using any ﬁ re. Having taken this, I await the result till eleven or twelve at night still of my studies of work. All have gone to bed except my valet.80

Francis Bacon Essay XXIX. Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms and Estates. The speech of Themistocles the Athenian, which was haughty and arrogant in taking so much to himself, had been a grave and wise observation and censure, applied at large to others. Desired at a feast to touch a lute, he said, He could not fi ddle, but yet he could make a small town a great city. These words (holpen a little with a metaphor) may express two differing abilities in those that deal in business of estate. For if a true survey be taken of counsellors and statesmen, there may be found (though rarely) those which can make a small state great, and yet cannot fi ddle: as on the other side, there will be found a great many that can fi ddle very cunningly, but yet are so far from being able to make a small state great, as their gift lieth the other way; to bring a great and fl ourishing estate to ruin and decay. And, certainly those degenerate arts and shifts, whereby many counsellors and governors gain both favour with their master and estimation with the vulgar, deserve no better name than fi ddling; being things rather pleasing for the time, and graceful to themselves only, than tending to the wheel and advancement of the state which they serve. There are also (no doubt) counsellors and governors which may be held suffi cient (negotiis pares), able to manage affairs, and to keep them from precipices and manifest inconveniences; which nevertheless are far from the ability to raise and amplify an estate in power, means, and fortune. But be the workmen what they may be, let us speak of the work; that is, the true Greatness of Kingdoms and Estates, and the means thereof. An argument fi t for great and mighty Princes to have in their hand; to the end that neither by over-measuring their forces, they lease themselves in vain enterprises; nor on the other side, by undervaluing them, they descend to fearful and pusillanimous counsels. The greatness of an estate in bulk and territory doth fall under measure; and the greatness of fi nances and revenew doth fall under computation. The population may appear by

79 Quoted from Lardner’s Cyclopædia, History Of England, vol. ii. p. 362 80 Extract from Athenæum, June 10, 1871 Lochithea 469

musters; and the number and greatness of cities and towns by cards and maps. But yet there is not any thing amongst civil affairs more subject to error, than the right valuation and true judgment concerning the powers and forces of an estate. The Kingdom of heaven is compared, not to any great kernel or nut, but to a grain of mustard-seed; which is one of the least grains, but hath in it a property and spirit hastily to get up and spread. So are there states great in territory, and yet not apt to enlarge or command; and some that have but a small dimension of stem, and yet apt to be the foundations of great monarchies. Walled towns, stored arsenals and armouries, goodly races of horse, chariots of war, ele- phants, ordinance, artillery, and the like; all this is but a sheep in a lion’s skin, except the breed and disposition of the people be stout and warlike. Nay, number (itself) in armies importeth not much, where the people is of weak courage; for (as Virgil saith) It never troubles a wolf how many the sheep be. The army of the Persians in the plains or Arbela was such a vast sea of people, as it did somewhat astonish the commanders in Alexander’s army; who came to him therefore, and wished him to set upon them by night; but he answered, He would not pilfer the victory. And the defeat was easy. When Tigranes the Armenian, being encamped upon a hill with four hundred thousand men, discovered the army of the Romans, being not above fourteen thousand, marching towards him, he made himself merry with it, and said, Yonder men are too many for an ambassage, and too few for a fi ght. But before the sun set, he found them enow to give him the chase with infi nite slaughter. Many are the examples of the great odds between number and courage: so that a man may truly make a judgment, that the principal point of greatness in any state is to have a race of military men. Neither is money the sinews of war (as it is trivially said,) where the sinews of men’s arms, in base and effeminate people, are failing. For Solon said well to Crœsus (when in ostentation he shewed him his gold,) Sir, if any other came that hath better iron than you, he will be master of all this gold. Therefore let any Prince or state think soberly of his forces, except his militia of natives be of good and valiant soldiers. And let Princes, on the other side, that have subjects of martial disposition, know their own strength; unless they be otherwise wanting unto themselves. As for mercenary forces (which is the help in this case), all examples show that whatsoever estate or Prince doth rest upon them, he may spread his feathers for a time, but he will mew them soon after. The blessing of Judah and Issachar will never meet; that the same people or nation should be both the lion’s whelp and the ass between burthens; neither will it be, that a people overlaid with taxes should ever become valiant and martial. It is true that taxes levied by consent of the estate do abate men’s courage less: as it hath been seen notably in the excises of the Low Countries; and, in some degree, in the subsidies of England. For you must note that we speak now of the heart and not of the purse. So that although the same tribute and tax, laid by consent or by imposing, be all one to the purse, yet it works diversely upon the courage. So that you may conclude, that no people over-charged with tribute is fi t for empire. Let states that aim at greatness, take heed how their nobility and gentlemen do multiply too fast. For that maketh the common subject grow to be a peasant and base swain, driven out of heart, and in effect but the gentleman’s labourer. Even as you may see in coppice woods; if you leave your saddles too thick, you shall never have clean underwood, but shrubs 470 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and bushes. So in countries, if the gentlemen be too many, the commons will be base; and you will bring it to that, that not the hundred poll will be fi t for an helmet; especially as to the infantry, which is the nerve of an army; and so there will be great population and little strength. This which I speak of hath been no where better seen than by comparing of England and France; whereof England, though far less in territory and population, hath been (nevertheless) an over-match; in regard the middle people of England make good soldiers, which the peasants of France do not. And herein the device of King Henry the Seventh (whereof I have spoken largely in the history of his life) was profound and admirable; in making farms and houses of husbandry of a standard; that is, maintained with such a proportion of land unto them, as may bread a subject to live in convenient plenty and no servile condition; and to keep the plough in the hands of the owners, and not mere hirelings. And thus indeed you shall attain to Virgil’s character which he gives to ancient Italy: Terra potens armis atque ubere glebæ: [A land powerful in arms and in productiveness of soil.] Neither is that state (which, for any thing I know, is almost peculiar to England, and hardly to be found any where else, except it be perhaps in Poland) to be passed over; I mean the state of free servants and attendants upon noblemen and gentlemen; which are no ways inferior unto the yeomanry for arms. And therefore out of all question, the splendour and magnifi cence and great retinues and hospitality of noblemen and gentlemen, received into custom, doth much conduce unto martial greatness. Whereas, contrariwise, the close and reserved living of noblemen and gentlemen causeth a penury of military forces. By all means it is to be procured, that the trunk of Nebuchadnezzar’s tree of monarchy be great enough to bear the branches and the boughs; that is, that the natural subjects of the crown or state bear a suffi cient proportion to the stranger subjects that they govern. Therefore all states that are liberal of naturalization towards strangers are fi t for empire. For to think that an handful of people can, with the greatest courage and policy in the world, embrace too large extent of dominion, it may hold for a time, but it will fail suddenly. The Spartans were a nice people in point of naturalization; whereby, while they kept their compass, they stood fi rm; but when they did spread, and their boughs were becomen too great for their stem, they became a windfall upon the sudden. Never any state was in this point so open to receive strangers into their body as were the Romans. Therefore it sorted with them accordingly; for they grew to the greatest monarchy. Their manner was to grant naturalisation (which they called jus civitatis), and to grant it in the highest degree; that is, not only jus commercii, jus conubii, jus hœreditatis; but also jus suffragii, and jus honorum. And this not to singular persons alone, but likewise to whole families; yea to cities, and sometimes to nations. Add to this their custom of plantation of colonies; whereby the Roman plant was removed into the soil of other nations. And putting both constitutions together, you will say that it was not the Romans that spread upon the world, but it was the world that spread upon the Romans; and that was the sure way of greatness. I have marvelled sometimes at Spain, how they clasp and contain so large dominions with so few natural Spaniards; but sure the whole compass of Spain is a very great body of a tree; far above Rome and Sparta at the fi rst. And besides, though they have not had that usage to naturalise liberally, yet they have that which is next to it; that is, to employ almost indifferently all nations in their militia of ordinary soldiers; yea and sometimes in their highest Lochithea 471 commands. Nay it seemeth at this instant they are sensible of this want of natives; as by the Pragmatical Sanction, now published, appeareth. It is certain, that sedentary and within-door arts, and delicate manufactures (that require rather the fi nger than the arm), have in their nature a contrariety to a military disposition. And generally, all warlike people are a little idle, and love danger better than travail. Neither must they be too much broken of it, if they shall be preserved in vigour. Therefore it was great advantage in the ancient states of Sparta, Athens, Rome, and others, that they had the use of slaves, which commonly did rid those manufactures. But that is abolished, in greatest part, by the Christian law. That which cometh nearest to it, is to leave those arts chiefl y to strangers (which for that purpose are the more easily to be received), and to contain the principal bulk of the vulgar natives within those three kinds,—tillers of the ground; free servants; and handicraftsmen of strong and manly arts, as smiths, masons, carpenters, &c.: not reckoning professed soldiers. But above all, for empire and greatness, it importeth most, that a nation do profess arms as their principal honour, study, and occupation. For the things which we formerly have spoken of are but habilitations towards arms; and what is habilitation without intention and act? Romulus, after his death (as they report or feign), sent a present to the Romans, that above all they should intend arms; and then they should prove the greatest empire of the world. The fabric of the state of Sparta was wholly (though not wisely) framed and composed to that scope and end. The Persians and Macedonians had it for a fl ash. The Gauls, Germans, Goths, Saxons, Normans, and others, had it for a time. The Turks have it at this day, though in great declination. Of Christian Europe, they that have it are, in effect, only the Spaniards. But it is so plain that every man profi teth in that he most intendeth, not it needeth not to be stood upon. It is enough to point at it; that no nation which doth not directly profess arms, may look to have greatness fall into their mouths. And on the other side, it is a most certain oracle of time, that those states that continue long in that profession (as the Romans and Turks principally have done) do wonders. And those that have professed arms but for an age, have notwithstanding commonly attained that greatness in that age which maintained them long after, when their profession and exercise of arms hath grown to decay. Incident to this point is, for a state to have those laws or customs which may reach forth unto them just occasions (as may be pretended) of war. For there is that justice imprinted in the nature of men, that they enter not upon wars (whereof so many calamities doe ensue) but upon some, at the least specious, grounds and quarrels. The Turk hath at hand, for cause of war, the propagation of his law or sect; a quarrel that he may always command. The Romans, though they esteemed the extending the limits of their empire to be great honour to their generals when it was done, yet they never rested upon that alone to begin a war. First therefore, let nations that pretend to greatness have this; that they be sensible of wrongs, either upon borderers, merchants, or politic ministers; and that they sit not too long upon a provocation. Secondly, let them be prest and ready to give aids and succours to their confederates; as it ever was with the Romans; insomuch, as if the confederates had leagues defensive with divers other states, and, upon invasion offered, did implore their aids severally, yet the Romans would ever be the foremost, and leave it to none other to 472 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals have the honour. As for the wars which were anciently made on the behalf of a kind of party, or tacit conformity of estate, I do not see how they may be well justifi ed: as when the Romans made a war for the liberty of Græcia; or when the Lacedæmonians and Athenians made wars to set up or pull down democracies and oligarchies; or when wars were made by foreigners, under the pretence of justice or protection, to deliver the subjects of others from tyranny and oppression; and the like. Let it suffi ce, that no estate expect to be great, that is not awake upon any just occasion of arming. No body can be healthful without exercise, neither natural body nor politic; and certainly to a Kingdom or Estate, a just and honourable war is the true exercise. A civil war indeed is like the heat of a fever; but a foreign war is like the heat of exercise, and serveth to keep the body in health; for in a slothful peace, both courages will effeminate and manners corrupt. But howsoever it be for happiness, without all question, for greatness it maketh, to be still for the most part in arms; and the strength of a veteran army (though it be a chargeable business) always on foot, is that which commonly giveth the law, or at least the reputation, amongst all neighbour state; as may well be seen in Spain, which hath had, in one part or other, a veteran army almost continually, now by the space of six score years. To be master of the sea is an abridgment of a monarchy. Cicero, writing to Atticus of Pompey his preparation against Cæsar, saith, Consilium Pompeii plane Themistocleum est; putat enim, qui mari potitur, eum rerum potiri; [Pompey is going upon the policy of Themistocles; thinking that he who commands the sea commands all.] And, without doubt, Pompey had tired out Cæsar, if upon vain confi dence he had not left that way. We see the great effects of battles by sea. The battle of Lepanto arrested the greatness of the Turk. There be many examples where sea fi ghts have been fi nal to the war; but this is when Princes or states have set up their rest upon the battles. But thus much is certain, that he that commands the sea is at great liberty, and may take as much and as little of the war as he will. Whereas those that be strongest by land are many times nevertheless in great straits. Surely, at this day, with us of Europe, the vantage of strength at sea (which is one of the principal dowries of this Kingdom of Great Britain) is great; both because most of the Kingdoms of Europe are not merely inland, but girt with the sea most part of their compass; and because the wealth of both Indies seems in great part but an accessory to the command of the seas. The wars of latter ages seem to be made in the dark, in respect of the glory and honour which refl ected upon men from the wars in ancient time. There be now, for martial encouragement, some degrees and orders of chivalry; which nevertheless are conferred promiscuously upon soldiers and no soldiers; and some remembrance perhaps upon the scutcheon; and some hospitals for maimed soldiers; and such like things. But in ancient times, the trophies erected upon the place of the victory; the funeral laudatives and monuments for those that died in the wars; the crowns and garlands personal; the style of Emperor, which the great Kings of the world after borrowed; the triumphs of the generals upon their return; the great donatives and largesses upon the disbanding of the armies; were things able to infl ame all men’s courages. But above all, that of the triumph, amongst the Romans, was not pageants or gaudery, but one of the wisest and noblest institutions that ever was. For it contained three things: honour to the general; riches to the treasury out of the spoils; and donatives to the army. But that honour perhaps were not fi t for Lochithea 473

monarchies; except it be in the person of the monarch himself, or his sons; as it came to pass in the times of the Roman emperors, who did impropriate the actual triumphs to themselves and their sons, for such wars as they did achieve in person; and left only, for wars achieved by subjects, some triumphal garments and ensigns to the general. To conclude: no man can by care taking (as the Scripture saith) add a cubit to his stature, in this little model of a man’s body; but in the great frame of Kingdoms and Commonwealths, it is in the power of Princes or Estates to add amplitude and greatness to their Kingdoms; for by introducing such ordinances, constitutions, and customs, as we have touched, they may sow greatness to their posterity and succession. But these things are commonly not observed, but left to take their chance.

Novum Organum hath an imperfect shape; I deserveth to be an architect in this building; it may well appear I be forced to be a workman and a labourer, and to dig the clay and burn the brick; and more that to gather the straw and stubble over all the ﬁ elds to burn the bricks withal, for my pen wits are sequestered. A copy is forwarded to the University of Cambridge: “Seeing I am your son, and your disciple, it will much please me to repose in your bosom, the issue which I have latterly brought forth into the world; for otherwise I should look upon it as an expose child. Let it not trouble you, that the way in which I go is new: such things will of necessity, happen in the revolutions of several ages. However, the honour of the ancients is secured: that, I mean, which is due to their wit. For faith is only due to the word of God, and to experience. Now, for bringing back the sciences to experience, is not a thing to be done: but to raise them anew from experience, is indeed, a very difﬁ cult and laborious, but not a hopeless undertaking. God prosper you and your studies. Your most loving son. Francis Verulam, Chancel.” No private meeting with his Majesty; my pension now to the amount of £800 in arrear; Coriolanus and Julius Caesar are summoned on the boards81 as Tobie Matthew is summoned and arrives in England that the King may employ his assistance in several matters of which I hath no learning to, for Buckingham be in France with Prince Charles:82

Prince Charles and the Marquis of Buchingham while incognito at Paris, to the King. Sir. Since the closing of our last we have been at Court again, (and that we might not houd [hold] you in pain, we assure you that we have not been knowen,) where we saw the young Queen, little Monsieur, and Madame, at the practising of a Maske that is intended by the Queen to be presented to the King, and in it there danced the Queen and Madame with as many as made up nineteen faire dancing Ladies, amongst which the Queen is the hand- somest which hath wrought in me a greater desire to see her sister. So in haste, going to bed, we humblie take our leave and rest.

81 William R. Leigh: Clipt Wings, 1930 82 MS Harl 6987. art. 6. Orig. 474 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Your Majesty’s most humble and obedient son and servant. Charles. and your humble slave and doge STEENIE83

’Twas time to form my petition:

To The King’s Most Excellent Majesty. The Humble Petition Of The Lord Verulam, Viscount St Alban. That whereas your supplicant, for reward of full sixteen years’ service in the painfullest places of your Kingdom (how acceptable or useful, he appealeth to your Majesty’s gracious remembrance), had of your Majesty’s grace and bounty two grants, both under the Great Seal of England, the one a pension of £1.200, the other a farm of the petty writs, about £600 per annum in value, which was long since assigned to your supplicant’s wife’s friends in trust for her maintenance; which two grants are now the substance of your supplicant’s and his wife’s means, and the remain of your Majesty’s former favours, except his dignities, which without means are but burdens to his fortunes:—so it is (most gracious Sovereign), that both these are now taken from him. The pension stopped, the lease seized. The pension being at this present an arrear of £500 and at Michaelmas £800 is stopped as he conceiveth upon the general stop of pensions; though he hopeth assuredly that your Majesty, that looketh with the gracious eyes of a King and not the strict eye of an offi cer, will behold his case as special, if not singular. The latter was fi rst seized for satisfaction of a private gentleman, your supplicant unheard, and without any shadow of a legal course; since it hath been continued, in respect of a debt to your Majesty for the arrear of rent upon the same farm, amounting to £1.500. But whereas your Majesty’s farmers debtors for their rents, and other your debtors, have usually favours, sometimes of stallment, sometimes upon equity, if their farms decay; or at least they are called upon; have days given; put in security, or the like; and seizure or sequestration is the last extremity; your supplicant was never so much as sent to, no warning to provide, no days given, but put of possession suddenly by a private and peremptory warrant, without any spark of those favours used to the meanest subjects. So that now your supplicant having left little of no annual is in great extremity, having spread the remnants of his former fortunes in jewels and plate and the like upon his poor creditors scarce leaving bread to himself and his family. In tender consideration whereof, your supplicant and overthrown servant doth implore your Majesty’s grace and goodness felt by so many, known to all, and whereof he cannot live to despair, fi rst, in general, that your Majesty will not suffer him upon whose arm your Princely arm hath so often been when you presided in counsel (so near he was), and who hath borne your image in metal but more in his heart, utterly to perish, to, which is worse, to live in his last days in an abject and sordid condition. Next, in particular, that your Majesty would be graciously pleased to take present order to have the arrear of his pension

83 Postscript in Buckinghham’s hand-writing Lochithea 475 paid, and likewise that for the future it may be settled, that he be not at courtesy, nor to beg at that door which is like enough to be shut against him. Secondly, that the possession of his wife’s lease may be restored unto her; and this bit of arrear to your Majesty, that you will be pleased to remit, according to your Majesty’s gracious and pious promise, when you admitted him to you in the height of his troubles, which was, that you would not meddle with his estate but to mend it. In the restoring the possession, you shall remove your hand of seizure: in the remitting of the rent, you shall extend your hand of grace: and if he be not worthy of so much favour as to have it released, that it may be respited from some good time, that he may in the meanwhile make somewhat of that his father left him, and keep himself out of want, in such sort that your supplicant that aspireth but to live to study be not put to study to live. And he, according to his bounden duty, shall not intermit, as ever he hath done, to pray to God for your Majesty’s health and happiness.

Meautys informs me thus:

May It Please Your Lordship. As soon as I came to London, I repaired to Sir Edward Sackville, whom I ﬁ nd very zealous to do you service, in any particular you shall command him with my Lord Marquis, and he imparted to me what advice he had given to my Lady this afternoon upon his visiting her at York House, where Mr. Packer also was come to see my Lady, and seemed to concur with Sir Edward Sackville in the same ways: which were, for my Lady to become a suitor to my Lady Buckingham and my Lady Marquis to work my Lord Marquis for obtaining from the King some bounty towards your Lordship; and in particular that of the £1.000 a year for small writs. If I may speak my opinion to your Lordship, it is not amiss to begin any way, or with any particular though by small game at ﬁ rst, only to set a rusty clock agoing, and then happily it may go right for a time, enough to bring on the rest of your Lordship’s requests. Yet because your Lordship directed me to wish my Lady from you by no means to act anything until she should receive your further directions, it became not me to be too forward in putting it on too fast with Sir Edward, and my Lady was pleased to tell me since, that she hath written to your Lordship at large. Your Lordship’s forever to honour and serve. T. Meautys.

Upon further communication with Meautys:

May It Please Your Lordship. This afternoon my Lady found access to my Lord Marquis, procured for her by my Lord of Montgomery and Sir Edward Sackville, who seemed to contend which to them should show most patience on waiting, which they did a whole afternoon, the opportunity to bring my Lord to his chamber where my Lady attended him. But when he was come she found time enough to speak at large: and though my Lord spake so loud that what passed was no secret to me and some others that were within hearing, yet because my Lady told 476 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals me she purposeth to write to your Lordship, it becomes not me to anticipate by these any part of her Ladyship’s relation. Mr. Murray tells me the King hath given your book to my Lord Brooke, and informed him to read it, commending it much to him; and then my Lord Brooke is to return it to your Lordship, and so it may go to the press when your Lordship please, with such amendments as the King hath made, which I have seen and are very few, and those rather words as “epidemic,” and “mild” instead of “debounaire.” Only that “persons attained, enabled to serve in Parliament by a bare reversal of their attainder without issuing any new writ,” the King by all means will have left out. I beg leave to kiss your Lordship’s hands in all humbleness to honour. T. Meautys.

Of the book forwarded to Lord Brooke, ’tis mine Henry VII., which John Chamberlain ﬁ nds to have not read much of it, but if the rest of our history were answerable to it, I think we should no need to envy any other nation in that kind. It is come up to surrender York House to Buckingham; contracting lease for £1,300: the coveting of York House by Buckingham developed lusty transaction; to my own surprise and disgust of my good friend and servant, Meautys, the refusal to part with York House hath been the cause of the long delay in my pardon that hath been granted, November 14, 1622:84 This babble shall not henceforth trouble me; ’tis an old coat.

King’s Warrant Touching The Lord St Albans Debts. We do much commiserate the estate of our right trusty and well-beloved the Lord of St. Alban, having served us in so great place, and being one whom, howsoever he offended in judicature, yet in matter of counsel and our commission of treasure we found faithful and very careful and diligent, running courses entire and direct for the good of our service. Being therefore informed from him that he is indebted, and that some of his servants likewise and near friends are engaged for him, of whom he hath no less care than of himself (which mind we commend in him), we do wish the times were such as we might free him at once by our liberality. But the times being as they are, as we have gracious intentions towards him, so in the mean time we have care of his subsisting and honour and quiet. And therefore we do require you and every of you from time to time to treat with such creditors of his as he shall desire to make some reasonable and favourable composition of him and his sureties, letting them know that what favour and ease they shall do him in the composition shall be acceptable to ourselves: for which purpose we shall vouchsafe to take knowledge from you of such as shall be forward to perform our desire. And our will and pleasure is generally that by all good means you bring them to good terms of composition with him; which he shall take at your hands for service done unto ourselves. Given At Our Court Of Newmarket This 14th Of November, 1622.

84 See A. Chambers Bunten: Sir Thomas Meautys, Secretary to Lord Bacon, 1918 Lochithea 477

I send Meautys to London with a letter for Tobie Matthew, yet in his absence, Meautys replieth of the interview he hath with Sir Arthur Ingram: “May it please your Lordship. Remembering that the letter your Lordship put yesterday into my hand was locked up under two or three seals, it ran in my head that it might be business of importance and require haste. Not ﬁ nding Mr. Matthew in town, or any certainty of his return till Monday, I thought it became me to let your Lordship know it. My Lord, I saw Sir Arthur Ingram, who let fall somewhat, as if he could have been content to have received a letter by me from your Lordship, with something in it like an acknowledgment to my Lord Treasurer, that by his means you had received a kind letter from my Lords Marquis. But in the close he came about, and fell rather to excuse what was left out of the letter, than to please him self much with what was in it. Only indeed he looked upon me as if he did a little distrust my good meaning it. But that is all one to me; for I have been used to it of late from others as well as from him; but persons apt to be suspicious may well be borne with, for certainly they trouble themselves most, and lose most by it; for of such it is a hard question, whether those be fewest whom they trust, or those who trust them. But for him and some others, I will end in a wish that, as to your Lordship’s service, they might prove but half so much honester, as they think themselves wiser than other men. I humbly rest, your Lordship’s forever truly, to honour and serve you.” And of continuation: “May it please your Lordship. I had not failed to appear this night upon your Lordship’s summons, but that my stay till to-morrow I knew would mend my welcome by bringing Mr. Matthew, who means to dine with your Lordship only, and so rebound back to London, by reason my Lord Digby’s journey calls for him on a sudden. Neither was this all that stayed me; for I hear, somewhat that I like reasonably well, and yet I hope it will mend too, which is, that my Lord Marques hath sent you a message by my Lord of Falkland, which is a far better hand than my Lord Treasurer’s, that gives you leave to come presently to Highgate: and Sir Edward Sackville speaking for the other ﬁ ve miles, my Lord commended his care and zeal for your Lordship but silenced him thus: “Let my Lord be ruled by me; it will be never the wore for him.” But my Lord Marques said further to him: “Sir Edward, however you play a good friend’s part for my Lord St. Alban, yet I must tell you I have not been well used by him.” And Sir Edward, desiring him to open himself in whatsoever he might take offence at, and withal taking upon him to have known so much from time to time of your Lordship’s heart and endeavours toward his Lordship, as that he doubted not, but he was able to clear any mist that had been cast before his Lordship’s eyes by your enemies. My Lord Marques by this time being ready to go to the Spanish Ambassador’s to dinner, he brake off with Sir Edward, and told him that after dinner he would be back at Wallingford House, and then he would tell Sir Edward more of his mind; with whom I have had newly conference at large and traced out to him some particulars of that which they call a treaty with my Lord’s Treasurer about York House which Sir Edward Sackville knows how to put together, and make a smoother tale of it for your Lordship. And this night I shall know all from him, and to-morrow by dinner I shall not fail to attend your Lordship; till then and ever, I humbly rest. Your Lordship’s in all truth to honour and serve you.” 478 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

To The Most Illustrious Most Excellent Prince Charles, Prince Of Wales, Duke Of Cornwall, Earl Of Chester It May Please Your Highness. In part of my acknowledgement to your Highness, I have endeavoured to do honour to the memory of the last King of England that was ancestor to the King your father and yourself; and was that King of whom both unions may in a sort refer; that of the roses being in him consummate, and that of the Kingdoms by him begun. Besides, his times deserve it. For he was a wise man, and an excellent King; and yet the times were rough, and full of mutations and rare accidents. And it is with times as it is with ways. Some are more up-hill and down-hill, and some are more ﬂ at and plain; and the one is better for the liver, and the other for the writer. I have not ﬂ attered him, but took him to life as well as I could, sitting so far off, and having no better light. It is true, your Highness hath a living pattern, incomparable, of the King your father. But it is not amiss for you also to see one of these ancient pieces. God preserve your Highness. Your Highness’s most humble and devoted servant. Francis St Alban.

I request further developments from Meautys that soon arrive: “My most honoured Lord. I come in these, to your Lordship with the voice of thanksgiving for the continuance of your accustomed noble care of me, and my good, which overtakes me I fi nd whither so ever I go. But for the news itself, whereof your Lordship writes, whether or not it be better than that I was wont to bring your Lordship, the end only can prove; for I have as yet not more to show for it than good words, of which many times I brought your Lordship good store. But because modice fi deans were not made to thrive in Court, I mean to lose no time from assaying my Lord Marques, for which purpose I am now hovering about Newhall, where his Lordship is expected, but not the King, this day or to-morrow; which place, as your Lordship adviseth, may not be ill chosen for my business. For if his Lordship be not very thick of hearing, sure Newhall will be heard to speak for me. And now, my good Lord, if anything makes me diffi dent, or indeed almost indifferent how it succeeds, it is this: that my sole ambition having ever been, and still being, to grow up only under your Lordship; it is become preposterous even to my nature and habit to think of prospering, receiving any growth either without or besides your Lordship. And therefore let me claim of your Lordship to do me this right as to believe that which my heart says, or rather sears, for me; names, that what addition soever, by God’s good providence, come at any time to my life or fortune, it is in my account, by to enable me the more to serve your Lordship in both; at whose feet I shall ever humbly lay down all that I have or am, never to rise from thence other than. Your Lordship’s in all duty and reverent affection.” It may well appear that the pirate, Walsingham, has been taken to the Tower: his voyage to Algiers surprised the Dread-nought, a galleon that saw my travels to France in my youth, and now belongeth to the King’s mass. This discard has left Sir Richard Hawkins, the Vice-Admiral, in turmoil conditions; he dies soon later. Lochithea 479

His Majesty has offered my man John with the task of translating John Barclay’s Argenis; he is wont to have diffi culty in the translation, for many anagrams shadow many covert names.85 Such diffi culty revealeth to Count Gondomar’s compliment; I thank the messenger, and could not at present requite the Count better than in returning him the like; that I wished his Lordship a good Passover.86 Lord Candish writes from Italy: “I will expect awaits the new Essays of my Lord Chancellor Bacon, as also his History, with a great deal of desire, and whatsoever else he shall compose: but in particular of his History I promise myself a thing perfect and singular, especially in Henry the Seventh, where he may exercise the talent of his divine understanding. This Lord is more and more known, and his books here more and more delighted in; and those men that have more than ordinary knowledge in human affairs, esteem him one of the most capable spirits of his age; and he is truly such.”87 With fi nal approval from the Bishop of London, two of my works see print: The Historie of the Raigne of King Henry VII., a reign in England from 1485 to 1509: as Meautys tells, the printer’s fi ngers itched to be selling, and of my second work The History of the Reign of K. Henry the Eighth, K. Edward, Q. Mary, and part of the reign of Q. Elizabeth.88

Francis Bacon A Fragment Of An Essay On Fame89 The poets make Fame a monster. They describe her in part fi nely and elegantly; and in part gravely and sententiously. They say, look how many feathers she hath, so many eyes she hath underneath; so many tongues; so many voices; she pricks up so many ears. This is a fl ourish: there follow excellent parables; as that she gathereth strength in going: that she goeth upon the ground, and yet hideth her head in the clouds: that in the day time she sitteth in a watch tower, and fl ieth, most, by night: that she mingleth things done with things not done: and that she is a terror to great cities. But that which passeth all the rest is: they do recount that the Earth, mother of the Giants, that made was against Jupiter, and were by him destroyed, thereupon in an anger brought forth Fame; for certain it is that rebels, fi gured by the giants, and seditious fl ames and libels, are but brothers and sisters; masculine and feminine. But now, if a man can tame this monster, and bring her to feed at the hand, and govern her, and with her fl y other ravening fowl and kill them, it is somewhat worth. But we are infected with the stile of the poets. To speak now, in a sad, and a serious manner: there is not in all the politics a place less handled, and more worthy

85 See A.L. Rowse: The Chamberlain Letters, 1966 86 “Gondomar, I presume, was about to return to Spain. I cannot believe that his [Bacon] message was meant for an insult, as has been supposed; though I can well believe that the popular hatred of Spain and everything Spanish was apt enough to put that construction upon it. But there are no traces of any unkindness between Gondomar and Bacon. These compliments may have been exchanged at Easter-tide in 1622. Easter-day fell on the 21st of April that year, and a new Spanish Ambassador arrived a week after.”—James Spedding 87 Spedding: Works, vol i. p. 53 88 First printed in the Cabala, Ed. 1663, p. 254 89 Resuscitatio, 1657 p. 281–282 480 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals to be handled, than this of fame. We will therefore speak of these points. What are false fames; and what are true fames; and how they may be best discerned; how fames may be sown and raised; how they may be spread and multiplied; and how they may be checked and laid dead. And other things concerning the nature of fame. Fame is of that force, as there is scarcely any great action wherein it hath not a great part; especially in the war. Mucianus undid Vitellius, by a fame that he scattered, that Vitellius had in purpose to remove the legions of Syria into Germany, and the legions of Germany into Syria; whereupon the legions of Syria were inﬁ nitely inﬂ amed. Julius Cæsar took Pompey unprovided, and laid asleep his industry and preparations, by a fame that he cunningly gave out, how Cæsar’s own soldiers loved him not; and being wearied with wars, and laden with the spoils of Gaul, would forsake him as soon as he came into Italy. Livia settled all things for the succession of her son Tiberius, by continual giving out that her husband Augustus was upon recovery and amendment. And it is an usual thing with the Bashaws, to conceal the death of the great Turk from the Janizaries and men of war, to save the sacking of Constantinople and other towns, as their manner is. Themistocles made Xerxes King of Persia post apace out of Græcia, by giving out that the Grecians had a purpose to break his bridge of ships, which he had made athwart Hellespont. There be a thousand such like examples, and the more they are, the less they need to be repeated; because a man meeteth with them every where. Therefore, let all wise governors have as great a watch and care over fames, as they have of the actions and designs themselves.

May It Please Your Most Excellent Majesty.90 In the midst of my misery, which is rather assuaged by remembrance than by hope; my chiefest worldly comfort is, to think, that since the time I had the fi rst vote of the Commons House of Parliament for Commissioner of the Union, until the time that I was this last Parliament, chosen by both Houses for their messenger to your Majesty in the petition of religion, (which two were my fi rst and last services) I was ever more so happy as to have my poor services graciously accepted by your Majesty, and likewise not to have had any of them miscarry in my hands. Neither of which points I can any ways take to my self, but ascribe the former to your Majesty’s goodness, and the latter to your prudent directions; which I was ever careful to have and keep. For as I have often said to your Majesty, I was towards you but as a bucket, and a cistern, to draw forth and conserve, yourself was the fountain. Unto this comfort of nineteen years prosperity, there succeeded a comfort even in my greatest adversity, somewhat of the same nature; which is, that in those offences wherewith I was charged, there was not any one that had special relation to your Majesty, or any your particular commandments. For as, towards Almighty God, there are offences against the fi rst and second table, and yet all against God. So with the servants of Kings, there are offences more immediate against the Sovereign: although all offences against law are also against the King. Unto which comfort there is added this circumstance, that as my faults were not against your Majesty, otherwise than as all faults are; so my fall was not your Majesty’s act, otherwise than as all acts of justice are yours. This I write not insinuate with your Majesty, but as a most humble appeal to your Majesty’s gracious remembrance,

90 Sir Walter Raleigh: Francis Bacon to King James I. Lochithea 481 how honest and direct you have ever found me in your service; whereby I have an assured belief, that there is in your Majesty’s own princely thoughts, a great deal of serenity and clearness to me your Majesty’s now prostrate and cast-down servant. Neither (my most gracious Sovereign) do I by this mention of my services, lay claim to your princely grace and bounty, though the privilege of calamity doth bear that form of petition. I know well, had they been much more, they had been but my bounden duty. Nay, I must also confess, that they were from time to time, far above my merit, over the super-rewarded by your Majesty’s benefi ts which you heaped upon me. Your Majesty was and is that master to me that raised and advance me nine times; thrice in dignity, and six times in offi ce. The places indeed were the painfullest of all your services; but then they had both honour and profi ts: and the then profi ts might have maintained my now honour, if I had been wise. Neither was your Majesty’s immediate liberality wanting towards me in some gifts, if I may hold them. All this I do most thankfully acknowledge, and do herewith conclude, that for anything arising from my self to move your eyes of pity towards me, there is much more in my present misery, than in my past services; save that the same your Majesty’s goodness, that may give relief to the one, may give value to the other. And indeed, if it may please your Majesty, this theme of my misery is so plentiful, as it need not be coupled with any thing else. I have been somebody by your Majesty’s singular and undeserved favour, even the prime offi cer of your Kingdom. Your Majesty’s arm hath been over mine in Council, when you presided at the table; so near I was: I have borne your Majesty’s image in metal, much more in heart: I was never in nineteen years service chidden by your Majesty, but contrariwise often overjoyed, when your Majesty would sometimes say, I was a good husband for you, though none for my self: sometimes, that I had a way to deal in business fuavibus modis, which was the way which was most according to your own heart: and other most gracious speeches of affection and trust, which I see on to this day. But why should I speak of these things, which are now vanished, but only the better to express my downfall? For now it is thus with me: I am a year and a half old in misery; though I must ever acknowledge, not without some mixture of your Majesty’s grace and mercy; for I do not think it possible, that any you once loved should be totally miserable. Mine own means, through mine own improvidence are poor and weak, little better than my father left me. The poor things which I have had from your Majesty, are either in question, or at courtesy. My dignities remain marks of your favour, but burdens of my present fortune. The poor remnants, which I had of my former fortunes in plate or jewels, I have spread upon poor men unto whom I owed, scarce leaving myself a convenient subsistence. So as to conclude, I must pour out my misery before your Majesty, so far as to say, si deseris tu, perimus. But as I can offer to your Majesty’s compassion little arising from my self to move you, except it be my extreme misery, which I have truly laid open; so looking up to your Majesty’s own self, I should think I committed Cain’s fault if I should despair. Your Majesty is a King, whose heart is as unscrutable for secret motions of goodness, as for depth of wisdom. You are, creator-like, factive, and not destructive. You are the Prince, in whom hath been ever noted an aversation against anything that favoured of an hard heart; as, on the other side, your princely eye was wont to meet with any motion that was made 482 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals on the relieving part. Therefore as one that had had the happiness to know your Majesty near hand, I have (most gracious Sovereign) faith enough for a miracle, much more for a grace, that your Majesty will not suffer your poor creature to be utterly defaced, nor blot the name quite out of your book, upon which your sacred hand hath been so oft for new ornaments and additions. Unto this degree of compassion, I hope God above, (of whose mercy towards me, both in my prosperity and my adversity, I have had great testimonies and pledges, though mine own manifold and wretched unthankfulness might have averted them) will dispose your princely heart, already prepared to all piety. And why should I not think, but that thrice noble Prince, who would have pulled me out of the fi re of a sentence, will help to pull me (if I may use that homely phrase) out of the mire of an abject and fordid condition in my last days: and that excellent favourite of yours, (the goodness of whose nature contendeth with the greatness of his fortune; and who counteth it a prize, a second prize, to be a good friend, after that prize which he carrieth to be a good servant) still kiss your hands with joy for any work of piety you shall do for me. And as all commiserable persons (especially such as fi nd their hearts void of all malice) are apt to think that all men pity them; I assure my self that the Lords of your Council, who out of their wisdom and nobleness, cannot but be sensible of humane events, will in this way which I go for the relief of my estate, further and advance your Majesty’s goodness towards me: for there is, as I conceive, a kind of fraternity between great men that are, and those that have been, being but the several tenses of one verb. Nay, I do further presume, that both Houses of Parliament will love their justice the better, if it end not in my ruin. For I have been often told, by many of my Lords, as it were in excusing the severity of the sentence that they knew they left me in good hands. And your Majesty knoweth well, I have been all my life long acceptable to those assemblies, not by fl attery, but by moderation, and by honest expressing of a desire to have all things go fairly and well. But it may please your Majesty, (for Saints I shall give them reverence, but no adoration; my address is to your Majesty the fountain of goodness) your Majesty shall, by the Grace of God, not feel that in gift, which I shall extremely feel in help: for my desires are moderate, and my courses measured to a life orderly and reserved, hoping still to do your Majesty honour in my way. Only I most humbly beseech your Majesty, to give me leave to conclude with those words which necessity speaketh: help me, (dear Sovereign Lord and master) and pity me so far, as I that have born a Bag, be not now in my age forced in effect to bear a wallet; nor I that desire to live to study, may not be driven to study to live. I most humbly crave pardon of a long letter, after a long silence. God of heaven ever bless, preserve, and prosper your Majesty. Your Majesty’s poor ancient servant and beadsman. Fra. St Alban. Father Of Salomon’s House 1623 (24) of the age sixty-two to 1625 of the age sixty-four

If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants —Sir Isaac Newton

My second part of Historia Vitae et Mortis sees the prints: should this work be out of my manner, I see enough gents to read it. The University of Oxford, upon receiving mine De Augmentis Scientiarum honoureth me thus:

To the Right Honourable Francis, Baron of Verulam, and Viscount of St Alban Our Very Good Lord. Most Noble, and Learned Viscount. Your honour could have given nothing more agreeable, and the University could have received nothing more acceptable, than the sciences. And those sciences which she formerly sent forth, poor, of low stature, unpolished; she hath received elegant, tall; and by the supplies of your wit (by which alone they could have been advanced) most rich in dowry. She esteemeth it an extraordinary favour to have a return with usury, made of that by a stranger (if so near a relation may be called a stranger) which she bestows as a patrimony, upon her children: and she readily acknowledgeth, that though the Muses are born in Oxford, they grew elsewhere. Grown they are, and under your pen, who, like some mighty Hercules in learning, have by your own hand, further advanced those pillars, in the learned world, which by the rest of that world, were supposed immoveable. We congratulate you, you most accomplished combatant, who by your most diligent patronage of the virtues of others, have overcome other patrons, and, by your own writings, yourself. For by the eminent height of your honour, you advanced only learned men; not at last (O Ravishing Prodigy!) you have also advanced learning itself. The ample muniﬁ cence of this gift, lays a burthen upon your clients, in the receiving of which, we have the honour; but in the enjoying of it, the emolument will descend to late posterity. If therefore we are not able to ourselves, to return sufﬁ cient and suitable thanks, our nephews of the next age

483 484 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals ought to give their assistance, and pay the remainder, if not to yourself, to the honour of your name. Happy they; but we how much more happy, &c. To whom you have pleased to do the honour of sending a letter, written by no other than by your hand: to whom you have pleased to send the clearest instructions, for reading and for concord in our studies, in the front of your book. As if it were a small thing for your Lordship to inrich the Muses out of your own stock, unless you taught them also a method of getting wealth. Wherefore this most accurate pledge of your understanding has been with the most solemn reverence, received in a very full congregation, both by the doctors and masters; and that which the common vote hath placed in our public library, every single person has gratefully deposited in his memory. Your Lordship’s most devoted servant. The University Of Oxford

In like manner Reader, I would be glad to receive my writ this Parliament, that since the root of my dignity is saved to me it might also bear fruit, and that I may not die in dishonour. But it is far from me to desire this, except it may be with the love and consent of the Lords: if their Lordships shall vouchsafe to think me worthy of their company or fi t to do them service, to have suffered suffi ciently, whereby I may now be after three years a subject of their grace as I was before a subject of their justice. I have suffered in loss of place, in loss of means, and in loss of liberty (for a great time), to be a suffi cient expiation for my faults. Justice is done. An example is made for reformation. The authority of the House for judicature is established. There can be no further use of my misery; perhaps some little may be of my service; for I hope I shall be found a man humbled as a Christian, though not dejected as a worldling; but men strive (against them selves) to save the credit of ignorance and to satisfy them selves in this poverty. Amongst other things, how often have I, as I have passed along our streets, had a good mind to get up a farce, to revenge the poor boys whom I have seen fl ayed, knocked down, and miserably beaten by some farther or mother, when in their fury, and mad with rage? You shall see them come out with fi re and fury sparkling in their eyes as doth now, my man John, who drowneth in his tears, for his library be destroyed by accidental fi re. We divert our selves from a troublesome fancy, and run to our books; they presently fi x us to them and drive the other out of our thoughts; and do not mutiny at seeing that we have only recourse to them for want of to her more real, natural, and lively commodities; they always receiveth us with the same kindness. A description in Ben Jonson’s witty poem, An Execration upon Vulcan, doth mention all.1 I am of late at Bedford House, whereunto I desire to retire upon my old lodgings in Gray’s Inn. It is at my arrival that I do hear that Thomas Murray, Master of Eton College,2 dies without issue of being cut for the stone: the provostship of Eton falls vacant. I humbly apply to his Majesty for this position with a letter to Secretary Conway: “Mr. Secretary.

1 Introduction to Ben Jonson’s The Poetaster, 1892 2 Alan Connor, in a BBC article published October 17, 2005, offers a list of names on ten old Etonians of which Francis Bacon is amongst the list. In the comments section, one reader writes: “Neither Francis Bacon the philosopher nor Francis Bacon the painter was, so far as I know, ever at Eton. Isn’t there enough misinformation on this tired old subject out there already?” Lochithea 485

When you did me the honour and favour to visit me you did not only in general terms express your love unto me, but as a real friend asked me whether I had any particular occasion wherein I might make use of you; it is that Mr. Thomas Murray, Provost of Eton, is like to die. His Majesty, when I waited on him, took notice of my wants, and said to me that as he was a King he would have care of me. I have written two or three words to his Majesty, which I would pray you to deliver.”

To The King’s Most Excellent Majesty. I am much comforted that his Majesty of his great goodness vouchsafeth to have a care of me, but there will hardly fall, especially in the spent hour-glass of such a life as mine, anything so ﬁ t for me, being a retreat to a place of study so near London, and where, if I sell my house at Gorhambury, as I purpose to do, to put myself into some convenient plenty, I may be accommodate of a dwelling for the summer time. I was looking over some short papers of mine touching usury, how to grind the teeth of it, and yet to make it grind to his Majesty’s mill in good sort; if you think good I will perfect it, as I send it to you as some fruits of my leisure. Being your Beadsman, therefore, addresseth himself to your Majesty for a cell to retire unto. The particular I have expressed to my very hon. friend, Mr. Sec. Conway. This help, which costs your Majesty nothing, may reserve me to do your Majesty service, without being chargeable unto you. I soon receive advertisement from a friend of mine who is like to know it, that Mr. Murray is very ill; not only his days but his hours are numbered. In haste the news travels from my hand to Conway: “You have put my business into a good way, and my heart is much upon this place, as ﬁ t for me, and where I may do good. Therefore, Sir, I pray you have a special eye to it, and I shall ever acknowledge it to you in the best fashion that I can.” Fra. St Alban.

Yea, but I am ashamed, disgraced, dishonoured, degraded, exploded: my notorious crimes and villainies are come to light, my ﬁ lthy lust, abominable oppression and avarice lies open, my good name’s lost, my fortune’s gone, I have been stigmatised, whipped at post, arraigned and condemned, I am a common obloquy, I have lost my ears, odious, execrable, abhorred of God and men. Never come Honesty in a ﬂ ood, with such rogue faults. Thy lonely cloak shall sheet on these mine shoulders. Be content, ’tis but a nine days’ wonder, and as one sorrow drives out another, one passion another, one cloud another, one rumour is expelled by another.3 In all turmoil, my hands concoct two kinds of bracelets for comforting the heart and spirits: the one of the trochisk of vipers, made into little pieces of beads; for since they do great good inwards, especially for pestilent agues, it is like they will be effectual outwards; where they may be applied in greater quantity. The other is, of beads made of the scarlet powder, which they call kermes; which is the principal ingredient in their cordial confec- tion alkermes: the beads would be made up with ambergrease, and some pomander. As

3 Robert Burton: The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1653 486 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Timon of Athens and All’s Well sees the boards,4 I am ever betwixt concluding my letter to Sir Francis Barnham and of the making of more bracelets or of going as Montaigne’s man hath done; “If we were placed between the bottle and the ham, with an equal desire to eat and drink, there would doubtless be no help for it, but we must die of thirst and hunger;” or from a servant’s interruption that wont some small beer: “Away!” I cry, “Away, should I bid you some small beer!” or of neighbours’ request of my oak wood: “Away!” I fume, “Away, should I sell my feathers!”5 If I am not able to contend with it, I escape from it; and in avoiding it, slip out of the way, and make my doubles: shifting place, business, and company, I secure myself in the crowd of other thoughts and fancies, where it loses my trace, and I escape to my pen and paper for Sir Francis Barnham: “Good Cousin. Upon a little search made touching the patent of the survey of coals, I fi nd matter not only to acquit my self, but likewise to do my self much right. Any reference to me or any certifi cate of mine I fi nd not. Neither is it very likely I made any; for that when it came to the Great Seal I stayed it. I did not only stay it, but brought it before the Council Table, as not willing to pass it, except their Lordships allowed it. The Lords gave hearing to the business, I remember, two several days; and in the end disallowed it, and commended my care and circumspection, and ordered that it should continue stayed; and so it did all my time. About a twelvemonth since, my Lord Duke of Lenox, now deceased, writ to me to have the Privy Seal; which though I respected his Lordship much I refused to deliver to him, but was content to put it into the right hand, that is, to send it to my Lord Keeper, giving knowledge how it had been stayed. My Lord Keeper received it by mine own servant, writeth back to-me, acknowledging the receipt, and adding that he would lay it aside until his Lordship heard further from my Lord Steward, and the rest of the Lords. Whether this fi rst Privy Seal went to the Great Seal, or that it went about again, I know not. But all my part is that I have related. I ever rest, your faithful friend and cousin.” As I lay my pen down beside scribbled words, the following words leap up to mine eyes:

Upon A Friend’s Absence By Tobias Matthew6 What helps it in a princely house to dwell set out with pictures of expressive art walled in with spacious gardens that impart both ﬂ owers and fruit to please, sight, taste and smell For what serve water works, although they tell their tail in music, and delight man’s heart with such excess, as makes the soul depart

4 William R. Leigh: Clipt Wings, 1930 5 (a) Michel Eyquem de Montaigne’s Essay, 1580 (b) Aubrey’s Brief Lives 6 Anthony G. Petti: Unknown Sonnets by Sir Toby Matthew: vol. ii, ff. 88–95 published in 1659 Lochithea 487

in clouds of quiet sleep to heaven from hell But these and these and all humane delights Doth serve for nothing, but to make me ﬁ nd By sad experience, that they are too light, to work upon the weight of my sad mind which if thy absence have not killed out right I know it will, at least I wish it might

I think good to deliver the words and writ of George Puttenham on how our writing and speeches public ought to be fi gurative, and if they be not do greatly disgrace the cause and purpose of the speaker and writer: “But as it hath been always reputed a great fault to use fi gurative speeches foolishly and indiscreetly, so is it esteemed no less an imperfection in man’s utterance, to have none use of fi gure at all, specially in our writing and speeches public, making them but as our ordinary talk, then which nothing can be more unsavoury and far from all civility. I remember in the fi rst year of Queen Mary’s reign a Knight of Yorkshire was chosen speaker of 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 some lack of his teeth, as for want of language nothing well spoken, which at that time and business was most behoofull 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 fi rst 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 M. Speaker’s Oration: Mary quote th’other, methinks I heard not a better alehouse tale told this seven years. This happened because the good old Knight made no difference between an Oration or public speech to be delivered to the ear of a Prince’s Majesty and state of a Realm, then he would have done of an ordinary tale to be told at his table in the country, wherein all men know the odds is very great. And though grave and wise counsellors in their consultations do not use much superfl uous eloquence, and also in their judicial hearings do much misslike all scholasticall rhetorics: yet in such a case as it may be (and as this Parliament was) if the Lord Chancellor of England or Archbishop of Canterbury himself were to speak, he ought to do it cunningly and eloquently, which can not be without the use of fi gures: 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, then 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 artifi cial (though I think rather natural) yet were they known to be learned and not unskil- ful of the art, when they were younger men: and as learning and art teacheth a scholar to speak, so doth it also teach a counsellor, and as well an old man as a young, and a man in authority, as well as a private person and a pleader as well as a preacher, every man after his sort and calling as best becommeth: and that speech which becommeth one, doth not become another, for manners of speeches, some serve to work in excess, some in mediocrity, some to grave purposes, some to light, some to be short and brief, some to be long, some 488 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals to stir up affections, some to pacify and appease them, and these common despisers of good utterance, which resteth altogether in fi gurative speeches, being well used whether it come by nature or by art or by exercise, they be but certain gross ignorance of whom it is truly spoken, scientia non habet inimicum nisi ignorantem. 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. A Knight of the Queen’s Privy Chamber, once entreated a noble woman of the Court, being in great favour about her Majesty (to the intent to remove her from a certain displeasure, which by sinister opinion she had conceived against a gentleman his friend) that it would please her to hear him speak in his own cause and not to condemn him upon his adversaries report: God forbid said she, he is too wise for me to talk with, let him go and satisfy such a man naming him: why quote the Knight again, had your Ladyship rather hear a man talk like a fool or like a wise man? This was because the Lady was a little perverse, and not disposed to reform herself by hearing reason, which none other can so well beat into the ignorant head, as the well spoken and eloquent man. And because I am so far waded into this discourse of eloquence and fi gurative speeches, I will tell you what happened on a time myself being present when certain Doctors of the civil law were heard 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 lewd abettors, who by violent persuasions have lead her into this wilfulness. Quoth the judge, what need such eloquent terms in this place, the gentleman replied, doth your Lordship misslike the term, and methinks I speak it to great purpose: for I am sure she would never have done it, but by force of persuasion. And if persuasions were not very violent to the mind of man it could not have wrought so strange an effect as we read that it did once in Egypt, and would have told the whole tale at large, if the Magistrate had not passed it over very pleasantly. Now to tell you the whole matter as the gentleman intended, thus it was. There came into Egypt a notable Orator, whose name was Hegesias who inveighed so much against the incommodities of this transitory life, and so highly commended death the dispatcher of all evils; as a great number of his hearers destroyed themselves, some with weapon, some with poison, others by drowning and hanging themselves to be rid out of this vale of misery, in so much as it was feared least many more of the people would have miscarried by occasion of his persuasions, if King Ptolome had not made a public proclamation, that the Orator should avoid the country, and no more be allowed to speak in any matter. Whether now persuasions, may not be said violent and forcible to simple minds in special, I refer it to all men’s judgements that hear the story. At least ways, I fi nd this opinion, confi rmed by a pretty devise or emblem that Lucianus alleageth he saw in the portrait of Hercules within the city of Marseilles in Province: where they had fi gured a lusty old man with a long chain tied by one end at his tongue, by the other end at the peoples ears, who stood a far off and seemed to be drawn to him by the force of that chain fastened to his tongue, as who would say, by force of his persuasions. And to shew more plainly that eloquence is of great force (and not as many men think amiss) the property and gift of young men only, but rather of old men, and a thing which better becometh hoary hairs then beardless boys, they seem to ground it upon Lochithea 489 this reason: age (say they and most truly) brings experience, experience bringeth wisdom, long life yields long use and much exercise of speech, exercise and custom with wisdom, make an assured and voluble utterance: so is it that old men more then any other sort speak most gravely, wisely, assuredly, and plausibly, which parts are all that can be required in eloquence, and so in all deliberations of importance where counsellors are allowed freely to open and shew their conceits, good persuasion is no less requisite then speech itself: for in great purposes to speak and not to be able or likely to persuade, is a vain thing.”7 My dog, that I loveth sick, have put him to Alice to keep. On seeing her, I ask how doth my dog? She answereth in a whining tone, her handkerchief to her eye: “The dog is well, I hope.”8 I hear though that my dog died as so I, when the Great Seal is taken from my trembling fi ngers, and committed to the custody of Henry Viscount Mandevil, President of the Council. Whereunto I write to Dr. Williams as of his promise to Rawley: since I fi nd the ancients as Cicero, Demosthenes, Plinius Secundus, and others, have preserved both their orations and their epistles, in imitation of whom, I hath done the like to my own; which nevertheless, I will not publish while I live, but I have been bold to bequeath them to Dr. Williams and Mr. Chancellor of the Dutchy. My speeches, perhaps, they will think fi t to publish: the letters, many of them, touch too much upon late matters of state, to be published; yet I am willing, they should not be lost. I have also by my will, erected two lectures in perpetuity, in either University one; with an endowment of £200 per annum apiece. They to be for natural philosophy, and the sciences thereupon depending; which foundations I have required my executors to order, by the advice and direction of Dr. Williams, and my Lord Bishop of Coventry and Lichfi eld. There be my thoughts for now; this shall be, this is, and this hath ever been, that boldest hearts be nearest jeopardy, to die in battle is honour as men win to such as have joy in haunting chivalry.9 Bonfi res light throughout the city: Prince Charles’ prosperous success in Spain is celebrated. I receiveth a few words from Tobie: “I have received your great and noble token10 and favour of the April 9 and can but return the humblest of my thanks for your Lordship’s vouchsafi ng so to visit this poorest and unworthiest of your servants. Postscript: The most prodigious wit, that ever I knew of my nation, and of this side of the sea, is of your Lordship’s name though he be known by another.”

7 The Arte of English Poesie, 1589 8 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms selected from a common-place book in the hand-writing of Dr. Rawley, preserved at Lambeth. MSS. No. 1034 9 S. Brandt’s The Ship of Fools, translated by Alexander Barclay in 1873 10 (a) Howard Bridgewater: Evidence Connecting Sir Francis Bacon with “Shakespeare” The Bacon Society.: “What, may we ask, was this “great and noble token” that my Lord Verulam sent to his friend and admirer, Sir Toby Matthew? There was nothing published in Verulam’s name in the spring of 1623. It would seem to be a fair inference, therefore, that it was a copy of the then just-published ﬁ rst folio edition of “Shakespeare.” (b) Henry Pott: The Promus, 1883.: “In the Promus note it really seems that the clue is found to Bacon’s password between himself and his friend. The Alphabet meant the Tragedies and Comedies, those ‘other works,’ those ‘works of his recreation,’ which Sir Toby Matthew had in his mind when he added to a business letter this mysterious postcript :—The most prodigious wit that ever I knew, of my nation and of this side of the sea, is of your Lordship’s name, thmgh he be known by another.” 490 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

I remaineth in the dark of how doth concern his Majesty in sight of Eton; it were strange if I should not do as much good to the College as another, be it square cap or round. My smoky fortune clears as I hear that his Majesty designates to his Ambassador in several Courts, Sir Henry Wotton the provostship of Eton. ’Tis a last attempt to trouble Buckingham or his Majesty, for I fear this game in the muddy pools of London best be described by a ship of fools:11 They get the bladder and blow it great and thin, with many beans or peason put within, it ratleth, soundeth, and shineth clear and fair, while it is throwen and caste up in the air, each one contendeth and hath a great delight, with foot and with hand the bladder for to smite, if it fall to ground they lift it up again, this wise to labour they count it for no pain, running and leaping they drive away the cold, the sturdy plowmen lusty, strong and bold, overcommeth the winter with driving the foot ball, forgetting labour and many a grievous fall. The matter of Eton goeth so slowly forward that I have almost forgot it myself, so as I marvel not if my friends forget upon much angariate,12 I am to undertake writing the history of Henry VIII.,13 to which a few scribbles come from my hand; ’tis of the same time that spectators are killed by the collapse of the Black-Friars: after the decease of that wise and fortunate King, King Henry the Seventh, who died in the height of his prosperity, there followed (as useth to do when the sun setteth so exceeding clear) one of the fairest mornings of a Kingdom that hath been known in this land or anywhere else. A young King about eighteen years of age, for stature, strength, making, and beauty, one of the goodliest persons of his time. And though he were given to pleasure, yet he was likewise desirous of glory; so that there was a passage open in his mind, by glory for virtue. Neither was he unadorned with learning, though therein he came short of his brother Arthur. He had never any the least pique, difference, or jealousy, with the King his father, which might give any occasion of altering court, or counsel upon the change; but all things passed in a still. He was the ﬁ rst heir of the White, and the Red Rose; so that there was no discontented party now left in the Kingdom, but all men’s hearts turned towards him; and not only their hearts, but their eyes also; for he was the only son of the Kingdom. He had no brother; which though it be a comfort for Kings to have, yet it draweth the subjects’ eyes a little aside. And yet being a married man in those young years, it promised hope of speedy issue to succeed in the Crown. Neither was there any Queen Mother, who might share any way in the government or clash with the counselors for authority, while the King intended his pleasure. No such thing as any great or mighty subject who might eclipse or overshade the imperial power. And for the people and state in general, they were in such lowness of obedience, as subjects were like to yield who had lived almost four and twenty years under so politic a King as his father; being also one who came partly in by the sword, and had so high a courage in all points of regality, and was ever victorious in rebellions and seditions of the people. The Crown extremely rich and full of treasure; and the Kingdom like to be so in short time. For there was no war, no dearth, no stop of trade or commerce; it was only the Crown which sucked too hard; but now being full, and upon the head of a

11 S. Brandt’s The Ship of Fools, translated by Alexander Barclay in 1873 12 Any service which was forcibly or unjustly demanded 13 A copy of the manuscript lies in the British Museum, additional MSS. 5503, f. 120 b. Lochithea 491 young King, it was like to draw the less. Lastly, he was inheritor of his father’s reputation, which was great throughout the world. He had strait alliance with the two neighbour states, an ancient enemy in former times, and an ancient friend, Scotland and Burgundy. He had peace and amity with France, under the assurance not only of treaty and league, but of necessity and inability in the French to do him hurt, in respect the French King’s designs were wholly bent upon Italy. So that it may be truly said, there had been scarcely seen or known in many ages such a rare concurrence of signs and promises of a happy and fl ourishing reign to ensue, as were now met in this young King, called after his father’s name, Henry the Eighth.14 I do fi nd strange that these times have so little esteemed the virtues of the times, for Tobie remains in Spain with the Prince Charles and Buckingham wherefore I pen- feed a few words to him: “Since you say the Prince hath not forgotten his commandment touching my history of Henry the Eighth, I may not forget my duty. But I fi nd Sir Robert Cotton, who poured forth what he had in my former work, somewhat dainty of his materials in this.” Hence, many a visit to Sir John Danvers in Chelsey; his opinion on the work is of importance to me, though it still remains from perfection: “Your Lordship knows that I am no Scholar.” of which I answer: “’Tis no matter, I know what a Scholar can say; I would know what you can say.” He does read the manuscript, gives his mislikes, which I acknowledge to be true and mend it so. “Why,” I exclaim, “a Scholar would never have told me this.” Upon this instance, my admiration of the gardens is so great, that I stumble where I stand; Lady Danvers rubs at my face and temples with water. I stable to my feet and say, “Madam, I am no good footman.”15 Is it not now a time to do what I can do; and that which it is now time to do, I cannot do?16 As Armand Jean du Plessis, Duc de Richelieu, the great French Cardinal-Statesman hath said: “Man, having been made a rational creature, ought to do nothing except by reason; for, otherwise he acts against nature, and so against the author of nature. Again, the greater a man is, and the higher his position, the more strictly is he bound to follow reason. It follows that if he is sovereignly rational, he is bound to make reason reign; that is to say, it is his duty to make all those who are under his authority revere and obey reason religiously.”17 My gentleman, Mr. Richard Gilman, who hath been towards me, hath served formerly in Scinde and Russia and the Low Countries, and is suitor now for a lieutenant’s place in these succours which are now to be sent; I shall recommend to Secretary Conway, and shall give very hearty thanks if, for my sake, he will pleasure him. My petition leaves me in necessity to Buckingham whereunto his Majesty’s attention: “That whereas your supplicant is now three years old in misery, during which time he hath tasted of your Majesty’s mercy, but not of your bounty, which his services past and necessity present may implore, your Majesty of your grace will so far compassionate your supplicant as to give order that he may have three years’ payment of his pension beforehand; which in effect is but a bor-

14 Spedding: Works, vol. xi; p. 395–397 15 Sir John Danvers (1588–1655)—See Aubrey’s Brief Lives 16 Plutarch: Symp., i. I. 17 Armand Jean du Plessis, Duc de Richelieu (1585–1642) 492 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals rowing. And this may enable him to overcome his debts, but then because he shall want for his present maintenance, your Majesty will also be pleased during those three years, till his pension run again, to discharge him of the rent of £1.000 reserved upon his farm of petty writs. And your supplicant shall (as ever) pray for your Majesty’s health and happiness. Before I make my petition to your Majesty, I make my prayers to God above, pectore ab imo, that if I have held anything so dear as your Majesty’s service, nay your heart’s ease, and your honour’s, I may be repulsed with a denial. But if that hath been the principal with me, that God, who knoweth my heart, would move your Majesty’s royal heart to take compassion of me and to grant my desire. I prostrate myself at your Majesty’s feet; I, your ancient servant, now sixty-four years old in age, and three years ﬁ ve months old in misery. I desire not from your Majesty means, nor place, nor employment, but only, after so long a time of expiation, a complete and total remission of the sentence of the Upper House, to the end that blot of ignominy may be removed from me, and from my memory with posterity; that I die not a condemned man, but may be to your Majesty, as I am to God, nova creatura. Your Majesty hath pardoned the like to Sir John Bennet,18 between whose case and mine (not being partial to myself, but speaking out of the general opinion) there was a much difference, I will not say as between black and white, but as between black and grey, or ash-coloured. Look therefore down, dear Sovereign, upon me also in pity. I know your Majesty’s heart is inscrutable for goodness; and my Lord of Buckingham was wont to tell me you were the best-natured man in the world; and it is God’s property, that those he hath loved, he loveth to the end. Let your Majesty’s grace, in this my desire, stream down upon me, and let it be out of the fountain and spring-head, and ex mero motu, that, living or dying, the print of the goodness of King James may be in my heart, and his praises in my mouth. This, my most humble request granted, may make me live a year to two happily; and denied, will kill me quickly. But yet the last thing that will die in me will be the heart and affection of your Majesty’s most humble, and true devoted servant.” A full pardon hath been prepared. It is never signed:

King James His Letter To His Trusty And Well Beloved Thomas Coventry, Our Attorney General.19 Trusty and Well-beloved, we greet you well: whereas our right trusty and right well- beloved cousin, the Viscount of St Alban, upon a sentence given in the Upper House of Parliament full three years since, and more, hath endured loss of his place, imprisonment

18 The only Sir John Bennet of this period I could fi nd was of the composer (1599–1614) known chiefl y for his madrigals, which ranged from light and festive in character to serious and even solemn. Almost nothing is known about Bennet’s life, but there is some evidence that he may have come from the border of Lancashire and Cheshire. Bennet occasionally borrowed madrigal texts from existing collections and reset them to original tunes; he is not known to have borrowed tunes. One of Bennet’s sources of such texts was Thomas Morley, to whose Triumphs of Oriana Bennet contributed the well-known madrigal “All creatures now are merry-minded.” In addition to two volumes of madrigals, he composed a serious piece, for viol accompaniment, to celebrate Queen Elizabeth I., and a verse anthem “for the King’s inauguration,” O God of Gods 19 Cabala, edition 1663, p. 270 Lochithea 493 and confi nement also for a great time, which may suffi ce for the satisfaction of justice, and example to others: we being always graciously inclined to temper mercy with justice, and calling to mind his former good services, and how well and profi tably he hath spent his time since his troubles, are pleased to remove from him that blot of ignominy which yet remaineth upon him, of incapacity and disablement; and to remit to him all penalties whatsoever infl icted by that sentence. Having therefore formerly pardoned his fi ne, and released his confi nement, these are to will and require you to prepare for our signature a Bill containing a pardon in due form of law of the whole sentence; for which this shall be your suffi cient warrant.

I reprint my full edition of essays; by the end of the year, I have in publication The Translation of Certaine Psalmes into English verse and mine Apophthegms New and Old.

New Atlantis: A Work Unfi nished. Written By The Right Honourable Francis Lord Verulam, Viscount St Alban. To The Reader. This fable my Lord devised, to the end that he might exhibit therein a model or description of a College instituted for the interpreting of nature and the producing of great and marvellous works for the benefi t of me, under the name of Salomon’s House, of the College of the Six Days’ Works. And even so far his Lordship hath proceeded, as to fi nish that part. Certainly the model is more vast and high than can possibly be imitated in all things; notwithstanding most things therein are within men’s power to effect. His Lordship thought also in this present fable to have composed a frame of Laws, or of the best state or mould of a Commonwealth; but foreseeing it would be a long work, his desire of collecting the Natural History diverted him, which he preferred many degrees before it. This work of The New Atlantis (as much as concernenth the English edition) his Lordship designed for this place;20 in regard it hath so near affi nity (in one part of it) with the preceding Natural History. W. Rawley.

A Speech Touching The Recovering Of Drowned Mineral Works, Prepared For Parliament, As Mr. Thomas Bushell Affi rmed, By The Viscount Of St Alban, Then Lord High Chancellor Of England.21 For, by this unchangeable way, my Lords, have I proposed to erect the Academical Fabric of this Island’s Salomon’s House, modelled in my New Atlantis. And I can hope that my Midnight Studies to make our countries fl ourish and outvy European neighbours in mysterious and benefi cent arts, have not so ungratefully affected the whole intellects, that you will delay or resist his Majesty’s desires, and my humble petition in this benevolent, yea,

20 Published at the end of Sylva Sylvarum bearing no date 21 Baconiana, 1679 494 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals magniﬁ cent affair; since your honourable posterities may be enriched thereby, and my ends are only, to make the world my heir, and the learned fathers of my Salomon’s House, the successive and sworn trustees in the dispensation of this great service, for God’s Glory, my Prince’s magniﬁ cence, this Parliament’s Honour, our country’s general good, and the propagation of my own memory.22

The New Atlantis We sailed from Peru,23 (where we had continued by the space of one whole year,) for China and Japan, by the South Sea;24 taking with us victuals for twelve months; and had good winds from the east, though soft and weak, for fi ve months’ space and more. But then the wind came about, and settled in the west for many days, so as we could make little or no way, and were sometimes in purpose to turn back. But then again there arose strong and great winds from the south, with a point east; which carried us up (for all that we could do) toward the north: by which time our victuals failed us, though we had made good spare of them. So that fi nding ourselves, in the midst of the greatest wilderness of waters in the world, without victual, we gave ourselves for lost men, and prepared for death. Yet we did lift up our hearts and voices to God above, who showeth his wonders in the deep; beseeching him of his mercy that as in the beginning he discovered25 the face of the deep, and brought forth dry land, so he would now discover land to us, that we mought not perish. And it came to pass that the next day about evening, we saw within a kenning before us, towards the north, as it were thick clouds, which did put us in some hope of land; knowing how that part of the South Sea was utterly unknown; and might have islands or continents, that hitherto were not come to light. Wherefore we bent our course thither, where we saw the appearance of land, all that night; and in the dawning of next day, we might plainly discern that it was a land; fl at to our sight, and full of boscage; which made it shew the more dark. And after an hour and a half’s sailing, we entered into a good haven, being the port of a fair city; not great indeed, but well built, and that gave a pleasant view from the

22 The original founder of the Royal Society was Francis Bacon, who planned the ideal institution in his philosophical romance of The New Atlantis: “This notion is not fanciful, and it was that of its fi rst founders, as not only appears by the expression of old Aubrey, when, alluding to the commencement of the Society, he adds secundum mentem Domini Baconi; but by a rare print designed by Evelyn, probably for a frontispiece to Bishop Sprat’s history, although we seldom fi nd the print in the volume. The design is precious to a Grangerite, exhibiting three fi ne portraits. On one side is represented a library, and on the table lie the statutes, the journals, and the mace of the Royal Society; on its opposite side are suspended numerous philosophical instruments; in the centre of the print is a column on which is placed the bust of Charles the Second, the patron; on each side whole lengths of Lord Brouncker, the fi rst president, and Lord Bacon, as the founder, inscribed Artium Instaurator.”—Isaac Disraeli: Curiosities of Literature, vol. ii 23 See Schomburgk’s Raleigh’s Guiana of Raleigh’s attempts at discovering a golden Kingdom 24 Omitted in the translation 25 Genes. I. 9: “Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together unto one place, and let the dry land appear.” Lochithea 495 sea:26 and we thinking every minute long till we were on land, came close to the shore, and offered to land. But straightways we saw divers of the people, with batons in their hands, as it were forbidding us to land: yet without any cries or fi erceness, but only as warning us off by signs that they made. Whereupon being not a little discomforted, we were advising with ourselves what we should do. During which time there made forth to us a small boat, with about eight persons in it; whereof one of them had in his hand a tipstaff of a yellow cane, tipped at both ends with blue, who made aboard our ship, without any show of distrust at all. And when he saw one of our number present himself somewhat afore the rest, he drew forth a little scroll of parchment, (somewhat yellower than our parchment, and shining like the leaves of writing tables, but otherwise soft and fl exible,) and delivered it to our foremost man. In which scroll were written in ancient Hebrew, and in ancient Greek, and in good Latin of the School, and in Spanish, these words: “Land ye not, none of you; and provide to be gone from this coast within sixteen days, except you have further time given you. Meanwhile, if you want fresh water, or victual, or help for your sick, or that your ship needeth repair, write down your wants, and you shall have that which belongeth to mercy.” This scroll was signed with a stamp of cherubins’ wings, not spread but hanging downwards, and by them a cross. This being delivered, the offi cer returned, and left only a servant with us to receive our answer. Consulting hereupon among ourselves, we were much perplexed. The denial of landing and hasty warning us away troubled us much; on the other side, to fi nd that the people had languages and were so full of humanity, did comfort us not a little. And above all, the sign of the cross to that instrument was to us a great rejoicing, and as it were a certain presage of good. Our answer was in the Spanish tongue; “That for our ship, it was well; for we had rather met with calms and contrary winds than any tempests. For our sick, they were many, and in very ill case; so that if they were not permitted to land, they ran danger of their lives.” Our other wants we set down in particular; adding, “that we had some little store of merchandise, which if it pleased them to deal for, it might supply our wants without being chargeable unto them.” We offered some reward in pistolets unto the servant, and a piece of crimson velvet to be presented to the offi cer; but the servant took them not, nor would scarce look upon them; and so left us, and went back in another little boat which was sent for him. About three hours after we had despatched our answer, there came toward us a person (as it seemed) of a place. He had on him a gown with wide sleeves, of a kind of water chamolet, of an excellent azure colour, far more glossy than ours; his under apparel was green; and so was his hat, being in the form of a turban, daintily made, and not so huge as the Turkish turbans; and the locks of his hair came down below the brims of it. A reverend man was he to behold. He came in a boat, gilt in some part of it, with four persons more only in that boat; and was followed by another boat, wherein were some twenty. When he was come within a fl ight-shot27 of our ship, signs were made to us that we should send forth some

26 Latin version: ex qua parte Mare spectabat, elegantiam magnam proe se tulit 27 An archer’s term of which can shoot furthest 496 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals to meet him upon the water; which we presently did in our ship-boat, sending the principal man amongst us save one, and four of our number with him. When we were come within six yards of their boat, they called to us to stay, and not to approach farther; which we did. And thereupon the man whom I before described stood up, and with a loud voice in Spanish, asked, “Are ye Christians?” We answered, “We were;” fearing the less, because of the cross we had seen in the subscription. At which answer the said person lifted up his right hand towards heaven, and drew it softly to his mouth (which is the gesture they use, when they thank God,) and then said: “If ye will swear (all of you) by the merits of the Saviour that ye are no pirates, nor have shed blood lawfully or unlawfully within forty days past, you may have licence to come on land.” We said, “We were all ready to take that oath.” Whereupon one of those that were with him, being (as it seemed) a notary, made an entry of this act. Which done, another of the attendants of the great person, which was with him in the same boat, after his Lord had spoken a little to him, said aloud; “My Lord would have you know, that it is not of pride or greatness that he cometh not aboard your ship; but for that in your answer you declare that you have many sick amongst you, he was warned by the Conservator of Health of the city that he should keep a distance.” We bowed ourselves toward him, and answered, “We were his humble servants; and accounted for great honour and singular humanity toward us that which was already done; but hoped well that the nature of the sickness of our men was not infectious.” So he returned; and awhile after came the notary to us aboard our ship; holding in his hand a fruit of that country, like an orange, but of colour between orange-tawney and scarlet, which cast a most excellent odour. He used it (as it seemeth) for a preservative against infection. He gave us our oath; “By the name of Jesus, and his merits:” and after told us that the next day by six of the clock in the morning, we should be sent to, and brought to the Strangers’ House, (so he called it,) where we should be accommodated of things both for our whole and for our sick. So he left us; and when we offered him some pistolets, he smiling said, “He must not be twice paid for one labour:” meaning (as I take it) that he had salary suffi cient of the state for his service. For (as I after learned) they call an offi cer that taketh rewards, twice paid. The next morning early, there came to us the same offi cer that came to us at fi rst with his cane, and told us, “He came to conduct us to the Strangers’ House; and that he had prevented the hour, because we might have the whole day before us for our business. For,” said he, “if you will follow my advice, there shall fi rst go with me some few of you, and see the place, and how it may be made convenient for you; and then you may send for your sick, and the rest of your number which ye will bring on land.” We thanked him, and said, “That his care which he took of desolate strangers God would reward.” And so six of us went on land with him; and when we were on land, he went before us and turned to us, and said, “He was but our servant and our guide.” He led us through three fair streets; and all the way we went there were gathered some people on both sides standing in a row; but in so civil a fashion, as if it had been not to wonder at us but to welcome us; and divers of them, as we passed by them, put their arms a little abroad; which is their gesture when they bid any welcome. The Strangers’ House is a fair and spacious house, built of brick, of somewhat a bluer colour than our brick; and with handsome windows, some of glass, some of a kind of Lochithea 497

cambric oiled. He brought us fi rst into a fair parlour above stairs, and then asked us “What number of persons we were? And how many sick?” We answered, “We were in all (sick and whole) one and fi fty persons, whereof our sick were seventeen.” He desired us have patience a little, and to stay till he came back to us; which was about an hour after; and then he led us to see the chambers which were provided for us, being in number nineteen: they having cast it (as it seemeth) that four of those chambers, which were better than the rest, might receive four of the principal men of our company, and lodge them alone by themselves; and the other fi fteen chambers were to lodge us two and two together. The chambers were handsome and cheerful chambers, and furnished civilly. Then he led us to a long gallery, like a dorture,28 where he showed us all along the one side (for the other side was but wall and window) seventeen cells, very neat ones, having partitions of cedar wood. Which gallery and cells, being in all forty, (many more than we needed,) were instituted as an infi rmary for sick persons. And he told us withal, that as any of our sick waxed well, he might be removed from his cell to a chamber; for which purpose there were set forth ten spare chambers, besides the number we spake of before. This done, he brought us back to the parlour, and lifting up his cane a little, (as they do when they give any charge or command,) said to us, “Ye are to know that the custom of the land requireth, that after this day and to-morrow, (which we give you for removing your people from your ship,) you are to keep within doors for three days. But let it not trouble you, nor do not think yourselves restrained, but rather left to your rest and ease. You shall want nothing, and there are six of our people appointed to attend you, for any business you may have abroad.” We gave him thanks with all affection and respect, and said, “God surely is manifested in this land.” We offered him also twenty pistolets; but he smiled, and only said; “What? Twice paid!” And so he left us. Soon after our dinner was served in; which was right good viands, both for bread and meat:29 better than any collegiate diet that I have known in Europe. We had also drink of three sorts, all wholesome and good; wine of the grape; a drink of grain, such as is with us our ale, but more clear; and a kind of cider made of a fruit of that country; a wonderful pleasing and refreshing drink. Besides, there were brought in to us great store of those scarlet oranges for our sick; which (they said) were an assured remedy for sickness taken at sea. There was given us also a box of small grey or whitish pills, which they wished our sick should take, one of the pills every night before sleep; which (they said) would hasten their recovery. The next day, after that our trouble of carriage and removing of our men and goods out of our ship was somewhat settled and quiet, I thought good to call our company together; and when they were assembled said unto them; “My dear friends, let us know ourselves, and how it standeth with us. We are men cast on land, as Jonas was out of the whale’s belly, when we were as buried in the deep: and now we are on land, we are but between death and life; for we are beyond both the old world and the new; and whether ever we shall see Europe, God only knoweth. It is a kind of miracle hath brought us hither: and it

28 Dormitory 29 The translation has both for meat and drink 498 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals must be little less that shall bring us hence. Therefore in regard of our deliverance past, and our danger present and to come, let us look up to God, and every man reform his own ways. Besides we are come here among a Christian people, full of piety and humanity: let us not bring that confusion of face upon ourselves, as to show our vices or unworthiness before them. Yet there is more. For they have by commandment (though in form of courtesy) cloistered us within these walls for three days: who knoweth whether it be not to take some taste of our manners and conditions? And if they fi nd them bad, to banish us straightways; if good, to give us further time. For these men that they have given us for attendance may withal have an eye upon us. Therefore for God’s love, and as we love the weal of our souls and bodies, let us so behave ourselves as we may be at peace with God, and may fi nd grace in the eyes of this people.” Our company with one voice thanked me for my good admonition, and promised me to live soberly and civilly, and without giving any the least occasion of offence. So we spent our three days joyfully and without care, in expectation what would be done with us when they were expired. During which time, we had every hour joy of the amendment of our sick; who thought themselves cast into some divine pool of healing, they mended so kindly and so fast. The morrow after our three days were past, there came to us a new man that we had not seen before, clothed in blue as the former was, save that his turban was white, with a small red cross on top. He had also a tippet of fi ne linen. At his coming in, he did bend to us a little, and put his arms abroad. We of our parts saluted him in a very lowly and submissive manner; as looking that from him we should receive sentence of life or death. He desired to speak with some few of us: whereupon six of us only stayed, and the rest avoided the room. He said, “I am by offi ce governor of this House of Strangers, and by vocation I am a Christian priest; and therefore am come to you to offer you my service, both as strangers and chiefl y as Christians. Some things I may tell you, which I think you will not be unwilling to hear. The state hath given you licence to stay on land for the space of six weeks; and let it not trouble you if your occasions ask further time, for the law in this point is not precise; and I do not doubt but myself shall be able to obtain for you such further time as may be convenient. Ye shall also understand, that the Strangers’ House is at this time rich, and much aforehand; for it hath laid up revenue these thirty-seven years; for so long it is since any stranger arrived in this part; and therefore take ye no care; the state will defray you all the time you stay; neither shall you stay one day the less for that. As for any merchandise ye have brought, ye shall be well used, and have your return either in merchandise or in gold and silver: for to us it is all one. And if you have any other request to make, hide it not. For ye shall fi nd we will not make your countenance to fall by the answer ye shall receive. Only this I must tell you, that none of you must go above a karan (that is with them a mile and a half) “from the walls of the city, without special leave.” We answered, after we had looked awhile upon one another admiring this gracious and parent-like usage; “That we could not tell what to say: for we wanted words to express our thanks; and his noble free offers left us nothing to ask. It seemed to us that we had before us a picture of our salvation in heaven; for we that were awhile since in the jaws of death, were now brought into a place where we found nothing but consolations. For the Lochithea 499

commandment laid upon us, we would not fail to obey it, though it was impossible but our hearts should be infl amed to tread further upon this happy and holy ground.” We added; “That our tongues should fi rst cleave to the roofs of our mouths, ere we should forget either this reverend person or this whole nation in our prayers.” We also most humbly besought him to accept of us as his true servants, by as just a right as ever men on earth were bounden; laying and presenting both our persons and all we had at his feet. He said; “He was a priest, and looked for a priest’s reward: which was our brotherly love and the good of our souls and bodies.” So he went from us, not without tears of tenderness in his eyes; and left us also confused with joy and kindness, saying among ourselves, “That we were come into a land of angels, which did appear to us daily and prevent us with comforts, which we thought not of, much less expected.” The next day, about ten of the clock, the governor came to us again, and after salutations said familiarly, “That he was come to visit us:” and called for a chair, and sat him down: and we, being some ten of us (the rest were of the meaner sort, or else gone abroad,) sat down with him. And when we were set, he began thus: “We of this island of Bensalem,” (for so they call it in their language,) “have this; that by means of our solitary situation, and of the laws of secrecy which we have for our travellers, and our rare admission of strangers, we know well most part of the habitable world, and are ourselves unknown. Therefore because he that knoweth least is fi ttest to ask questions, it is more reason, for the entertainment of the time, that ye ask me questions, than that I ask you.” We answered; “That we humbly thanked him that he would give us leave so to do: and that we conceived by the taste we had already, that there was no worldly thing on earth more worthy to be known than the state of that happy land. But above all,” (we said,) “since that we were met from the several ends of the world, and hoped assuredly that we should meet one day in the Kingdom of Heaven, (for that we were both parts Christians.) We desired to know (in respect that land was so remote, and so divided by vast and unknown seas, from the land where our Saviour walked on earth,) who was the apostle of that nation, and how it was converted to the faith?” It appeared in his face that he took great contentment in this our question: he said, “Ye knit my heart to you, by asking this question in the fi rst place; for it sheweth that you fi rst seek the Kingdom of Heaven; and I shall gladly and briefl y satisfy your demand. “About twenty years after the ascension of our Saviour, it came to pass that there was seen by the people of Renfusa, (a city upon the eastern coast of our island,) within night, (the night was cloudy and calm,) as it might be some mile in the sea, a great pillar of light; not sharp, but in form of a column or cylinder, rising from the sea a great way up towards heaven: and on the top of it was seen a large cross of light, more bright and resplendent than the body of the pillar. Upon which so strange a spectacle, the people of the city gathered apace together upon the sands, to wonder; and so after put themselves into a number of small boats, to go nearer to this marvellous sight. But when the boats were come within about sixty yards of the pillar, they found themselves all bound, and could go no further; yet so as they might move to go about, but might not approach nearer: so as the boats stood all as in a theatre, beholding this light as an heavenly sign. It so fell out, 500 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals that there was in one of the boats one of the wise men of the society of Salomon’s House; which house or college (my good brethren) is the very eye of this Kingdom; who having awhile attentively and devoutly viewed and contemplated this pillar and cross, fell down upon his face; and then raised himself upon his knees, and lifting up his hands to heaven, made his prayers in this manner: “‘Lord God of heaven and earth, thou hast vouchsafed of thy grace to those of our order, to know thy works of creation, and the secrets of them; and to discern (as far as appertaineth to the generations of men) between divine miracles, works of nature, works of art, and impostures and illusions of all sorts. I do here acknowledge and testify before this people, that the thing we now see before our eyes is thy fi nger, and a true miracle; and forasmuch as we learn in our books that thou never workest miracles but to a divine and excellent end, (for the laws of nature are thine own laws, and thou exceedest them not but upon great cause,) we most humbly beseech thee to prosper this great sign, and to give us the interpretation and use of it in mercy; which thou dost in some part secretly promise by sending it unto us.’ “When he had made his prayer, he presently found the boat he was in movable and unbound; whereas all the rest remained still fast; and taking that for an assurance of leave to approach, he caused the boat to be softly and with silence rowed toward the pillar. But ere he came near it, the pillar and cross of light broke up, and cast itself abroad, as it were, into a fi rmament of many stars; which also vanished soon after, and there was nothing left to be seen but a small ark or chest of cedar, dry, and not wet at all with water, though it swam. And in the fore-end of it, which was towards him, grew a small green branch of palm; and when the wise man had taken it with all reverence into his boat, it opened of itself, and there were found in it a Book and a Letter; both written in fi ne parchment, and wrapped in sindons of linen.30 The Book contained all the canonical books of the Old and New Testament, according as you have them, (for we know well what the Churches with you receive); and the Apocalypse itself, and some other books of the New Testament which were not at that time written, were nevertheless in the Book. And for the Letter, it was in these words: “‘I, Bartholomew, a servant of the Highest, and Apostle of Jesus Christ, was warned by an angel that appeared to me in a vision of glory, that I should commit this ark to the fl oods of the sea. Therefore I do testify and declare unto that people where God shall ordain this ark to come to land, that in the same day is come unto them salvation and peace and good-will, from the Father, and from the Lord Jesus.’ “There was also in both these writings, as well the Book as the Letter, wrought a great miracle, conform to that of the Apostles in the original Gift of Tongues. For there being at that time in this land Hebrews, Persians, and Indians, besides the natives, every one read upon the Book and Letter, as if they had been written in his own language. And thus was this land saved from infi delity (as the remain of the old world was from water) by an ark, through the apostolical and miraculous evangelism of St. Bartholomew.” And here he paused, and a messenger came, and called him from us. So this was all that passed in that conference.

30 Linen sheets; the modern Greek word for sheets: Sendonia Lochithea 501

The next day, the same governor came again to us immediately after dinner, and excused himself, saying, “That the day before he was called from us somewhat abruptly, but now he would make us amends, and spend time with us, if we held his company and conference agreeable.” We answered, “That we held it so agreeable and pleasing to us, as we forgot both dangers past and fears to come, for the time we heard him speak; and that we thought an hour spent with him, was worth years of our former life.” He bowed himself a little to us, and after we were set again, he said; “Well, the questions are on your part.” One of our number said, after a little pause; “That there was a matter we were no less desirous to know, than fearful to ask, lest we might presume too far. But encouraged by his rare humanity toward us, (that could scarce think ourselves strangers, being his vowed and professed servants,) we would take the hardiness to propound it: humbly beseeching him, if he thought it not ﬁ t to be answered, that he would pardon it, though he rejected it.” We said; “We well observed those his words, which he formerly spake, that this happy island where we now stood was known to few, and yet knew most of the nations of the world; which we found to be true, considering they had the languages of Europe, and knew much of our State and business; and yet we in Europe (notwithstanding all the remote discoveries and navigations of this last age,) never heard any of the least inkling or glimpse of this island. This we found wonderful strange; for that all nations have inter-knowledge31 one of another either by voyage into foreign parts, or by strangers that come to them: and though the traveller into a foreign country doth commonly know more by the eye, than he that stayeth at home can by relation of the traveller; yet both ways sufﬁ ce to make a mutual knowledge, in some degree, on both parts. But for this island, we never heard tell of any ship of theirs that had been seen to arrive upon any shore of Europe; no, nor of either the East or West Indies; nor yet of any ship of any other part of the world that had made return for them. And yet the marvel rested not in this. For the situation of it (as his Lordship said) in the secret conclave of such a vast sea might cause it. But then that they should have knowledge of the languages, books, affairs, of those that lie such a distance from them, it was a thing we could not tell what to make of; for that it seemed to us a condition and propriety of divine powers and beings, to be hidden and unseen to others, and yet to have others open and as in a light to them.” At this speech the governor gave a gracious smile, and said; “That we did well to ask pardon for this question we now asked; for that it imported as if we thought this land a land of magicians, that sent forth spirits of the air into all parts, to bring them news and intelligence of other countries.” It was answered by us all, in all possible humbleness, but yet with a countenance taking knowledge that we knew that he spake it but merrily, “That we were apt enough to think there was somewhat supernatural in this island; but yet rather as angelical than magical. But to let his Lordship know truly what it was that made us tender and doubtful to ask this question, it was not any such conceit, but because we remembered he had given a touch in his former speech, that this land had laws of secrecy touching strangers.” To this he said; “You remember it aright; and therefore in that I shall say to you I must reserve some particulars, which it is not lawful for me to reveal; but there will be enough left to give you satisfaction.

31 “Enterknowledge” in the original 502 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

“You shall understand (that which perhaps you will scarce think credible) that about three thousand years ago, or somewhat more, the navigation of the world, (specially for remote voyages,) was greater than at this day. Do not think with yourselves that I know not how much it is increased with you within these six-score years: I know it well: and yet I say greater then than now; whether it was, that the example of the ark, that saved the remnant of men from the universal deluge, gave men confi dence to venture upon the waters; or what it was; but such is the truth. The Phoenicians, and especially the Tyrians, had great fl eets. So had the Carthaginians their colony, which is yet farther west. Toward the east, the shipping of Egypt and of Palestina was likewise great. China also, and the great Atlantis (that you call America), which have now but junks and Canoa’s, abounded then in tall ships. This island (as appeareth by faithful registers of those times) had then fi fteen hundred strong ships, of great content. Of all this there is with you sparing memory, or none; but we have large knowledge thereof. “At that time, this land was known and frequented by the ships and vessels of all the nations before named. And (as it cometh to pass) they had many times men of other countries, that were no sailors, that came with them; as Persians, Chaldeans, Arabians; so as almost all nations of might and fame resorted hither; of whom we have some stirps and little tribes with us at this day. And for our own ships, they went sundry voyages, as well to your Straits, which you call the Pillars of Hercules,32 as to other parts in the Atlantic and Mediterrane Seas; as to Paguin33 (which is the same with Cambaline)34 and Quinzy,35 upon the Oriental Seas, as far as to the borders of the East Tartary. “At the same time, and an age after, or more, the inhabitants of the great Atlantis did fl ourish.36 For though the narration and description which is made by a great man with you, that the descendants of Neptune planted there; and of the magnifi cent temple, palace, city, and hill; and the manifold streams of goodly navigable rivers, (which as so many chains, environed the same site and temple); and the several degrees of ascent whereby men did climb up to the same, as if it had been a scala coeli; [ladder to heaven;] be all poetical and fabulous; yet so much is true, that the said country of Atlantis, as well that of Peru, then called Coya, as that of Mexico, then named Tyrambel, were mighty and proud Kingdoms, in arms, shipping, and riches: so mighty, as at one time (or at least within the space of ten years) they both made two great expeditions; they of Tyrambel through the Atlantic to the Mediterrane Sea; and they of Coya through the South Sea upon this our island. And for the former of these, which was into Europe, the same author amongst you (as it seemeth) had some relation from the Egyptian priest whom he citeth. For assuredly such a thing there was. But whether it were the ancient Athenians that had the glory of the repulse and resistance of those forces, I can say nothing: but certain it is, there never

32 Chaucer’s Troilus and Cressida: “I am tyl God me better mynde sende, at Dulcarnon, right at my wytte’s end.” 33 Peking 34 Khambalik 35 Quinsai of Marco Polo 36 (a) Plato, Critias, p. 113., (b) Timæus, p. 25 Lochithea 503 came back either ship or man from that voyage. Neither had the other voyage of those of Coya upon us had better fortune, if they had not met with enemies of greater clemency. For the King of this island (by name Altabin) a wise man and a great warrior, knowing well both his own strength and that of his enemies, handled the matter so, as he cut off their land-forces from their ships; and entoiled both their navy and their camp with a greater power than theirs, both by sea and land; and compelled them to render themselves without striking a stroke: and after they were at his mercy, contenting himself only with their oath that they should no more bear arms against him, dismissed them all in safety. But the Divine Revenge overtook not long after those proud enterprises. For within less than the space of one hundred years, the great Atlantis was utterly lost and destroyed: not by a great earthquake, as your man saith, (for that whole tract is little subject to earthquakes,) but by a particular deluge or inundation; those countries having, at this day, far greater rivers and far higher mountains to pour down waters, than any part of the old world. But it is true that the same inundation was not deep; nor past forty foot, in most places, from the ground: so that although it destroyed man and beast generally, yet some few wild inhabitants of the wood37 escaped. Birds also were saved by fl ying to the high trees and woods. For as for men, although they had buildings in many places higher than the depth of the water, yet that inundation, though it were shallow, had a long continuance; whereby they of the vale that were not drowned, perished for want of food and other things necessary. So as marvel you not at the thin population of America, nor at the rudeness and ignorance of the people; for you must account your inhabitants of America as a young people; younger a thousand years, at the least, than the rest of the world; for that there was so much time between the universal fl ood and their particular inundation. For the poor remnant of human seed which remained in their mountains peopled the country again slowly, by little and little; and being simple and savage people, (not like Noah and his sons, which was the chief family of the earth,) they were not able to leave letters, arts, and civility to their posterity; and having likewise in their mountainous habitations been used (in respect of the extreme cold of those regions) to clothe themselves with the skins of tigers, bears, and great hairy goats, that they have in those parts; when after they came down into the valley, and found the intolerable heats which are there, and knew no means of lighter apparel, they were forced to begin the custom of going naked, which continueth at this day. Only they take great pride and delight in the feathers of birds, and this also they took from those their ancestors of the mountains, who were invited unto it by the infi nite fl ight of birds that came up to the high grounds, while the waters stood below. So you see, by this main accident of time, we lost our traffi c with the Americans, with whom of all others, in regard they lay nearest to us, we had most commerce. As for the other parts of the world, it is most manifest that in the ages following (whether it were in respect of wars, or by a natural revolution of time,) navigation did every where greatly decay; and specially far voyages (the rather by the use of galleys, and such vessels as could hardly brook the ocean,) were altogether left and omitted. So then, that part of intercourse38

37 Translation has “mountains” 38 “Entercourse” in the original 504 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals which could be from other nations to sail to us, you see how it hath long since ceased; except it were by some rare accident, as this of yours. But now of the cessation of that other part of intercourse, which might be by our sailing to other nations, I must yield you some other cause. For I cannot say (if I shall say truly,) but our shipping, for number, strength, mariners, pilots, and all things that appertain to navigation, is as great as ever: and therefore why we should sit at home, I shall now give you an account by itself: and it will draw nearer to give you satisfaction to your principal question. “There reigned in this island, about nineteen hundred years ago, a King, whose memory of all others we most adore; not superstitiously, but as a divine instrument, though a mortal man; his name was Solamona: and we esteem him as the lawgiver of our nation. This King had a large heart, inscrutable for good; and was wholly bent to make his Kingdom and people happy. He therefore, taking into consideration how suffi cient and substantive this land was to maintain itself without any aid at all of the foreigner; being fi ve thousand six hundred miles in circuit, and of rare fertility of soil in the greatest part thereof; and fi nding also the shipping of this country might be plentifully set on work, both by fi shing and by transportations from port to port, and likewise by sailing unto some small islands that are not far from us, and are under the crown and laws of this state; and recalling into his memory the happy and fl ourishing estate wherein this land then was, so as it might be a thousand ways altered to the worse, but scarce any one way to the better; though nothing wanted to his noble and heroical intentions, but only (as far as human foresight might reach) to give perpetuity to that which was in his time so happily established. Therefore amongst his other fundamental laws of this Kingdom, he did ordain the interdicts and prohibitions which we have touching entrance of strangers; which at that time (though it was after the calamity of America) was frequent; doubting novelties, and commixture of manners. It is true, the like law against the admission of strangers without licence is an ancient law in the Kingdom of China, and yet continued in use. But there it is a poor thing; and hath made them a curious, ignorant, fearful, foolish nation. But our lawgiver made his law of another temper. For fi rst, he hath preserved all points of humanity, in taking order and making provision for the relief of strangers distressed; whereof you have tasted.” At which speech (as reason was) we all rose up, and bowed ourselves. He went on. “That King also, still desiring to join humanity and policy together; and thinking it against humanity to detain strangers here against their wills, and against policy that they should return and discover their knowledge of this estate, he took this course: he did ordain that of the strangers that should be permitted to land, as many (at all times) might depart as would; but as many as would stay should have very good conditions and means to live from the state. Wherein he saw so far, that now in so many ages since the prohibition, we have memory not of one ship that ever returned; and but of thirteen persons only, at several times, that chose to return in our bottoms. What those few that returned may have reported abroad I know not. But you must think, whatsoever they have said could be taken where they came but for a dream. Now for our travelling from hence into parts abroad, our Lochithea 505

Lawgiver thought fi t altogether to restrain it. So is it not in China. For the Chinese sail where they will or can; which sheweth that their law of keeping out strangers is a law of pusillanimity and fear. But this restraint of ours hath one only exception, which is admirable; preserving the good which cometh by communicating with strangers, and avoiding the hurt; and I will now open it to you. And here I shall seem a little to digress, but you will by and by fi nd it pertinent. Ye shall understand (my dear friends) that amongst the excellent acts of that King, one above all hath the pre-eminence. It was the erection and institution of an Order or Society, which we call Salomon’s House; the noblest foundation (as we think) that ever was upon the earth; and the lanthorn of this Kingdom. It is dedicated to the study of the Works and Creatures of God. Some think it beareth the founder’s name a little corrupted, as if it should be Solamona’s House. But the records write it as it is spoken. So as I take it to be denominate of the King of the Hebrews, which is famous with you, and no strangers to us. For we have some parts of his works which with you are lost; namely, that Natural History which he wrote, of all plants, from the cedar of Libanus to the moss that groweth out of the wall, and of all things that have life and motion. This maketh me think that our King, fi nding himself to symbolize in many things with that King of the Hebrews (which lived many years before him), honoured him with the title of this foundation.39 And I am the rather induced to be of this opinion, for that I fi nd in ancient records this Order or Society is sometimes called Salomon’s House, and sometimes the College of the Six Days Works; whereby I am satisfi ed that our excellent King had learned from the Hebrews that God had created the world and all that therein is within six days; and therefore he instituting that House for the fi nding out of the true nature of all things, (whereby God might have the more glory in the workmanship of them, and men the more fruit in their use of them,) did give it also that second name. But now to come to our present purpose. When the King had forbidden to all his people navigation into any part that was not under his crown, he made nevertheless this ordinance; That every twelve years there should be set forth out of this Kingdom two ships, appointed to several voyages; That in either of these ships there should be a mission of three of the Fellows or Brethren of Salomon’s House; whose errand was only to give us knowledge of the affairs and state of those countries to which they were designed, and especially of the sciences, arts, manufactures, and inventions of all the world; and withal to bring unto us books, instruments, and patterns in every kind;40 That the ships, after they had landed the brethren, should return; and that the brethren should stay abroad till the new mission. These ships are not otherwise fraught, than with store of victuals, and good quantity of treasure to remain with the brethren, for the buying of such things and rewarding of such persons as they should think fi t. Now for me to tell you how the vulgar sort of mariners are

39 Robert Leslie Ellis, M.A. offers his opinion: “Bacon is speaking of this King who symbolizes with Solomon seems to allude to James I.” James Spedding, M.A. offers his opinion: “James I., had reigned above twenty years without doing or attempting to do anything of the furtherance of Natural Philosophy; without showing any interest in it or any taste of capacity for it; I cannot understand what the allusion can be or where the resemblance. Nor does it seem necessary to suppose anything of the kind in order to explain why a model-king for wisdom and knowledge should be likened to Solomon.” 40 A task undertaken by Lord Bacon and Dr. John Dee upon Queen Elizabeth I’s commandment 506 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals contained from being discovered at land; and how they must be put on shore for any time, colour themselves under the names of other nations; and to what places these voyages have been designed; and what places of rendez-vous are appointed for the new missions; and the like circumstances of the practique; I may not do it: neither is it much to your desire. But thus you see we maintain a trade, not for gold, silver, or jewels; nor for silks; nor for spices; nor any other commodity of matter; but only for God’s ﬁ rst creature, which was Light: to have light (I say) of the growth of all parts of the world.” And when he had said this, he was silent; and so were we all. For indeed we were all astonished to hear so strange things so probably told. And he, perceiving that we were willing to say somewhat but had it not ready, in great courtesy took us off, and descended to ask us questions of our voyage and fortunes; and in the end concluded, that we might do well to think with ourselves what time of stay we would demand of the state; and bade us not to scant ourselves; for he would procure such time as we desired. Whereupon we all rose up, and presented ourselves to kiss the skirt of his tippet; but he would not suffer us; and so took his leave. But when it came once amongst our people that the state used to offer conditions to strangers that would stay, we had work enough to get any of our men to look to our ship, and to keep them from going presently to the governor to crave conditions. But with much ado we refrained them, till we might agree what course to take. We took ourselves now for free men, seeing there was no danger of our utter perdition; and lived most joyfully, going abroad and seeing what was to be seen in the city and places adjacent within our tedder; and obtaining acquaintance with many of the city, not of the meanest quality; at whose hands we found such humanity, and such a freedom and desire to take strangers as it were into their bosom, as was enough to make us forget all that was dear to us in our own countries: and continually we met with many things right worthy of observation and relation; as indeed, if there be a mirror in the world worthy to hold men’s eyes, it is that country. End Of Part One

Whilst dictating some of my experiments to Dr. Rawley, I send a friend to Court to receive for me a fi nal answer touching the effect of a grant, which had been made me by his Majesty. I have hitherto only hope to it, and hope deferred; and I am desirous to know the event of the matter, and to be freed, one way or other, from the suspense of my thoughts. My friend returneth, plainly telling, that I must thenceforth despair of that grant, how much soever my fortunes needed it. Be it so! I dismiss my friend very cheerfully, with thankful acknowledgments of his service. I come straightway to Dr. Rawley: “Well, Sir, yon business won’t go on; let us go on with this, for this is in our power.” I dedicate afresh for some hours, without the least hesitancy of speech or discernible interruption of thought.41 The death of King James I., after twenty-three years of reign and at the age of fi fty- seven, arriveth; accession of King Charles I., and with my newly enlarged version of essays touch the prints, contain a total of fi fty-eight of which are translated into Latin and Italian

41 Tenison’s account Lochithea 507 by Tobie Matthew and into French by Marquis D’ Effi at, the French Ambassador, who upon his fi rst visit to see me, thus saith: “Your Lordship hath been to me hitherto like the angels, but never saw them before.” In humble answer I saith, “Sir, the charity of others, does liken me to an angel, but my own infi rmities tell me I am a man.” He desires and so obtains my portrait, which is carried to France with him. What a strange power do the poets attribute to the senses, who make Narcissus so desperately in love with his own shadow? Cunctaque miratur, quibus est mirabilis ipse; Se cupit imprudens, et, qui probat, ipse probatur; Daumque petit, petitur: pariterque accendit, et ardet. [He admires all things by which he is admired: silly fellow, he desires himself; the praises which he gives, he claims; he seeks, and is sought; he is infl amed and infl ames.42] Or let a philosopher be put into a cage of small thin set bars of iron, and hang him on the top of the high tower of Nôtre Dame of Paris; he will see, by manifest reason, that he cannot possibly fall, and yet he will fi nd, unless he have been used to the tiler’s trade, that he cannot help but that the excessive height will fi ghten and astound him.43 London plays with a death clock; the plague leaves Westminster, the Strand, all the Inns of Court and the Royal Exchange forsaken;44 in divers ditches and low grounds about London, many toads that had tails two or three inches long at the least; whereas toads (usually) have no tails at all. Which argueth a great disposition to putrefaction in the soil and air.45 ’Tis of time I restructure my Will and Testament:

The Last Will Francis Bacon, Viscount St Alban. FIRST, I bequeath my soul and body into the hand of God, by the blessed oblation of my Saviour; the one at the time of my Dissolution, the other at the time of my Resurrection. For my burial, I desire it may be in St. Michael’s Church, near St. Albans. There was my mother buried; and it is the Parish Church of my mansion house of Gorhambury; and it is the only Christian Church within the walls of old Verulam. I would have the charge of my funeral not to exceed £300 at the most. For my name and memory, I leave it to foreign nations, and to mine own Countrymen, after some time be passed over. But towards that durable part of memory, which consisteth in my writings, I require my servant, Henry Percy, to deliver to my brother Constable, all my manuscript compositions, and the fragments also of such as are not ﬁ nished; to the end that, if any of them be ﬁ t to

42 Ovid, Met., iii. 424 43 Extract from Michel Eyquem de Montaigne’s Essay XII. Montaigne (1533–1592) was a French essayist of worldwide celebrity, who may be regarded as the inventor of the essay form, and had a great infl uence on English writers 44 See F.P. Wilson: The Plague in Shakespeare’s London, 1963 45 Spedding comments on this that “so many idle stories are told in a time of general panic, that it is scarcely worth while to attempt to explain the statement in the text.” 508 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals be published, he may accordingly dispose of them. And herein I desire him, to take the advice of Mr. Selden, and Mr. Herbert, of the Inner Temple, and to publish or suppress what shall be thought fi t. In particular, I wish the Elegie, which I writ in Felicem Memoriam Elizabethæ, may be published.46 And my very good friend Mr. Bosvile, to take care that of all my writings, both of English and of Latin, there may be books fair bound, and placed in the King’s library, and in the library of the University of Cambridge, and in the library of Trinity College, where my self was bred, and in the library of Bennet College, where my father was bred, and in the library of the University of Oxonford, and in the library of my Lord of Canterbury, and in the library of Eaton. Also whereas I have made up two register books, the one of my orations or speeches, the other of my epistles or letters, whereof there may be use; and yet because they touch upon business of state, they are not fi t to be put into the hands but of some Councillor, I do devise and bequeath them to the right honourable my very good Lord the Lord Bishop of Lincoln, and the Chancellor of his Majesty’s Duchy of Lancaster. Also, I desire my executors, especially my brother Constable, and also Mr. Bosvile, presently after my decease, to take into their hands all my papers whatsoever, which are either in cabinets, boxes, or presses, and them to seal up until they may at their leisure peruse them. I give and bequeath unto the poor of the parishes where I have at any time rested in my pilgrimage, some little relief according to my poor means: to the poor of St. Martin’s in the Fields, where I was born, and lived in my fi rst and last days, forty pounds; to the poor of St. Michael’s near St. Albans, where I desire to be buried, because the day of death is better than the day of birth, fi fty pounds; to the poor of St. Andrew’s in Holborn, in respect of my long abode in Gray’s Inn, thirty pounds; to the poor of the abbey church parish in St. Albany, twenty pounds; to the poor of St. Peter’s there, twenty pounds; to the poor of St. Stephen’s there, twenty pounds; to the poor of Redborn, twenty pounds; to the poor of Hempstead, where I heard sermons and prayers to my comfort in the time of the former great plague, twenty pounds; to the poor of Twickenham, where I lived some time at Twickenham Park, twenty pounds. I intreat Mr. Shute of Lombard Street to preach my funeral sermon, and to him in that respect I give twenty pounds: or if he cannot be had, Mr. Peterson, my late chaplain, or his brother. Devises and legacies to my wife: I give, grant, and confi rm to my loving wife, by this my last will, whatsoever hath been assured to her, or mentioned or intended to be assured to her by any former deed, be it either my lands in Hertfordshire, or the farm of the seal, or the gift of goods in accomplishment of my covenants of marriage; and I give her also the ordinary stuff at Gorhambury, as wainscot tables, stools, bedding, and the like (always reserving and excepting the rich hangings with their covers, the table-carpets, and the long cushions, and all other stuff which was or is used in the long gallery; and also a rich chair, which was my niece Cæsar’s gift, and also the armour, and also all tables of marble and touch). I give also to my wife my four coach geldings, and my best caroache, and her own coach mares and caroache: I give also and grant to my wife the one-half of the rent

46 The contents of the Will and Testament, up to this point, is taken from Baconiana published in 1679; the remaining context is from Spedding’s Works Lochithea 509 which was reserved upon Read’s lease for her life; which rent although I intended to her merely for her better maintenance while she lived at her own charge, and not to continue after my death, yet because she has begun to receive it, I am content to continue it to her; and I conceive by this advancement, which fi rst and last I have left her, besides her own inheritance, I have made her of competent abilities to maintain the estate of a Viscountess, and given suffi cient tokens of my love and liberality towards her; for I do reckon (and that with the least), that Gorhambury and my lands in Hertfordshire, will be worth unto her seven hundred pounds per annum, besides woodfells, and the leases of the houses, whereof fi ve hundred pounds per annum only I was tied unto by covenants upon marriage; so as the two hundred pounds and better was mere benevolence; the six hundred pounds per annum upon the farm of the writs, was likewise mere benevolence; her own inheritance also, with that she purchased with part of her portion, is two hundred pounds per annum and better, besides the wealth she hath in jewels, plate, or otherwise, wherein I was never strait-handed. All which I here set down, not because I think it too much, but because others may not think it less than it is. Legacies to my friends: I give unto the right honourable my worthy friend the Marquis Fiatt, late Lord Ambassador of France, my books of orisons or psalms curiously rhymed; I give unto the right honourable my noble friend Edward Earl of Dorset, my ring, with the crushed diamond, which the King that now is gave me when he was Prince; I give unto my right honourable friend the Lord Cavendish, my casting-bottle of gold; I give to my brother Constable all my books, and one hundred pounds to be presented him in gold; I give to my sister Constable, some jewels, to be bought for her, of the value of fi fty pounds; I give to Nall, her daughter, some jewels, to be bought for her, of the value of forty pounds; I give to my Lady Cooke, some jewels to be bought for her, of the value of fi fty pounds; and to her daughter, Ann Cooke, to buy her a jewel, forty pounds; and to her son, Charles, some little jewel, to the value of thirty pounds. I will also, that my executors sell my chambers in Gray’s Inn, which (now the lease is full) I conceive may yield some three hundred pounds: one hundred pounds for the ground story, and two hundred pounds for the third and fourth stories; which money, or whatsoever it be, I desire my executors to bestow for some little present relief, upon twenty-fi ve poor scholars in both Universities: fi fteen in Cambridge, and ten in Oxonford. I give to Mr. Thomas Meautis, some jewel, to be bought for him, of the value of fi fty pounds, and my foot-cloth horse. I give to my ancient good friend Sir Toby Matthews, some ring, to be bought for him, of the value of thirty pounds. I give to my very good friend Sir Christopher Darcy, some ring, to be bought for him, of the value of thirty pounds. I give to Mr. Henry Percy one hundred pounds. I give to Mr. Henry Goodricke, forty pounds. I give to my godson Francis Lowe son of Humphrey Lowe, one hundred and fi fty pounds. I give to my godson Francis Hatcher son of Mr. William Hatcher, one hundred pounds. I give to my godson Francis Fleetwood son of Henry Fleetwood Esq., fi fty pounds. I give to my godson Philipps son of auditor Philipps, twenty pounds: I give to every of my executors, a piece of plate of thirty pounds value. Legacies to my servants now, or late servants: I give to my servant Robert Halpeny four hundred pounds, and the one-half of my provisions of hay, fi rewood, and timber, which shall remain at the time of my decease: I give to my servant Stephen Paise three hundred 510 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and fi fty pounds, and my bed with the appurtenances, bed-linen and apparel-linen, as shirts, pillow-biers, sheets, caps, handkerchiefs, etc. I give to my servant Wood three hundred and thirty pounds, with all my apparel, as doublets, hose; and to his wife ten pounds: I give to my late servant Francis Edney two hundred pounds and my rich gown: to my ancient servant Troughton one hundred pounds; I give to my chaplain Dr. Rawleigh one hundred pounds: I give to my ancient servant Welles one hundred pounds: I give to my ancient servant Fletcher one hundred pounds, and to his brother ten pounds: and if my servant Fletcher be dead, then the whole to his brother. I give to my wife’s late waiting- gentlewoman Mrs. Wagstaffe one hundred pounds: I give to Morrice Davis one hundred pounds: I give to old John Bayes one hundred pounds: I give to my ancient servant Woder three score and ten pounds: I give to my ancient servant Guilman three score pounds: I give to my ancient servant Faldo forty pounds: I give to London my coachman forty pounds: I give to Harsnep my groom forty pounds: I give to Abraham my footman forty pounds: I give Smith my bayliff and his wife forty pounds: I give to my ancient servant Bowes thirty pounds: I give to my servant Atkins thirty pounds: I give to old Thomas Gotherum, who was bred with me from a child, thirty pounds: I give to my servant Plomer twenty pounds: I give to Daty my cook twenty pounds: I give to Henry Brown twenty pounds: I give to Richard Smith twenty pounds: I give to William Sayers ten pounds: I give to John Large twenty pounds: I give to old goodwife Smith ten pounds: I give to Peter Radford’s wife fi ve pounds: I give to every mean servant that attends me, and is not already named, fi ve pounds. The general devise and bequest of all my lands and goods to the performance of my will. Whereas by former assurance made to Sir John Constable, Knight, my brother-in-law, and to Sir Thomas Crewe and Sir Thomas Hedley, Knights, and Serjeants at Law, and some other persons now deceased, all my lands and tenements in Hertfordshire were by me conveyed in trust: And whereas of late my fi ne, and the whole benefi t thereof, was by his Majesty’s letters patents conveyed to Mr. Justice Hutton, Mr. Justice Chamberlain, Sir Francis Barneham, and Sir Thomas Crewe Knight, persons by me named in trust; I do devise by this my will, and declare, that the trust by me reposed, as well touching the said lands as upon the said letters patents, is, that all and every the said persons so trusted, shall perform all acts and assurances that by my executors, or the survivor or survivors of them, shall be thought fi t and required, for the payment and satisfaction of my debts and legacies, and performance of my will, having a charitable care that the poorest either of my creditors or legataries be fi rst satisfi ed. I do further give and devise all my goods, chattels, and debts due to me whatsoever, as well my pension of twelve hundred pounds per annum from the King for certain years yet to come, as all my plate, jewels, household-stuff, goods, and chattels whatsoever (except such as by this my last will I have especially bequeathed), to my executors, for the better and more ready payment of my debts, and performance of my will. And because I conceive there will be upon the moneys raised by sale of my lands, leases, goods and chattels, a good round surplusage, over and above that which may serve to satisfy my debts and legacies, and perform my will; I do devise and declare, that my executors Lochithea 511 shall employ the said surplusage in manner and form following: that is to say, that they purchase therewith so much land of inheritance, as may erect and endow two lectures in either the Universities, one of which lectures shall be of natural philosophy, and the sciences in general thereunto belonging; hoping that the stipends or salaries of the lectures may amount to two hundred pounds a year for either of them; and for the ordering of the said lectures, and the election of the lecturers from time to time, I leave it to the care of my executors, to be established by the advice of the Lords Bishops of Lincoln and Coventry and Litchfi eld. Nevertheless thus much I do direct, that none shall belecturer (if he be English) except he be master of arts of seven years standing, arid that he be not professed in divinity, law, or physic, as long as he remains lecturer; and that it be without difference whether he be a stranger or English: and I wish my executors to consider of the precedent of Sir Henry Savil’s lectures for their better instruction. I constitute and appoint for my executors of this my last will and testament, my approved good friend the right honourable Sir Humphrey Maye, Chancellor of his Majesty’s Duchy of Lancaster, Mr. Justice Hutton, Sir Thomas Crewe, Sir Francis Barnham, Sir John Constable, and Sir Euball Thelwall; and I name and intreat to be one of my supervisors, my moat noble, constant, and true friend, the Duke of Buckingham, unto whom I do most humbly make this my last request, that he will reach forth his hand of grace to assist the just performance of this my will, and likewise that he will be graciously pleased for my sake to protect and help such of my good servants, as my executors shall at any time recommend to his grace’s favour: and also I desire his grace in all humbleness to commend the memory of my long-continued and faithful service unto my most gracious Sovereign, who ever when he was Prince was my patron, as I shall (who have now, I praise God, one foot in heaven) pray for him while I have breath. And because of his grace’s great business, I presume also to name for another of my supervisors, my good friend and near ally the master of the rolls. And I do most earnestly intreat both my executors and supervisors, that although I know well it is matter of trouble and travail unto them, yet considering what I have been, that they would vouchsafe to do this last offi ce to my memory and good name, and to the discharge of mine honour and conscience; that all men may be duly paid their own, that my good mind by their good care, may effect that good work. Whatsoever I have given, granted, confi rmed, or appointed to my wife, in the former part of this my will, I do now, for just and great causes, utterly revoke and make void, and leave her to her right only. I desire my executors to have special care to discharge a debt by bond (now made in my sickness to Mr. Thomas Meautes), he discharging me fully towards Sir Robert Douglass, and to pro-cure Sir Robert Douglass his patent to be delivered to him. Fra. St Alban. Published The Nineteenth Day Of December, 1625, In The Presence Of W. Rawley, Ro. Halpeny, Stephen Paise, Will. Atkins, Thomas Kent, Edward Legge. 512 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Upon the signing of my Will & Testament, setting aside a coin to be placed in my dead mouth given to St. Peter, I forward the following letter to Bishop Williams, who lighteth well:47

My Very Good Lord. I am much bound to your Lordship for your honourable promise to Dr. Rawley. He chooseth rather to depend upon the same in general, than to pitch upon my particular; which modesty of choice I commend. I fi nd that the ancients (as Cicero, Demosthenes, Plinius Secundus, and others) have preserved both their orations and their epistle. In imitation of whom I have done the like to my own; which nevertheless I will not publish while I live. But have been bold to bequeath them to your Lordship, and Mr. Chancellor of the Duchy. My speeches (perhaps) you will think fi t to publish. The letters, many of them, touch too much upon late matters of state, to be published; yet I was willing they should not be lost. I have also by my Will erected two lectures in perpetuity, in either University one, with an endowment of £200 per annum apiece. They to be for Natural Philosophy, and the Sciences thereupon depending; which foundations I have required my executors to order, by the advice and direction of your Lordship, and my Lord Bishop of Coventry and Litchfi eld. These be my thoughts now. I rest, your Lordship’s most affectionate to do you service. Fra. St Alban.

Francis Bacon Essay XXIII. Of Young Men and Age. A man that is young in years, may be old in hours; if he have lost no time. But that happeneth rarely. Generally youth is like the fi rst cogitations, not so wise as the second: for there is a youth in thoughts, as well as in ages. Natures that have much hear, and great and violent desires and perturbations, are not ripe for action, till they have passed the meridian of their years: but reposed natures may do well in youth: as on the otherside heat and vivacity in age is an excellent composition for business. Young men are fi tter to invent than to judge; fi tter for execution than for Council; and fi tter of new projects, than for settled business. For the experience of age in things that fall within the compass of it, directeth them: but in things merely new abuseth them. The errors of young men are the ruin of business: but the error of aged men, amount but to this; that more might have been done, or sooner. Young men in the conduct and manage of actions, embrace more than they can hold, stir more than they can quiet, fl y to the end without consideration of the means, and degrees, pursue some few principles, which they have chanced upon absurdly, care not to innovate, which draws unknown inconveniences; use extreme remedies at fi rst: and that which doubleth all errors, will not acknowledge nor retract them; like an unready horse, that will neither stop nor turn. Men of age object too much, consult too long, adventure too little, repent too soon, and seldom drive business home to the full period; but content themselves with a mediocrity of success. Certainly it is good to compound employments

47 Baconiana, 1679 Lochithea 513 of both: for that will be good for the present; because the virtues of either age may correct the defects of both: and good for succession, that young men may be learners, while men in age are actors: and lastly, in respect of extern accidents, because authority followeth old men, and favour and popularity youth. But for the moral part: perhaps youth will have the preheminence, as age hath for the politic. A certain Rabby upon the Text, Your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams: inferreth, that young men are admitted nearer to God than old, because vision is a clearer revelation, than a dream. And certainly, the more a man drinketh of the world, the more it intoxicateth; and age doth proﬁ t rather in the powers of understanding, than in the virtues of the will and affections.

Let us go on, and see how Buckingham doth but spin on his own little threads; I leave the reasons to the party’s relation and the consideration of them to your wisdom Reader:

To The Lord St Alban48 My noble Lord. Now that I am provide of a house I have thought it congruous to give your Lordship notice thereof, that you may no longer hang upon the treaty, which hath been between your Lordship and me, touching York House, in which I assure your Lordship I have never desired to put you to the least inconvenience. So I rest your Lordship’s servant. G. Buckingham

48 R. Stephens: Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon, 1734 To Live Twice A Day 1626 of the age sixty-ﬁ ve and the future

While you converse with lords and dukes, I have their betters here—my books; ﬁ xed in an elbow chair at ease, I choose companions as I please —Thomas Sheridan

The Sick Rose1 O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, That ﬂ ies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy

An Epitaph is but a kind of Epigram only applied to the report of the dead persons estate and degree, or of his other good or bad parts, to his commendation or reproach: and is an inscription such as a man may commodiously write or engrave upon a tomb in few verses, pithy, quick and sententious for the passer by to peruse, and judge upon without any long variance: so as if it exceed the measure of an Epigram, it is then (if the verse be correspon- dent) rather an Elegy then an Epitaph which error many of these bastard rhymers commit, because they be not learned, nor (as we are wont to say) their crafts masters, for they make long and tedious discourses, and write them in large tables to be hanged up in churches and chancels over the tombs of great men and others, which be so exceeding long as one must have half a day’s leisure to read one of them, and must be called away before he come half to the end, or else be locked into the church by the Sexton as I myself was once served reading an Epitaph in a certain Cathedral Church of England. They be ignorant of poesy that call such long tales by the name of Epitaphs, they might better call them Elegies, as I said before, and then ought neither to be engraven nor hanged up in tables. I have seen

1 William Blake: Songs of Innocence and of Experience, 1788

514 Lochithea 515 them nevertheless upon many honourable tombs of these late times erected, which do rather disgrace then honour either the matter or maker.2 I believe therefore, the way to virtuous and happy life is a short one:3 though not for shortness of arrangement for my cared person; ’tis what I can do, as of the past, rewarding him with good place freely:4 to Sir Edward Conway I forward movement for Percy, my good friend and late servant. He hath a suit to his Majesty; grounded upon service of profi t which he hath done his Majesty, for the making of a friend of his Baronet. I pray Sir Conway commend this his petition to his Majesty; I shall account the pleasure all one as done unto myself. Let me make an end of my tale, rich only in large hurts, I was likely to have had the fortune of Cajus Plinius the elder, who lost his life by trying an experiment about the burning of the mountain Vesuvius. For I was also desirous to try an experiment or two, touching the conservation and induration of bodies.5 As for the experiment itself, it succeeded excellently well; but in the journey, between London and Highgate, I was taken with such a fi t of casting, as I knew not whether it were the stone, or some surfeit, or cold, or indeed a touch of them all three. But when I came upon Thomas Arundel’s6 house, I was not able to go back, and therefore was forced to take up my lodging there, where his housekeeper is very careful and diligent about me; which I assure my self his Lordship will not only pardon towards him, but think the better of him for it. For indeed his Lordship’s house is happy to me; and I kiss from afar his noble hands for the welcome which I am sure he give me to it, &c. I know how unfi t it is for me to write with any other hand than mine own; but in troth my fi ngers are so disjointed with this fi t of sickness, that I cannot steadily hold a pen.7 ’Tis such pity my shake allows me not to stroll in Arundel’s Garden, where there are a great number of ancient statues of naked men and women, made to stand; and astonished as I once was when seeing them, cried out: The Resurrection.8 I need mention, if Lord Arundel countenance and prefer, he durst recommend I not be called to the Bar nor deprived of my peerage, in 1621, when the Lords, according onto their wishes hath considered evidence against me, their Lord Chancellor to which they crown him with coles.

2 George Puttenham: The Arte of English Poesie, 1589 3 Quintilian, xii, II 4 Gratis: without taking money 5 Francis Bacon: Sequela Chartarum “Cold maketh bones of living creatures more fragile. Cold maketh living creatures to swell in the joints, and the blood to clot, and turn more blue. Cold maketh the arteries and ﬂ esh more asper and rough. Cold causes rheums and distillations by compressing the brain, and laxes by like reason. Meat will keep from putrifying longer in frosty weather, than at other times.” This last conclusion of an old experiment performed by Bacon allows one to question his actions and why he would repeat a similar experiment that already had a resolution. See The Miscellaneous Writings of Francis Bacon printed in 1802 for the full experiment—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) 6 Thomas, 2nd Earl of Arundel (1586–1646) 7 Lord Bacon’s last letter 8 Francis Bacon: Apophthegms 516 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

You may certainly laugh, and well may you laugh, when I tell you that your old friend has turned sportsman, and has captured three magnifi cent boars. “What,” you say, “Pliny?” Yes, I my self, though without giving up my much loved inactivity. While I sat at the nets, you might have found me holding, not a spear, but my pen. I was resolved, if I returned with my hands empty, at least to bring home my tablets full. This open- air way of studying is not at all to be despised. The activity and the scene stimulate the imagination; and there is something in the solemnity and solitude of the woods, and in the expectant silence of the chase, that greatly promotes meditation. I advise you whenever you hunt in future to take your tablets with you as well as your basket and fl ask. You will fi nd that Minerva, as well as Diana, haunts these hills.9 I have lived and fi nished the career Fortune placed before me.10

Rumour By Joel Buxter11 Sharp, irresistible by mail or shield, By guard unparried as by ﬂ ight unstayed, O serviceable Rumour, let me wield against my enemy no other blade. His be the terror of a foe unseen, His the inutile hand upon the hilt, And mine the deadly tongue, long, slender, keen, Hinting a rumour of some ancient guilt. So shall I slay the wretch without a blow, Spare me to celebrate his overthrow, And nurse my valour for another foe.

Before I put forth my second part of New Atlantis, I offer sweet Reader, a fragment of Campanella’s City of the Sun12 and also a fragment of Sir Thomas Mores’ Utopia.13

9 Pliny the Younger b. 62 A.D.; his letter to Cornelius Tacitus 10 Æneid, iv. 653. 11 Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictionary, 1881 12 Published in 1776—See Ideal Commonwealths by various authors published 1890 for the complete project 13 Written in 1515–16. One evening Mr. Rudolph Block, of New York, found himself seated at dinner alongside Mr. Percival Pollard, the distinguished critic. “Mr. Pollard,” said he, “my book, The Biography of a Dead Cow, is published anonymously, but you can hardly be ignorant of its authorship. Yet in reviewing it you speak of it as the work of the Idiot of the Century. Do you think that fair criticism?” “I am very sorry, sir,” replied the critic, amiably, “but it did not occur to me that you really might not wish the public to know who wrote it.” Lochithea 517

Extract from City of the Sun A Poetical Dialogue Between a Grandmaster of the Knights Hospitallers and a Genoese Sea-captain, his guest. By Thomas Campanella The temple is built in the form of a circle; it is not girt with walls, but stands upon thick columns, beautifully grouped. A very large dome, built with great care in the centre or pole, contains another small vault as it were rising out of it, and in this is a spiracle, which is right over the altar. There is but one altar in the middle of the temple, and this is hedged round by columns. The temple itself is on a space of more than three hundred and fi fty paces. Without it, arches measuring about eight paces extend from the heads of the columns outwards, whence other columns rise about three paces from the thick, strong and erect wall. Between these and the former columns there are galleries for walking, with beautiful pavements, and in the recess of the wall, which is adorned with numerous large doors, there are immovable seats, placed as it were between the inside columns, supporting the temple. Portable chairs are not wanting, many and well adorned. Nothing is seen over the altar but a large globe, upon which the heavenly bodies are painted, and another globe upon which there is a representation of the earth. Furthermore, in the vault of the dome there can be discerned representations of all the stars of heaven from the fi rst to the sixth magnitude, with their proper names and power to infl uence terrestrial things marked in three little verses for each. There are the poles and greater and lesser circles according to the right latitude of the place, but these are not perfect because there is no wall below. They seem, too, to be made in their relation to the globes on the altar. The pavement of the temple is bright with precious stones. Its seven golden lamps hang always burning, and these bear the names of the seven planets.

Extract from Utopia By Sir Thomas More The island of Utopia is in the middle two hundred miles broad, and holds almost at the same breadth over a great part of it; but it grows narrower towards both ends. Its fi gure is not unlike a crescent: between its horns, the sea comes in eleven miles broad, and spreads itself into a great bay, which is environed with land to the compass of about fi ve hundred miles, and is well secured from winds. In this bay there is no great current, the whole coast is, as it were, one continued harbour, which gives all that live in the island great convenience for mutual commerce; but the entry into the bay, occasioned by rocks on the one hand, and shallows on the other, is very dangerous. In the middle of it there is one single rock, which appears above water, and may therefore be easily avoided, and on the top of it there is a tower in which a garrison is kept, the other rocks lie under water, and are very dangerous. The channel is known only to the natives, so that if any stranger should enter into the bay, without one of their pilots, he would run great danger of shipwreck; for even they 518 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals themselves could not pass it safe, if some marks that are on the coast did not direct their way; and if these should be but a little shifted, any fl eet that might come against them, how great soever it were, would be certainly lost. On the other side of the island there are likewise many harbours; and the coast is so fortifi ed, both by nature and art, that a small number of men can hinder the descent of a great army. But they report (and there remains good marks of it to make it credible) that this was no island at fi rst, but a part of the continent. Utopus that conquered it (whose name it still carries, for Abraxa was its fi rst name) brought the rude and uncivilized inhabitants into such a good government, and to that measure of politeness, that they now far excel all the rest of mankind; having soon subdued them, he designed to separate them from the continent, and to bring the sea quite round them. To accomplish this, he ordered a deep channel to be dug fi fteen miles long; and that the natives might not think he treated them like slaves, he not only forced the inhabitants, but also his own soldiers, to labour in carrying it on. As he set a vast number of men to work, he beyond all men’s expectations brought it to a speedy conclusion. And his neighbours who at fi rst laughed at the folly of the undertaking, no sooner saw it brought to perfection, than they were struck with admiration and terror.

The New Atlantis Part II One day there were two of our company bidden to a Feast of the Family, as they call it. A most natural, pious, and reverend custom it is, showing that nation to be compounded of all goodness. This is the manner of it. It is granted to any man that shall live to see thirty persons descended of his body, alive together, and all above three years old, to make this feast; which is done at the cost of the state. The Father of the Family, whom they call the Tirsan, two days before the feast, taketh to him three of such friends as he liketh to choose; and is assisted also by the governor of the city or place where the feast is celebrated; and all the persons of the family, of both sexes, are summoned to attend him. These two days the Tirsan sitteth in consultation concerning the good estate of the family. There, if there be any discord or suits between any of the family, they are compounded and appeased. There, if any of the family be distressed or decayed, order is taken for their relief and competent means to live. There, if any be subject to vice, or take ill courses, they are reproved and censured. So likewise direction is given touching marriages, and the courses of life which any of them should take, with divers other the like orders and advices. The governor assisteth, to the end to put in execution by his public authority the decrees and orders of the Tirsan, if they should be disobeyed; though that seldom needeth; such reverence and obedience they give to the order of nature. The Tirsan doth also then ever choose one man from amongst his sons, to live in house with him: who is called ever after the Son of the Vine. The reason will hereafter appear. On the feast day, the Father or Tirsan cometh forth after divine service into a large room where the feast is celebrated; which room hath an half-pace14 at the upper end. Against the

14 Half-pace or dais, the part raised by a low step above the rest of the fl oor—Robert Leslie Ellis Lochithea 519 wall, in the middle of the half-pace, is a chair placed for him, with a table and carpet before it. Over the chair is a state,15 made round or oval, and it is of ivy; an ivy somewhat whiter than ours, like the leaf of a silver asp, but more shining; for it is green all winter. And the state is curiously wrought with silver and silk of divers colours, broiding or binding in the ivy; and is ever of the work of some of the daughters of the family; and veiled over at the top with a fi ne net of silk and silver. But the substance of it is true ivy; whereof, after it is taken down, the friends of the family are desirous to have some leaf or sprig to keep. The Tirsan cometh forth with all his generation or lineage,16 the males before him, and the females following him; and if there be a mother from whose body the whole lineage is descended, there is a traverse placed in a loft above on the right hand of the chair, with a privy door, and a carved window of glass, leaded with gold and blue; where she sitteth, but is not seen. When the Tirsan is come forth, he sitteth down in the chair; and all the lineage place themselves against the wall, both at his back and upon the return of the half-pace, in order of their years without difference of sex; and stand upon their feet. When he is set; the room being always full of company, but well kept and without disorder; after some pause there cometh in from the lower end of the room a Taratan (which is as much as a herald) and on either side of him two young lads; whereof one carrieth a scroll of their shining yellow parchment; and the other a cluster of grapes of gold, with a long foot or stalk. The herald and children are clothed with mantles of sea-water green satin; but the herald’s mantle is streamed with gold, and hath a train. Then the herald with three curtesies, or rather inclinations, cometh up as far as the half-pace; and there fi rst taketh into his hand the scroll. This scroll is the King’s Charter, containing gift of revenew, and many privileges, exemptions, and points of honour, granted to the Father of the Family; and it is ever styled and directed, To such an one our well-beloved friend and creditor: which is a title proper only to this case. For they say the King is debtor to no man, but for propagation of his subjects. The seal set to the King’s charter is the King’s image, imbossed or moulded in gold; and though such charters be expedited of course, and as of right, yet they are varied by discretion, according to the number and dignity of the family. This charter the herald readeth aloud; and while it is read, the father or Tirsan, standeth up, supported by two of his sons, such as he chooseth. Then the herald mounteth the half-pace, and delivereth the charter into his hand: and with that there is an acclamation by all that are present in their language, which is thus much: Happy are the people of Bensalem. Then the herald taketh into his hand from the other child the cluster of grapes, which is of gold, both the stalk and the grapes. But the grapes are daintily enamelled; and if the males of the family be the greater number, the grapes are enamelled purple, with a little sun set on the top; if the females, then they are enamelled into a greenish yellow, with a crescent on the top. The grapes are in number as many as there are descendants of the family. This golden cluster the herald delivereth also to the Tirsan; who presently delivereth it over to that son that he had formerly chosen to be in house with him: who beareth it before his father as an ensign of honour when he goeth in public, ever after; and is thereupon called the Son of the Vine.

15 Canopy 16 “Linage” in the original 520 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

After this ceremony ended, the father or Tirsan retireth; and after some time cometh forth again to dinner, where he sitteth alone under the state, as before; and none of his descendants sit with him, of what degree or dignity soever, except he hap to be of Salomon’s House. He is served only by his own children, such as are male; who perform unto him all service of the table upon the knee; and the women only stand about him, leaning against the wall. The room below his half-pace hath tables on the sides for the guests that are bidden; who are served with great and comely order; and towards the end of dinner (which in the greatest feasts with them lasteth never above an hour and a half) there is an hymn sung, varied according to the invention of him that composeth it, (for they have excellent poesy,) but the subject of it is (always) the praises of Adam and Noah and Abraham; whereof the former two peopled the world, and the last was the Father of the Faithful: concluding ever with a thanksgiving for the nativity of our Saviour, in whose birth the births of all are only blessed. Dinner being done, the Tirsan retireth again; and having withdrawn himself alone into a place where he maketh some private prayers, he cometh forth the third time, to give the blessing; with all his descendants, who stand about him as at the fi rst. Then he calleth them forth by one and by one, by name, as he pleaseth, though seldom the order of age be inverted. The person that is called (the table being before removed) kneeleth down before the chair, and the father layeth his hand upon his head, or her head, and giveth the blessing in these words: Son of Bensalem, (or Daughter of Bensalem,) thy father saith it: the man by whom thou hast breath and life speaketh the word: The blessing of the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace, and the Holy Dove be upon thee, and make the days of thy pilgrimage good and many. This he saith to every of them; and that done, if there be any of his sons of eminent merit and virtue, (so they be not above two,) he calleth for them again; and saith, laying his arm over their shoulders, they standing; Sons, it is well ye are born, give God the praise, and persevere to the end. And withal delivereth to either of them a jewel, made in the fi gure of an ear of wheat, which they ever after wear in the front of their turban or hat. This done, they fall to music and dances, and other recreations, after their manner, for the rest of the day. This is the full order of that feast. By that time six or seven days were spent, I was fallen into strait acquaintance with a merchant of that city, whose name was Joabin. He was a Jew, and circumcised: for they have some few stirps of Jews yet remaining among them, whom they leave to their own religion. Which they may the better do, because they are of a far differing disposition from the Jews in other parts. For whereas they hate the name of Christ, and have a secret inbred rancour against the people amongst whom they live: these (contrariwise) give unto our Saviour many high attributes, and love the nation of Bensalem extremely. Surely this man of whom I speak would ever acknowledge that Christ was born of a Virgin, and that he was more than a man; and he would tell how God made him ruler of the Seraphims which guard his throne; and they call him also the Milken Way, and the Eliah of the Messiah; and many other high names; which though they be inferior to his divine Majesty, yet they are far from the language of other Jews. And for the country of Bensalem, this man would make no end of commending it: being desirous, by tradition among the Jews there, to have it believed that the people thereof were of the generations of Abraham, by another son, Lochithea 521 whom they call Nachoran; and that Moses by a secret cabala ordained the laws of Bensalem which they now use; and that when the Messiah should come, and sit in his throne at Hierusalem, the King of Bensalem should sit at his feet, whereas other Kings should keep a great distance. But yet setting aside these Jewish dreams, the man was a wise man, and learned, and of great policy, and excellently seen in the laws and customs of that nation. Among other discourses, one day I told him I was much affected with the relation I had from some of the company, of their custom in holding the Feast of the Family; for that (methought) I had never heard of a solemnity wherein nature did so much preside. And because propagation of families proceedeth from the nuptial copulation, I desired to know of him what laws and customs they had concerning marriage; and whether they kept marriage well; and whether they were tied to one wife? For that where population is so much affected, and such as with them it seemed to be, there is commonly permission of plurality of wives. To this he said, “You have reason for to commend that excellent institution of the Feast of the Family. And indeed we have experience, that those families that are partakers of the blessing of that feast do fl ourish and prosper ever after in an extraordinary manner. But hear me now, and I will tell you what I know. You shall understand that there is not under the heavens so chaste a nation as this of Bensalem; nor so free from all pollution or foulness. It is the virgin of the world. I remember I have read in one of your European books, of an holy hermit amongst you that desired to see the Spirit of Fornication; and there appeared to him a little foul ugly Æthiop.17 But if he had desired to see the Spirit of Chastity of Bensalem, it would have appeared to him in the likeness of a fair beautiful Cherubin. For there is nothing amongst mortal men more fair and admirable, than the chaste minds of this people. Know therefore, that with them there are no stews, no dissolute houses, no courtesans, nor anything of that kind. Nay they wonder (with detestation) at you in Europe, which permit such things. They say ye have put marriage out of offi ce: for marriage is ordained a remedy for unlawful concupiscence; and natural concupiscence seemeth as a spur to marriage. But when men have at hand a remedy more agreeable to their corrupt will, marriage is almost expulsed. And therefore there are with you seen infi - nite men that marry not, but choose rather a libertine and impure single life, than to be yoked in marriage; and many that do marry, marry late, when the prime and strength of their years is past. And when they do marry, what is marriage to them but a very bargain; wherein is sought alliance, or portion, or reputation, with some desire (almost indifferent) of issue; and not the faithful nuptial union of man and wife, that was fi rst instituted. Neither is it possible that those that have cast away so basely so much of their strength, should greatly esteem children, (being of the same matter,) as chaste men do. So likewise during marriage, is the case much amended, as it ought to be if those things were tolerated only for necessity? No, but they remain still as a very affront to marriage. The haunting of those dissolute places, or resort to courtesans, are no more punished in married men than in bachelors. And the depraved custom of change, and the delight in meretricious embracements, (where sin is turned into art,) maketh marriage a dull thing, and a kind of imposition or tax. They hear you defend these things, as done to avoid greater evils; as advoutries, defl ouring of virgins, unnatural lust, and the like. But they

17 The Klein Meister of La Motte Fouqué’s Sintram—Robert Leslie Ellis 522 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals say this is a preposterous wisdom; and they call it Lot’s offer, who to save his guests from abusing, offered his daughters: nay they say farther that there is little gained in this; for that the same vices and appetites do still remain and abound; unlawful lust being like a furnace, that if you stop the fl ames altogether, it will quench; but if you give it any vent, it will rage. As for masculine love, they have no touch of it; and yet there are not so faithful and inviolate friendships in the world again as are there; and to speak generally, (as I said before,) I have not read of any such chastity in any people as theirs. And their usual saying is, That whosoever is unchaste cannot reverence himself; and they say, That the reverence of a man’s self is, next religion, the chiefest bridle of all vices. And when he had said this, the good Jew paused a little; whereupon I, far more willing to hear him speak on than to speak myself, yet thinking it decent that upon his pause of speech I should not be altogether silent, said only this; “That I would say to him, as the widow of Sarepta said to Elias; that he was come to bring to memory our sins; and that I confess the righteousness of Bensalem was greater than the righteousness of Europe.” At which speech he bowed his head, and went on this manner: “They have also many wise and excellent laws touching marriage. They allow no polygamy. They have ordained that none do intermarry or contract, until a month be past from their fi rst interview. Marriage without consent of parents they do not make void, but they mulct it in the inheritors; for the children of such marriages are not admitted to inherit above a third part of their parents’ inheritance. I have read in a book of one of your men, of a Feigned Commonwealth, where the married couple are permitted, before they contract, to see one another naked.18 This they dislike; for they think it a scorn to give a refusal after so familiar knowledge: but because of many hidden defects in men and women’s bodies, they have a more civil way; for they have near every town a couple of pools, (which they call Adam and Eve’s pools,) where it is permitted to one of the friends of the man, and another of the friends of the woman, to see them severally bathe naked. And as we were thus in conference, there came one that seemed to be a messenger, in a rich huke, that spake with the Jew: whereupon he turned to me and said; “You will pardon me, for I am commanded away in haste.” The next morning he came to me again, joyful as it seemed, and said, “There is word come to the governor of the city, that one of the Fathers of Salomon’s House will be here this day seven-night: we have seen none of them this dozen years. His coming is in state; but the cause of this coming is secret. I will provide you and your fellows of a good standing to see his entry.” I thanked him, and told him, “I was most glad of the news.” The day being come, he made his entry. He was a man of middle stature and age, comely of person, and had an aspect as if he pitied men. He was clothed in a robe of fi ne black cloth, with wide sleeves and a cape. His under garment was of excellent white linen down to the foot, girt with a girdle of the same; and a sindon or tippet of the same about his neck. He had gloves that were curious, and set with stone; and shoes of peach-coloured velvet. His neck was bare to the shoulders. His hat was like a helmet, or Spanish Montera; and his locks curled below it decently: they were of colour brown. His beard was cut round, and of the same colour with his hair, somewhat lighter. He was carried in a rich chariot without

18 More’s Utopia, book ii Lochithea 523 wheels, litter-wise; with two horses at either end, richly trapped in blue velvet embroidered; and two footmen on each side in the like attire. The chariot was all of cedar, gilt, and adorned with crystal; save that the fore-end had pannels of sapphires, set in borders of gold, and the hinder-end the like of emeralds19 of the Peru colour. There was also a sun of gold, radiant, upon the top, in the midst; and on the top before, a small cherub of gold, with wings displayed. The chariot was covered with cloth of gold tissued upon blue. He had before him fi fty attendants, young men all, in white sattin loose coats up to the mid- leg; and stockings of white silk; and shoes of blue velvet; and hats of blue velvet; with fi ne plumes of divers colours, set round like hat-bands. Next before the chariot went two men, bare-headed, in linen garments down to the foot, girt, and shoes of blue velvet; who carried the one a crosier, the other a pastoral staff like a sheep-hook; neither of them of metal, but the crosier of balm-wood, the pastoral staff of cedar. Horsemen he had none, neither before nor behind his chariot: as it seemeth, to avoid all tumult and trouble. Behind his chariot went all the offi cers and principals of the Companies of the City. He sat alone, upon cushions of a kind of excellent plush, blue; and under his foot curious carpets of silk of divers colours, like the Persian, but far fi ner. He held up his bare hand as he went, as blessing the people, but in silence. The street was wonderfully well kept: so that there was never any army had their men stand in better battle-array, than the people stood. The windows likewise were not crowded, but every one stood in them as if they had been placed. When the shew was past, the Jew said to me; “I shall not be able to attend you as I would, in regard of some charge the city hath laid upon me, for the entertaining of this great person.” Three days after, the Jew came to me again, and said; “Ye are happy men; for the Father of Salomon’s House taketh knowledge of your being here, and commanded me to tell you that he will admit all your company to his presence, and have private conference with one of you that ye shall choose: and for this hath appointed the next day after to-morrow. And because he meaneth to give you his blessing, he hath appointed it in the forenoon.” We came at our day and hour, and I was chosen by my fellows for the private access. We found him in a fair chamber, richly hanged, and carpeted under foot, without any degrees to the state. He was set upon a low throne richly adorned, and a rich cloth of state over his head, of blue sattin embroidered. He was alone, save that he had two pages of honour, on either hand one, fi nely attired in white. His under-garments were the like that we saw him wear in the chariot; but instead of his gown, he had on him a mantle with a cape, of the same fi ne black, fastened about him. When we came in, as we were taught, we bowed low at our fi rst entrance; and when we were come near his chair, he stood up, holding forth his hand ungloved, and in posture of blessing; and we every one of us stooped down, and kissed the hem of his tippet. That done, the rest departed, and I remained. Then he warned the pages forth of the room, and caused me to sit down beside him, and spake to me thus in the Spanish tongue: “God bless thee, my son; I will give thee the greatest jewel I have. For I will impart unto thee, for the love of God and men, a relation of the true state of Salomon’s House. Son, to

19 “Emerauds” in the original 524 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals make you know the true state of Salomon’s House, I will keep this order. First, I will set forth unto you the end of our foundation. Secondly, the preparations and instruments we have for our works. Thirdly, the several employments and functions whereto our fellows are assigned. And fourthly, the ordinances and rites which we observe. “The end of our foundation is the knowledge of Causes, and secret motions of things; and the enlarging of the bounds of human empire, to the effecting of all things possible. “The preparations and instruments are these. We have large and deep caves of several depths: the deepest are sunk six hundred fathom; and some of them are digged and made under great hills and mountains: so that if you reckon together the depth of the hill and the depth of the cave, they are (some of them) above three miles deep. For we fi nd that the depth of a hill, and the depth of a cave from the fl at, is the same thing; both remote alike from the sun and heaven’s beams, and from the open air. These caves we call the Lower Region. And we use them for all coagulations, indurations, refrigerations, and conservations of bodies. We use them likewise for the imitation of natural mines; and the producing also of new artifi cial metals, by compositions and materials which we use, and lay there for many years. We use them also sometimes, (which may seem strange,) for curing of some diseases, and for prolongation of life in some hermits that choose to live there, well accommodated of all things necessary; and indeed live very long; by whom also we learn many things. “We have burials in several earths, where we put divers cements, as the Chineses do their porcelain. But we have them in greater variety, and some of them more fi ne. We also have great variety of composts, and soils, for the making of the earth fruitful. “We have high towers; the highest about half a mile in height; and some of them likewise set upon high mountains; so that the vantage of the hill with the tower is in the highest of them three miles at least. And these places we call the Upper Region: accounting the air between the high places and the low, as a Middle Region. We use these towers, according to their several heights and situations, for insulation, refrigeration, conservation; and for the view of divers meteors; as winds, rain, snow, hail; and some of the fi ery meteors also. And upon them, in some places, are dwellings of hermits, whom we visit sometimes, and instruct what to observe. “We have great lakes both salt and fresh, whereof we have use for the fi sh and fowl. We use them also for burials of some natural bodies: for we fi nd a difference in things buried in earth or in air below the earth, and things buried in water. We have also pools, of which some do strain fresh water out of salt; and others by art do turn fresh water into salt. We have also some rocks in the midst of the sea, and some bays upon the shore, for some works wherein is required the air and vapour of the sea. We have likewise violent streams and cataracts, which serve us for many motions; and likewise engines for multiplying and enforcing of winds, to set also on going divers motions. Lochithea 525

“We have also a number of artifi cial wells and fountains, made in imitation of the natural sources and baths; as tincted upon vitriol, sulphur, steel, brass, lead, nitre, and other minerals. And again we have little wells for infusions of many things, where the waters take the virtue quicker and better than in vessels or basins. And amongst them we have a water which we call Water of Paradise, being, by that we do to it, made very sovereign for health, and prolongation of life. “We have also great and spacious houses, where we imitate and demonstrate meteors; as snow, hail, rain, some artifi cial rains of bodies and not of water, thunders, lightnings; also generations of bodies in air; as frogs, fl ies, and divers others. “We have also certain chambers, which we call Chambers of Health, where we qualify the air as we think good and proper for the cure of divers diseases, and preservation of health.20 “We have also fair and large baths, of several mixtures, for the cure of diseases, and the restoring of man’s body from arefaction: and others for the confi rming of it in strength of sinews, vital parts, and the very juice and substance of the body. “We have also large and various orchards and gardens, wherein we do not so much respect beauty, as variety of ground and soil, proper for divers trees and herbs: and some very spacious, where trees and berries are set whereof we make divers kinds of drinks, beside the vineyards. In these we practise likewise all conclusions of grafting and inoculating, as well of wild-trees as fruit-trees, which produceth many effects. And we make (by art) in the same orchards and gardens, trees and fl owers to come earlier or later than their seasons; and to come up and bear more speedily than by their natural course they do. We make them also by art greater much than their nature; and their fruit greater and sweeter and of differing taste, smell, colour, and fi gure, from their nature. And many of them we so order, as they become of medicinal use. “We have also means to make divers plants rise by mixtures of earths without seeds; and likewise to make divers new plants, differing from the vulgar; and to make one tree or plant turn into another.21 “We have also parks and inclosures of all sorts of beasts and birds, which we use not only for view or rareness, but likewise for dissections and trials; that thereby may take light what may be wrought upon the body of man. Wherein we fi nd many strange effects; as continuing life in them, though divers parts, which you account vital, be perished and taken forth; resuscitating of some that seem dead in appearance; and the like. We try also all poisons and other medicines upon them, as well of chirurgery as physic. By art likewise, we make them greater or smaller than their kind is; and contrariwise dwarf them, and stay their growth; we make them more fruitful and bearing than their kind is; and contrariwise barren and not generative. Also we make them differ in colour, shape, activity, many ways. We fi nd means to make commixtures and copulations of divers kinds; which have produced many new kinds, and them not barren, as the general

20 This experiment has been tried, especially by Dr. Beddoes of Clifton, but without any marked result—Robert Leslie Ellis 21 See the Voynich Manuscript item MS408 in the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library of Yale University 526 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals opinion is. We make a number of kinds of serpents, worms, fl ies, fi shes of putrefaction; whereof some are advanced (in effect) to be perfect creatures, like beasts or birds; and have sexes, and do propagate. Neither do we this by chance, but we know beforehand of what matter and commixture what kind of those creatures will arise.22 “We have also particular pools, where we make trials upon fi shes, as we have said before of beasts and birds. “We have also places for breed and generation of those kinds of worms and fl ies which are of special use; such as are with you your silk-worms and bees. “I will not hold you long with recounting of our brew-houses, bake-houses, and kitchens, where are made divers drinks, breads, and meats, rare and of special effects. Wines we have of grapes; and drinks of other juice of fruits, of grains, and of roots: and of mixtures with honey, sugar, manna, and fruits dried and decocted. Also of the tears or wounding of trees, and of the pulp of canes. And these drinks are of several ages, some to the age or last of forty years. We have drinks also brewed with several herbs, and roots, and spices; yea with several fl eshes, and white meats; whereof some of the drinks are such, as they are in effect meat and drink both:23 so that divers, especially in age, do desire to live with them, with little or no meat or bread. And above all, we strive to have drinks of extreme thin parts, to insinuate into the body, and yet without all biting, sharpness, or fretting; insomuch as some of them put upon the back of your hand will, with a little stay, pass through to the palm, and yet taste mild to the mouth. We have also waters which we ripen in that fashion, as they become nourishing; so that they are indeed excellent drink; and many will use no other. Breads we have of several grains, roots, and kernels: yea and some of fl esh and fi sh dried; with divers kinds of leavenings and seasonings; so that some do extremely move appetites; some do nourish so, as divers do live of them, without any other meat; who live very long. So for meats, we have some of them so beaten and made tender and mortifi ed, yet without all corrupting, as a weak heat of the stomach will turn them into good chylus, as well as a strong heat would meat otherwise prepared. We have some meats also and breads and drinks, which taken by men enable them to fast long after; and some other, that used make the very fl esh of men’s bodies sensibly more hard and tough, and their strength far greater than otherwise it would be. “We have dispensatories, or shops of medicines. Wherein you may easily think, if we have such variety of plants and living creatures more than you have in Europe, (for we know what you have,) the simples, drugs, and ingredients of medicines, must likewise be in so much the greater variety. We have them likewise of divers ages, and long fermentations. And for their preparations, we have not only all manner of exquisite distillations and

22 This passage is quoted with great approbation by Geoffroi St. Hilaire at the end of a memoir on the results of artifi cial incubation read before the Academy of Sciences in 1826, and published in the Annales du Museum for that year. It may be said that he was the fi rst by whom the scientifi c importance of monstrosities was fully appreciated, and in answer to the objections which were made to the study of Teratology on the ground of its inutility, he invokes the authority of Bacon—Robert Leslie Ellis 23 Chocolate, which however was well known in Bacon’s time, seems to fulfi l this description— Robert Leslie Ellis Lochithea 527

separations, and especially by gentle heats and percolations through divers strainers, yea and substances; but also exact forms of composition, whereby they incorporate almost, as they were natural simples. “We have also divers mechanical arts, which you have not; and stuffs made by them; as papers, linen, silks, tissues; dainty works of feathers of wonderful lustre; excellent dyes, and many others; and shops likewise, as well for such as are not brought into vulgar use amongst us as for those that are. For you must know that of the things before recited, many of them are grown into use throughout the Kingdom; but yet if they did fl ow from our invention, we have of them also for patterns and principals. “We have also furnaces of great diversities, and that keep great diversity of heats; fi erce and quick; strong and constant; soft and mild; blown, quiet; dry, moist; and the like. But above all, we have heats in imitation of the sun’s and heavenly bodies’ heats, that pass divers inequalities and (as it were) orbs, progresses, and returns, whereby we produce admirable effects. Besides, we have heats of dungs, and of bellies and maws of living creatures, and of their bloods and bodies; and of hays and herbs laid up moist; of lime unquenched; and such like. Instruments also which generate heat only by motion. And farther, places for strong insolations; and again, places under the earth, which by nature or art yield heat. These divers heats we use, as the nature of the operation which we intend requireth. “We have also perspective-houses, where we make demonstrations of all lights and radiations; and of all colours; and out of things uncoloured and transparent, we can represent unto you all several colours; not in rain-bows, as it is in gems and prisms, but of themselves single. We represent also all multiplications of light, which we carry to great distance, and make so sharp as to discern small points and lines; also all colorations of light: all delusions and deceits of the sight, in fi gures, magnitudes, motions, colours: all demonstrations of shadows. We fi nd also divers means, yet unknown to you, of producing of light originally from divers bodies. We procure means of seeing objects afar off; as in the heaven and remote places; and represent things near as afar off, and things afar off as near; making feigned distances. We have also helps for the sight, far above spectacles and glasses in use. We have also glasses and means to see small and minute bodies perfectly and distinctly; as the shapes and colours of small fl ies and worms, grains and fl aws in gems, which cannot otherwise be seen; observations in urine and blood, not otherwise to be seen. We make artifi cial rain-bows, halos, and circles about light. We represent also all manner of refl exions, refractions, and multiplications of visual beams of objects. “We have also precious stones of all kinds, many of them of great beauty, and to you unknown; crystals likewise; and glasses of divers kinds; and amongst them some of metals vitrifi cated, and other materials besides those of which you make glass. Also a number of fossils, and imperfect minerals, which you have not. Likewise loadstones of prodigious virtue; and other rare stones, both natural and artifi cial. “We have also sound-houses, where we practise and demonstrate all sounds, and their generation. We have harmonies which you have not, of quarter-sounds, and lesser slides of sounds. Divers instruments of music likewise to you unknown, some sweeter than any you 528 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals have; together with bells and rings that are dainty and sweet. We represent small sounds as great and deep; likewise great sounds extenuate and sharp; we make divers tremblings and warblings of sounds, which in their original are entire. We represent and imitate all articulate sounds and letters, and the voices and notes of beasts and birds. We have certain helps which set to the ear do further the hearing greatly. We have also divers strange and artifi cial echoes, refl ecting the voice many times, and, as it were tossing it: and some that give back the voice louder than it came; some shriller, and some deeper; yea, some rendering the voice differing in the letters or articulate sound from that they receive. We have all means to convey sounds in trunks and pipes, in strange lines and distances. “We have also perfume-houses; wherewith we join also practices of taste. We multiply smells, which may seem strange. We imitate smells, making all smells to breathe out of other mixtures than those that give them. We make divers imitations of taste likewise, so that they will deceive any man’s taste. And in this house we contain also a confi ture-house; where we make all sweet-meats, dry and moist, and divers pleasant wines, milks, broths, and sallets, in far greater variety than you have. “We have also engine-houses, where are prepared engines and instruments for all sorts of motions. There we imitate and practise to make swifter motions than any you have, either out of your muskets or any engine that you have; and to make them and multiply them more easily and with small force, by wheels and other means: and to make them stronger, and more violent than yours are; exceeding your greatest cannons and basilisks. We represent also ordnance and instruments of war, and engines of all kinds: and likewise new mixtures and compositions of gun-powder, wildfi res burning in water, and unquenchable. Also fi re-works of all variety both for pleasure and use. We imitate also fl ights of birds; we have some degrees of fl ying in the air; we have ships and boats for going under water,24 and brooking of seas; also swimming-girdles and supporters. We have divers curious clocks, and other like motions of return, and some perpetual motions. We imitate also motions of living creatures, by images of men, beasts, birds, fi shes, and serpents. We have also a great number of other various motions, strange for equality, fi neness, and subtilty. “We have also a mathematical house, where are represented all instruments, as well of geometry as astronomy, exquisitely made. “We have also houses of deceits of the senses; where we represent all manner of feats of juggling, false apparitions, impostures, and illusions; and their fallacies. And surely you will easily believe that we that have so many things truly natural which induce admiration, could in a world of particulars deceive the senses, if we would disguise those things and labour to make them more miraculous. But we do hate all impostures and lies: insomuch as we have severely forbidden it to all our fellows, under pain of ignominy and fi nes, that they do not shew any natural work or thing, adorned or swelling; but only pure as it is, and without all affectation of strangeness. “These are (my son) the riches of Salomon’s House.

24 A boat for going under water was one of Drebbel’s inventions exhibited in 1620. Bacon in the De Augmentis refers to another namely, Drebbel’s method of producing cold—Robert Leslie Ellis Lochithea 529

“For the several employments and ofﬁ ces of our fellows; we have twelve that sail into foreign countries, under the names of other nations, (for our own we conceal,) who bring us the books, and abstracts, and patterns of experiments of all other parts. These we call Merchants of Light. “We have three that collect the experiments which are in all books. These we call Depredators. “We have three that collect the experiments of all mechanical arts; and also of liberal sciences; and also of practices which are not brought into arts. These we call Mystery-men.25 “We have three that try new experiments, such as themselves think good. These we call Pioners or Miners. “We have three that draw the experiments of the former four into titles and tables, to give the better light for the drawing of observations and axioms out of them. These we call Compilers.26 “We have three that bend themselves, looking into the experiments of their fellows, and cast about how to draw out of them things of use and practice for man’s life, and knowledge as well for works as for plain demonstration of causes, means of natural divinations, and the easy and clear discovery of the virtues and parts of bodies. These we call Dowry-men or Benefactors. “Then after divers meetings and consults of our whole number, to consider of the former labours and collections, we have three that take care, out of them, to direct new experiments, of a higher light, more penetrating into nature than the former. These we call Lamps. “We have three others that do execute the experiments so directed, and report them. These we call Inoculators. “Lastly, we have three that raise the former discoveries by experiments into greater observations, axioms, and aphorisms. These we call Interpreters of Nature. “We have also, as you must think, novices and apprentices, that the succession of the former employed men do not fail; besides a great number of servants and attendants, men and women. And this we do also: we have consultations, which of the inventions and experiences which we have discovered shall be published, and which not: and take all an oath of secrecy, for the concealing of those which we think ﬁ t to keep secret: though some of those we do reveal sometime to the state, and some not. “For our ordinances and rites: we have two very long and fair galleries: in one of these we place patterns and samples of all manner of the more rare and excellent inventions: in the other we place the statua’s of all principal inventors. There we have the statua of your Columbus, that discovered the West Indies: also the inventor of ships: your monk that was

25 In the translation they are called Venatores, hunters; a name, however, which does not seem to distinguish their peculiar ofﬁ ce so accurately as “mystery-men,” that is, men whose business was to inquire after mysteries, i.e. crafts—James Spedding 26 For compiler, the translation has divisors, distributors—James Spedding 530 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals the inventor of ordnance and of gunpowder: the inventor of music: the inventor of letters: the inventor of printing: the inventor of observations of astronomy: the inventor of works in metal: the inventor of glass: the inventor of silk of the worm: the inventor of wine: the inventor of corn and bread: the inventor of sugars: and all these by more certain tradition than you have. Then have we divers inventors of our own, of excellent works; which since you have not seen, it were too long to make descriptions of them; and besides, in the right understanding of those descriptions you might easily err. For upon every invention of value, we erect a statua to the inventor, and give him a liberal and honourable reward. These statua’s are some of brass; some of marble and touch-stone; some of cedar and other special woods gilt and adorned: some of iron; some of silver; some of gold. “We have certain hymns and services, which we say daily, of laud and thanks to God for his marvellous works: and forms of prayers, imploring his aid and blessing for the illumination of our labours, and the turning of them into good and holy uses. “Lastly, we have circuits or visits of divers principal cities of the kingdom; where, as it cometh to pass, we do publish such new proﬁ table inventions as we think good. And we do also declare natural divinations of diseases, plagues, swarms of hurtful creatures, scarcity, tempest, earthquakes, great inundations, comets, temperature of the year, and divers other things; and we give counsel thereupon what the people shall do for the prevention and remedy of them.” And when he had said this, he stood up; and I, as I had been taught, knelt down; and he laid his right hand upon my head, and said; “God bless thee, my son, and God bless this relation which I have made. I give thee leave to publish it for the good of other nations; for we here are in God’s bosom, a land unknown.” And so he left me; having assigned a value of about two thousand ducats, for a bounty to me and my fellows. For they give great largesses, where they come upon all occasions. The Rest Was Not Perfected27

27 Extract from Isaac Disraeli’s Curiosities of Literature, vol ii: “Like the Royal Society, its origin has been attributed to political motives, with a view to divert the attention from popular discontents; were the origin of the Royal Society inquired into, it might be justly dated a century before its existence; the real founder was Lord Bacon, who planned the ideal institution in his philosophical romance of the New Atlantis! This notion is not fanciful, and it was that of its fi rst founders, as not only appears by the expression of old Aubrey, when, alluding to the commencement of the society, he adds secundum mentem Domini Baconi; but by a rare print designed by Evelyn, probably for a frontispiece to Bishop Sprat’s history, although we seldom fi nd the print in the volume. The design is precious to a Grangerite, exhibiting three fi ne portraits. On one side is represented a library, and on the table lie the statutes, the journals, and the mace of the Royal Society; on its opposite side are suspended numerous philosophical instruments; in the centre of the print is a column on which is placed the bust of Charles the Second, the patron; on each side whole lengths of Lord Brouncker, the fi rst president, and Lord Bacon, as the founder, inscribed Artium Instaurator. Bacon’s vision of a philosophical society appears to have occupied reveries; it charmed the fancy of Cowley and Milton; but the politics and religion of the times were still possessed by the same frenzy, and divinity and politics were unanimously agreed to be utterly proscribed from their inquiries.” Lochithea 531

Magnalia Naturæ Præcipue Quoad Usus Humanos28 The prolongation of life The restitution of youth in some degree The retardation of age The curing of diseases counted incurable The mitigation of pain More easy and less loathsome purgings The increasing of strength and activity The increasing of ability to suffer torture or pain The altering of complexions, and fatness and leanness The altering of statures The altering of features The increasing and exalting of the intellectual parts Versions of bodies into other bodies Making of new species Transplanting of one species into another Instruments of destruction, as of war and poison Exhilaration of the spirits, and putting them in good disposition Force of the imagination, either upon another body, or upon the body itself Acceleration of time in maturations Acceleration of time in clariﬁ cations Acceleration of decoction Acceleration of germination Making rich composts for the earth Impressions of the air, and raising of tempests Great alteration; as in induration, emollition, &c., Turning crude and watry substances into oily and unctuous substances Drawing of new foods out of substances not now in use Making new threads for apparel; and new stuffs; such as paper, glass, &c., Natural divinations Deceptions of the senses Greater pleasures of the senses Artiﬁ cial minerals and cements

The immediate signs which preceded death are, great restlessness and tossing of the body, fumbling of the hands, hard clutching and grasping, teeth ﬁ rmly set, a hollow voice, trembling of the lower lip, pallor of the face, a confused memory, loss of speech, cold sweats, elongation of the body, raising up the white of the eyes, alteration of the whole countenance (as the nose becoming sharp, the eyes hollow, and the cheeks sinking in),

28 This short manuscript follows The New Atlantis in the original 532 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

contraction and rolling of the tongue, coldness of the extremities, in some a discharge of blood or seed, a shrill cry, thick breathing, falling of the lower jaw, and the like.29 London’s swans give way to lament chimes;30 Lord Bacon dies at Highgate at the age of sixty-fi ve. On a black Monday,31 James Howell, a Clerk of the Privy Council to Charles I., writes to Dr. Prichard:32 “Sir. My Lord Chancellor Bacon is lately dead of a languishing weakness; he died poor, that he scarce left money to bury him, which, though he had a great wit, did argue no great wisdom, it being one of the essential properties of a wise man to provide for the main chance. I have read that it hath been the fortune of all poets commonly to die beggars, but for an Orator, a Lawyer, and Philosopher, as he was, to die so, is rare. It seems the same fate befell him that attended Demosthenes, Seneca, and Cicero, all great men, of whom the two fi rst fell by corruption. The fairest diamond may have a fl aw in it, but I believe he died poor out of contempt of the self of fortune, as also out of an excess of generosity, which appeared as in divers other passages. So once when the King had sent him a stag, he sent up for the underkeeper, and having drunk the King’s health unto him in a great silver bowl, he gave it him for his fee. He wrote a pitiful letter to King James not long before his death and concludes: “Help me, dear Sovereign, Lord and master, and pity me so far that I, who have been born to a bag, be not now in my age forced in effect to bear a wallet, nor that I, who desire to live to study, may be driven to study to live.” Which words, in my opinion argueth a little abjection of spirit. I write not this to derogate from the noble worth of the Lord Viscount Verulam, who was so rare a man; and I think the eloquentist that was born in this Isle. I was late at Gray’s Inn with Sire Eubule, and he desired me to remember him unto you.”

The Honest Ghost33 Now Verulam, good man, is in his grave. I muse who shall his house and titles have; That spatious, spacious, precious refectorie Which cost a world of wealth so saith the story; Those pebble paved brookes, empales lakes, Thick clad with countless sholes of ducks and drakes.

James Spedding “Rawley says nothing of the works published by Isaac Gruter, ﬁ ve years previously 1653; and this is very singular. That they were the genuine productions of

29 Francis Bacon: History of Life and Death, History 30 30 Douce’s illustrations: “That a swan utters musical sounds at the approach of death is credited among the ancients by Plato, Chrysippus, Aristotle, Euripides, Philostratus, Cicero, Seneca, and Martial; moderns treat this as a vulgar error.” 31 Stowe: “In 1360, Edward III., with his host, lay before the City of Paris, which day was full dark of mist and hail, and so bitter cold that many men died on their horse’s backs with the cold.” 32 See A. Chambers Bunten: Sir Thomas Meautys Secretary to Lord Bacon, 1918 33 A quotation from a comic brochure published in 1658 Lochithea 533

Bacon cannot be doubted. This is Gruter’s own account of the matter: “The papers in this volume relating to natural philosophy, and philosophy in general, were copied by myself from the MSS of the author, which he had accurately corrected and retouched in various places. The title of the work, which applies to all its contents, which are divided into different subjects, is from the pen of Lord Verulam himself: but the headings of the different pages are mine, and will serve as a kind of index to the reader. The contents, from p. 285 to the end, I have entitled Impetus Philosophici; a name which I had noted down in my conversations with this eminent writer when he communicated with me about these papers; for this was his usual name for such of his writings, that his readers might not deem that to be unﬁ nished, which, when the writer’s appetite was over impetus defervescente wanted the train of a prolix treatise.” Bacon, as we learn from his letters, was in the habit of writing, at a start, his thoughts upon various subjects; but never feeling a second inclination to complete them, he rather left them as they were than tacked on a tail to them, which added nothing to their real perfection.34 Gruter then proceeds to say that he was indebted for these papers to Sir W. Boswell, Bacon’s literary executor; “with others of a political and ethical kind, which are now in my possession, the gift of this late maneted gentleman, tou makaritou, [the deceased] which I intend shall soon see the light.” And again he says, “He intends to publish other writings of Lord Bacon, translated into Latin, and for the most part hitherto unpublished. Though he was a great reader of books, yet he had not his knowledge from books,35 but from some grounds and notions from within himself; which, notwithstanding, he vented with great caution and circumspection.”

William Rawley, D.D36 “I have translated Gruter’s crabbed and inverted Latinity as closely as was consistent with any tolerable sense, because of its importance, Sir John Constable and Mr. Bosvile, were left literary executors by Lord Bacon, with a special request that copies for all his writing should be deposited in certain public libraries. His letters were bequeathed to the Bishop of Lincoln (Williams), but his executors, Constable and Bosvile, were empowered “presently after his decease, to take into their hands all his papers whatsoever, which are either in cabinets, boxes, or presses, and them to seal up until they may at their leisure peruse them.”

34 Among Bacon’s papers a notebook has survived, the Commentarius Solutus [Loose Commentary] which is revealing. It is a jotting pad “like a Marchant’s waste booke where to enter all maner of remembrance of matter, fourme, business, study, towching my self, service, others, eyther sparsim or in schedules, without any maner of restraint.” This book reveals Bacon reminding himself to ﬂ atter a possible patron, to study the weaknesses of a rival, to set intelligent noblemen in the Tower of London to work on serviceable experiments. It displays the multiplicity of his concerns: his income and debts, the King’s business, his own garden and plans for building, philosophical speculations, his health, including his symptoms and medications, and an admonition to learn to control his breathing and not to interrupt in conversation—Encyclopædia Britannica 35 Spedding: Works, 1861; vol i, p. 47: “i.e. not from books only: ex libris tamen solis scientiam suam deprompsisse haudquaquam concedere licet.” [Misinterpreted by modern biographers] 36 From The Life of Lord Bacon with notes, 1657 534 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

John Aubrey “Mr. Hobbes told me that the cause of his Lordship’s death was trying an experiment; viz, as he was taking the air in a coach with Dr. Witherborne towards Highgate, snow lay on the ground, and it came to my Lord’s thoughts, why ﬂ esh might not be preserved in snow, as in salt. They were resolved they would try the experiment presently. They alighted out of the coach and went into a poor woman’s house, and bought a hen, and made the woman exenterate it, and then stuffed the body with snow, and my Lord did help to do it himself. The snow so chilled him that he immediately fell so extremely ill that he could not return to his lodging, but went to the Earl of Arundel’s house at Highgate where they put him into a damp bed37 that had not been lain-in about a year before, which gave him such a cold that in two or three days he died of suffocation.”38

Baconiana, Roderick Eagle “At the age of 66 he had already far exceeded the average span of life in those days, and he had always been of a delicate constitution. The fact that he reached that age is quite surprising. All the writers of the Manes Verulamiani (a book of eulogies to Francis Bacon) had been informed of Bacon’s death in 1626. Were they the victims of a lie? We have no records of the deaths and funerals of many famous men of the period who died at the height of their renown and power. Why then, should we expect an exception to be made in Bacon’s case? That Bacon was buried, in accordance with his own wish, in St. Michael’s Church is well attested by the desecration of his skull by Dr. King of St. Albans, when the remains were exposed at the funeral of Sir Thomas Meautys (Bacon’s secretary). The incident is recorded in The History of King Charles by H. L. Esquire in 1656 and also in Fuller’s Worthies, 1662. The occurrence is well authenticated, and provides sufﬁ cient proof that Bacon was buried in St. Michael’s Church, and that Sir Thomas Meautys lies in an adjoining grave. Presumably Dr. King was the physician who had attended Meautys who died in 1649. Dr. King was one of the Governors of St. Albans School, and he was also a Justice of the Peace. This October 1681, it rang over all of St. Albans that Sir Harbottle Grimston, Master of the Rolles, had removed the cofﬁ n of this most renowned Lord Chancellor to make room for his own to lie in the vault there at St. Michael’s Church.39

37 Spedding: Works, vol. x; p. 248 from Francis Bacon’s History of Dense and Rare; No. 13 “Linen in houses (where there is no fi re) collects damp, so as to steam on being placed near the fi re.” 38 Spedding: Life, vol. ii, 1878: “It appears that the malady which so rapidly brought Bacon to the grave was an infl ammation of the air-cells of the lungs, now called bronchitis. This disease (the pathology of which was then not understood) most commonly occasions the death of old persons. In cases of this sort the proximate cause of death is, that the blood ceases to be either decarbonised or oxygenated, owing to the air-cells being, as it were, plastered over with a mucus, secreted by the membrane lining them, and which the debilitated patient is incapable to expectorate.”—Character of Lord Bacon, His life and Works, by Thomas Martin, Barrister-at law. London, 1835 39 John Aubrey: Brief Lives Lochithea 535

April 20, 1626 Alice Barnham40 marries John Underhill at St. Martin-in-the-Fields though it was traditional and indecent for a widow to marry with a year of their husband’s death, “because in that time the husband’s body may be presumed to be rotten.”

Thomas Meautys to Lady Jane Bacon “My lo: St. Alban is dead and buried.”

June 14, 1626 Meautys becomes an admitted member of Gray’s Inn and lodges in Lord Bacon’s chambers.41

1627 William Rawley publishes Francis Bacon’s Sylva Sylvarum, with an address:42

To The Reader. Having had the honour to be continually with my Lord in compiling of this work, and to be employed therein, I have thought it not amiss, with his Lordship’s good leave and liking, for the better satisfaction of these that shall read it, to make known somewhat of his Lordship’s intentions touching the ordering and publishing of the same. I have heard his Lordship often say, that if he should have served the glory of his own name, he had been better not to have published this Natural History: for it may seem an indigested heap of particulars, and cannot have that lustre, which books cast into methods have; but that he resolved to prefer the good of men, and that which might best secure it, before anything that might have relation to himself. And he knew well that there was no other way open to

40 “Less than two weeks after Bacon’s death from pneumonia on 9 April 1626 Alice Barnham Bacon married Mr. John Underhill, at the Church of St. Martin’s in the Fields, London. Soon after, 12 July 1626 Charles I., of England knighted him at Oatlands; they lived together at Gorhambury Hertfordshire. The Viscountess St. Albans, as she preferred to still be called, spent much of her marriage in Chancery proceedings, lawsuits over property. The fi rst year was over her former husband’s estate, trying to get what was left of Bacon’s property, without his much greater debts. She was opposed in this by Sir John Constable, her brother in law, who had held some of the estate in trust. In 1628 she fi led suits for property owned by her late father. In 1631, she and her husband both fi led suit against Nicholas Bacon, of Grays Inn, their former friend, who had married Sir John Underhill’s niece, and gotten Underhill to sign an agreement for a large dowry and extensive property, including some property of Alice that Sir John did not have rights to, and could only inherit after her death. Their petition to Court stated that Bacon had tricked Underhill “who was an almost totally deaf man, and by reason of the weakness of his eyes and the infi rmity in his head, could not read writings of that nature without much pain,” to sign a paper not knowing what it contained. In 1639, Viscountess St. Albans and Sir John Underhill became estranged, and began to live separately. In a later lawsuit, after her death, Underhill blamed Robert Tyrrell, or Turrell, their manservant, for this alienation of affections. In her will of 1642, she left half her property to Turrell, and other property to her nephew, Stephen Soames. She was buried in the old Parish Church of Eyworth Bedfordshire 9 July 1650 near her mother, and her sister, Lady Dorothy Constable.”—Wikimedia Org 41 See A. Chambers Bunten: Sir Thomas Meautys, Secretary to Lord Bacon, and his friends, 1918 42 Spedding: Works vol. iv, 1862 536 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals unloose men’s minds, being bound and, as it were, malefi ciate, by the charms of deceiving notions and theories, and thereby made impotent for generation of works, but only nowhere to depart from the sense, and clear experience; but to keep close to it, especially in the beginning: besides, the Natural History was a debt of his, being designed and set down for a third part of the Instauration. I have also heard his Lordship discourse that men, no doubt, will think many of the experiments contained in this collection to be vulgar and trivial, mean and sordid, curious and fruitless: and therefore, he wisheth that they would have perpetually before their eyes what is now in doing, and the difference between this Natural History and others. For those natural histories, which are extant, being gathered for delight and use, are full of pleasant descriptions and pictures, and affect and seek after admiration, rarities, and secrets. But, contrariwise, the scope which his Lordship intendeth, is to write such a Natural History as may be fundamental to the erecting and building of a true philosophy; for the illumination of the understanding, the extracting of axioms, and the producing of many noble works and effects. For he hopeth by this means to acquit himself of that for which he taketh himself in a sort bound, and that is, the advancement of all learning and sciences. For, having in this present work collected the materials for the building, and in his Novum Organum, of which his Lordship is yet to publish a second part, set down the instruments and directions for the work; men shall now be wanting to themselves, if they raise not knowledge to that perfection whereof the nature of mortal men is capable. And in this behalf, I have heard his Lordship speak complainingly, that his Lordship, who thinketh he deserveth to be an architect in this building, should be forced to be a workman, and a labourer, and to dig the clay and burn the brick; and more than that, according to the hard condition of the Israelites at the latter end, to gather the straw and stubble over all the fi elds to burn the bricks withal. For he knoweth, that except he do it, nothing will be done: men are so set to despise the means of their own good. And as for the baseness of many of the experiments; as long as they be God’s works, they are honourable enough. And for the vulgarness of them, true axioms must be drawn from plain experience and not from doubtful; and his Lordship’s course is to make wonders plain, and not plain things wonders; and that experience likewise must be broken and grinded, and not whole, or as it groweth. And for use; his Lordship hath often in his mouth the two kinds of experiments experimenta fructifera and experimenta lucifera: experiments of Use, and experiments of Light: and he reporteth himself, whether he were not a strange man, that should think that light hath no use, because it hath no matter. Further, his Lordship thought good also to add unto many of the experiments themselves some gloss of the causes: that in the succeeding work of interpreting nature, and framing axioms, all things may be in more readiness. And for the causes herein by him assigned; his Lordship persuadeth himself, they are far more certain than those that are rendered by others; not for any excellency of his own with, as his Lordship is wont to say, but in respect of his continual conversation with nature and experience. He did consider likewise, that by this addition of causes, men’s minds, which make so much haste to fi nd out the causes of things, would not think themselves utterly lost in a vast wood of experience, but stay upon these causes, such as they are, a little, till true axioms may be more fully discovered. I have heard his Lordship say also, that one great reason why he would not put these particulars Lochithea 537 into any exact method, though he that looketh attentively into them shall fi nd that they have a secret order, was because he conceived that other men would now think that they could do the like, and so go on with a further collection; which, if the method had been exact, many would have despaired to attain by imitation. As for his Lordship’s love of order, I can refer any man to his Lordship’s Latin book, De Augmentis Scientiarum; which, if my judgment be anything, is written in the exactest order that I know any writing to be. I will conclude with an usual speech of his Lordship’s; that this work of his Natural History is the world as God made it, and not as men have made it; for that it hath nothing of imagination. W. Rawley. Postscript: This epistle is the same that should have been prefi xed to this book if his Lordship had lived.

1628 “There was a younger brother of mean fortunes,” says Henry Wotton, “born in the county of Suffok, by name John Felton, by nature of a deep melancholy, silent, and gloomy constitution, but bred in the active way of a soldier; and thereby raised to the place of Lieutenant to a foot-company in the regiment of Sir James Ramsey. This was the man that closely within himself had conceived the Duke’s death. But what may have been the immediate or greatest motive of that felonious conception, is even yet in the clouds.

It was said at ﬁ rst, that he had been stung with a denial of his captain’s place, who died in England; whereof thus much indeed is true, that the Duke, before he would invest him in the said place, advising ﬁ rst (as his manner was) with his Colonel, he found him to interpose for one Powell his own lieutenant, a gentleman of extraordinary valour; and according to military custom the place was good that the lieutenant of the Colonel’s company might well pretend to the next vacant Captainship under the same Regiment: which Felton acknowledged to be in itself very usual and equitable, besides the special merit of the person: so as the aforesaid conceit of some rancour harboured upon this denial had no true ground.

There was another imagination, that between a knight of the same county (whom the Duke had lately taken inio some good degree of favour) and the said Felton, there had been ancient quarrels not yet well healed, which might perhaps lie festering in his breast, and by a certain inﬂ ammation produce this effect. But that carries small probability, that Felton would so deface his own act, as to make the Duke no more than an oblique sacriﬁ ce to the fumes of his private revenge upon a third person.

Therefore the truth is, that either to honest a deed after it was done, or to slumber his conscience in the doing, he studied other incentives, alledging not three hours before his execution to Sir Richard Gresham [Greham] two only inducements thereof. The ﬁ rst as he made it in order, was a certain libelous Book written by one Eggleston a Scotish physician, which made the Duke one of the foulest monsters upon earth; and, indeed, unworthy not only of life in a Christian Court, and under so vertuous a King, but of any room within the bounds of all humanity, if his prodigious predictions had the least resemblance of truth. 538 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

The second, was the Remonstrance itself of the Lower House of Parliament against him, which perchance he thought the fairest cover, so he put in the second place.

Whatsoever were the true motive, which I think none can determine but the Prince of darkness itself, he did thus prosecute the effect.

In a by-Cutler’s shop of Tower-hill he bought a tenpenny knife (so cheap was the instrument of this great attempt,) and the sheath thereof be sewed to the lining of his pocket, that he might at any moment draw forth the blade alone with one hand, for he had maimed the other. This done, he made shift, partly as it is said on horseback and partly on foot, to get to Portsmouth, for he was indulgent and low in money, which perhaps might have a little edged his desperation.

At Portsmouth, on Saturday being the 28 of August of that current year, he pressed without any suspicion in such a time of so many pretenders to employment, into an inward Chamber, where the Duke was at breakfast (the last of his repasts in this world) accompanied with men of quality and action, with Monsieur de Soubes, and Sir Thordas Fryer: and there, a little before the Duke’s rising from the table, he went and stood expecting till he should passe through a kind of lobby between that room and the next, where were divers attending him. Towards which passage, as I conceive somewhat darker than the Chamber which he voided, while the Duke came with Sir Thomas Fryer close at his ear, in the very moment as the said Knight withdrew himself from the Duke, this assassinate gave him with a back blow a deep wound into his left side, leaving the knife in his body; which the Duke himself pulling out, on a sudden effusion of spirits, he sunk down under the table in the next room and immediately expired.

Certain it is, that some good while before, Sir Clement Throckmorton, a gentleman then living, of grave judgement, had in a private conference advised him to wear a privicscoat, whose counsel the Duke received very kindly; but gave him this answer, that against any popular fury, a shirt of mail would be but a silly defence; and as for any single man’s assault, he took himself to be in no danger. So dark is destiny.

One thing in this enormous accident is, I must confess to me beyond all wonder, as I received it from a gentleman of judicious and diligent observation, and one whom the Duke well favoured: that within the space of not many minutes after the fall of the body and removal thereof into the fi rst room, there was not a living creature in either of the Chambers, no more than if it had lien in the sands of Ethiopia; whereas commonly in such cases, you shall note every where a great and sudden confl ux of people unto the place to hearken and to see. But it should seem the very horror of the fact had stupifi ed all curiosity, and so dispersed the multitude, that it is thought even the murtherer himself might have escaped (for who gave the blow none could affi rm) if he had not lingered about the house below, not by my confused arrest of conscience, as hath been seen in like examples, Lochithea 539 but by very pride in his own deed, as if in effect there were little difference between being remembered by a virtuous fame, or an illustrious infi my.

Thus died this great peer in the thirty-sixth year of his age complete and three days over, in a time of great recourse unto his and dependance upon him, the house and town full of servants and suitors, and dutchess in the upper room once yet out of bed; and the court at that time not above six or nine miles from him, which had been the stage of his greatness.”43

The Paper which was found in Felton’s hat, and by which he was identiﬁ ed as the assas- sin of the Duke of Buckingham, is still preserved. It was recently found among the Evelyn papers at Wotton in Surrey and is now in the possession of Mr. Upcott of the London Institution.

If I be slain, let no man condemne me, but rather condemne himself; it is for our sins that our hearts are hardened, and become senselesse, or else he had not gone so long unpunished. John Felton.

March 9, 1632 Lord Bacon’s pupil, Bushell, went to the Isle of Man and stayed there for three years.44 This same year, William Rawley writes to the publishers in France, Monsieur Ælius Deodate: “Most noble and dear sir. I am now, at last, in the country, the spring and Lent coming on. I am sorry that I had not the opportunity of waiting on you before I left the town: but, I am sure, I shall never be wanting in serving you upon all occasions, and in performing towards you all ofﬁ ces, either of friendship, or observance. I will (to the utmost of my power) take care to publish the labours of that illustrious hero, esteeming it my greatest happiness, to have formerly served him, and still to do so. And that I may avoid all suspicion of being worse than my word, I will perform my promise with all convenient speed. I desire that this friendship, and mutual inwardness begun betwixt us, may always continue, and (if you please) live and ﬂ ourish by letters, the badges and nourishers of it, even when you are at Paris: a place, which (if ever I be so happy) I will see for your sake, as well as for other reasons. Pray, think not that I am free of my words, and frugal of my deeds, but rather that my thick and very troublesome occasions, whilst I was in the city, would not suffer me to kiss your hands. It remains, that I heartily honour you, and retaliate your love, and with you all the good in the world, as being your most faithful servant, and constant friend.”

August 6, 1637 Ben Jonson dies. There was a project for a handsome monument to his memory; but the Civil War was at hand, and the project failed. A memorial, not insuf- ﬁ cient, was carved on the stone covering his grave in one of the aisles of Westminster Abbey: O rare Ben Jonson.

43 Reliquiæ Wotton. 12º Lond. 1651. p. 112 44 Joseph Train: History of the Isle of Man 540 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

1643 Edward Coke dies.

1645 A group of scholars began meeting and corresponding with the express purpose of discussing natural philosophy and advancing technology. They were known as the Invisible or, more commonly among them, the “Philosophical” College. They did not have a regular building. Among those involved were Robert Boyle, Robert Moray, John Evelyn, and Christopher Wren. The Invisible College was centered on Bacon’s principles that knowledge was power, and that all knowledge had been given for use and “the relief of man’s estate and not for its own sake.” Eventually, the Invisible College would be given royal sanction as the Royal Society. We now know that the “Invisible College” was the tip of a much larger iceberg, began a pattern of reinventing the image of science which continues to this day. The work of Charles Webster was key, here, but even more important was the cache of documents on which he based his work, The Hartlib Papers—Courtesy of (www. sirbacon.org)

Samuel Hartlib (1600–1662) a calvinist, born in Prussia, became an exile during the 30 years of war. He then moved to England permanently in the mid 1630’s when he began to believe that a thorough reform of education and philosophy should be in addition to religion that would unite Europe and usher in an age of peace. Inﬂ uenced heavily by the ideas of Francis Bacon and later, Jan Comenius, he developed an extensive network of scholars with whom he corresponded, and whom he believed would form the vanguard of this new age. This semiformal network of scholars has come to be known as The Hartlib Circle—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org)

October 1649 Sir Thomas Meautys dies. By the care and gratitude, representing his full portraiture in the posture of studying, with an inscription composed by that accomplished gentleman and rare wit, Sir Henry Wotton, erected a monument of white marble at St. Michael’s in St. Albans, for my Lord Verulam:45

FRANCIS BACON BARON OF VERULAM, VISCOUNT ST. ALBANS OR BY TITLES STILL BETTER KNOWN, THE LIGHT OF THE SCIENCES, THE NORM OF ELOQUENCE. THUS TOOK HIS REST. HE, AFTER THAT HE HAD UNFOLDED ALL THE SECRETS OF NATURAL AND CIVIC LORE, FULFILLED THE DECREE OF NATURE LET HIS FRAME NOW DISSOLVE IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD MDCXXVI. AT THE AGE OF LXVI. TO THE MEMORY OF SO GREAT A MAN

45 Spedding: Works, vol i. p. 57 Lochithea 541

THOMAS MEAUTYS FRIEND OF THE LIVING ADMIRER OF THE DEAD HAS SET THIS MONUMENT.

May 29, 1652 Isaac Gruter writes to William Rawley regarding Bacon’s Manuscripts:

To The Reverend, And Most Learned, William Rawley, Isaac Gruter Wisheth Much Health. Reverend Sir. By reason of the immature death of my brother, to whom we owe the Latin translation of the Lord Bacon’s Natural History, I have been forced to stay a long while in our native country of Zealand, in order to the settling of the domestic affairs of the person deceased. Returning home to Holland, I found your letter, which, I assure you, was most acceptable to me; yet at this I was concerned, that my necessary absence from The Hague had occasioned so late an answer to it. He deserves pardon who offends against his will: and who will endeavour to make amends for this involuntary delay, by the study of such kindness as shall be vigilant in offi ces of friendship, as often as occasion shall be offered. The design of him, who translated into French, the Natural History of the Lord Bacon, (of which I gave account in my former letters) is briefl y exhibited in my brother’s preface, which I desire you to peruse; as also, in your next letter, to send me your judgment concerning such errors as may have been committed by him. That edition of my brother’s of which you write, that you read it with a great deal of pleasure, shall shortly be set forth with his amendments, together with some additions of the like argument to be substituted in the place of The New Atlantis, which shall be there omitted. These additions will be the same with those in the version of the formentioned Frenchman, put into Latin; seeing we could not fi nd the English originals from which he translate them: unless you, when you see the book, shall condemn those additions as adulterate. For your observations on those places, either not rightly understood, or not accurately turned out of the English by you published, (which, from one not a native, in his fi rst essay, and growing in knowledge together with his years, if they be many, no man needs wonder at it, who understands the physiological variety of an argument of such extent, and rendered diffi cult by such an heap of things of which it consists, and for the expressing of which there is not a supply of words from the ancients, but some of a new stamp, and such as may serve for present use, are required) I intreat you not to deny me the sight of them: that so I may compare them with the corrections which my brother (now with God) did make with a very great deal of pains. But, whether the truth of them answers his diligence, will be best understood by yourself, and those few others by whom such elegancies can be rightly judged of. 542 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

I send you here a catalogue of those writings46 which I had, in M.S. out of the study of Sir William Boswel, and which I now have by me, either written by the Lord Bacon himself, or by some English amanuensis, but by him revised; as the same Sir William Boswel (who was pleased to admit me to a most intimate familiarity with him) did himself tell me. Among my copies (as the catalogue which comes with this letter shows) you will fi nd The History of Rare and Dense Bodies, but imperfect, though carried on to some length. I had once in my hands, an entire and thick volume concerning Heavy and Light Bodies, but consisting only of a naked delineation of the model, which the Lord Bacon had framed in his head, in titles of matters, without any description of the matters themselves. There is here enclosed, a copy of that contexture containing only the heads of the chapters, and wanting a full handling from that rude draught; which supplement I dispair of. For the book of Dense and Rare Bodies, which you have by you, perfected by the author’s last hand, as likewise the fragments which are an appendix to it, I could wish that they might be here published in Holland, together with those hitherto unpublished philosophical papers copied by me, out of MSS of Sir William Boswel; seeing, if they come out together, they will set off, and commend one another. I have begun to deal with a printer, who is a man of great diligence and curiosity. I will so order the matter that you shall have no reason to complain of my fi delity and candour, if you leave that edition to me. Care shall be taken by me, that it be not done without honourable mention of yourself. But be it what is till you shall resolve upon, it shall abate nothing of the offi ces of our friendship, which, from this beginning of it, shall still further be promoted upon all occasions. Lewis Elzevir, wrote me word lately, from Amsterdam, that he was designed to begin shortly, an edition in quarto, of all the works of the Lord Bacon, in Latin, or English: but not of the English, without the translation of them into Latin. And he desired my advice, and my assistance I could give him by manuscripts, or translations; to the end that, as far as possible, those works might come abroad with advantage, which have been long received with the kindest elegies, and with the most attested applause of the learned world. If you have anything in your mind, or your hands, whence we may hope for assistance in so famous a design, and conducing so much to the honour of those who are instrumental in it, pray let me know it, and reckon me henceforth amongst the devout honourers of the name of the Lord Bacon, and of your own virtues. I expect from you what you know, about the ancestors of the Lord Bacon, especially concerning his father, Nicholas Bacon; concerning his youth, his studies in Cambridge, his travels, his honours, his offi ce of Chancellor, and his deposal from it by sentence of Parliament. The former I will undertake in a more fl orid and free style, expatiating in his just praise; the latter, with a wary pen, left out of my commentary of the life of this most learned man, matter be offered of pernicious parting, to slanderers, and men of dishonest tempers. Farewell from The Hague

1653 The Anatomy of Melancholy, by Robert Burton (1576–1639) is published.

46 Papers which Gruter published under the title Scripta Philosophica Lochithea 543

1655 To The Reverend William Rawley, D.D. Isaac Gruter Wisheth Much Health. Reverend Sir. It is not just to complain of the slowness of your answer, seeing that the diffi culty of the passage, in the season in which you wrote, which was towards winter, might easily cause it to come no faster: seeing likewise, there is so much to be found in it which may gratify desire, and perhaps, so much the more, the longer it was e’re it came to my hands. And although I had little to send back, besides my thanks for the little index, yet that seemed to me of such moment, that I would no longer suppress them; especially because I accounted it a crime to have suffered Mr. Smith47 to have been without an answer: Mr. Smith, my most kind friend, and to whose care in my matters, I owe all regard and affection, yet without diminution of that part (and that no small one neither) in which Dr. Rawley hath place: so that the souls of us three so thoroughly agreeing, may be aptly said to have united in a Triga. Though I thought that I had already, suffi ciently showed, what veneration I had for the illustrious Lord Verulam, yet I shall take such care for the future, that it may not possibly be denied, that I endeavoured most zealously to make this thing known to the learned world. But neither shall this design, of setting forth in one volume, all the Lord Bacon’s works, proceed without consulting you, and without inviting you to cast in your symbol, worthy such an excellent edition: that so the appetite of the reader, provoked already by his published works, may be further gratifi ed by the pure novelty of so considerable an appendage. For the French interpreter, who patched together his things I know not whence, and tack’d that motley piece to him; they shall not have place in this great collection. But yet, I hope, to obtain your leave to publish apart, as an appendix to the Natural History, that exotic work, gathered together from this and the other place and by me translated into Latin. For seeing the genuine pieces of the Lord Bacon are already extant, and in many hands, it is necessary that the foreign reader be given to understand, of what threads the texture of that book consists, and how much of truth there is in that, which that shameless person does in his preface to the reader, so stupidly write of you. My brother, of blessed memory, turned his words into Latin, in the fi rst edition of the Natural History, having some suspicion of the fi delity of an unknown author. I will, in the second edition, repeat them, and with just severity, animadvert upon them: that they, into whose hands that work comes, may know it to be suppositious, or rather patched up of many distinct pieces; how much soever the author bears himself upon the specious title of Verulam. Unless, perhaps, I should particularly suggest in your name, that these words were there inserted, by way of caution; and left malignity and rashness should anyway blemish the fame of so eminent a person. Si me, Fata, meis, paterentur ducere vitam auspiciis (to use the words of Virgil) if my fate would permit me to live according to my wishes, I would fl y over into England, that I might behold whatsoever remaineth, in your cabinet, of the Verulamian Workmanship, and at

47 Keeper of the public library at Christ College 544 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals least make my eyes witness of it, if the possession of the merchandise be yet denied to the public. At present I will support the wishes of my impatient desire, with hope of seeing, one day, those which being committed to faithful privacy, wait the time till they may safely see the light, and not be stiﬂ ed in their birth. I wish, in the meantime, I could have a sight of the copy of the epistle to Sir Henry Savil, concerning the Helps of the Intellectual Powers: for I am persuaded, as to the other Latin remains, that I shall not obtain, for present use, the removal of them from the place in which they now are. Farewell from Maestricht, March 20—New style, 1655.

July 1, 1659 To The Reverend, And Most Learned, William Rawley, D.D. Isaac Gruter Wisheth Much Health. Reverend Sir, and my most dear friend. How much I hold myself honoured by your present of the Lord Bacon’s posthumous works, published lately by you in Latin, my thanks immediately returned, he let you understand, if ill fortune in the passage (which is, for divers causes, uncertain) had not deluded the care of a friend, who did here with much readiness, undertake the conveyance of them. Now, the gift is by so much the greater, by how much the more beneﬁ t I reaped by diligent reading of those papers, and by comparing them with some of the Lord Bacon’s works, which I myself had formerly published. For to you we owe the more enlarged History de Denso & Raro, and also many other things, contained in that volume, which saw not the light before. One paper I wonder I saw not amongst them, the epistle of the Lord Bacon to Sir Henry Savil, about the Helps of the Intellectual Powers, spoken of long ago in your letters, under that, or some such title, if my memory does not deceive me. If it was not forgotten, and remains among your private papers, I should be glad to see a copy of it, in the use of which, my faithfulness shall not be wanting. But, perhaps, it is written in the English tongue, and is a part of that greater volume, which contains only his English works. If you will please to let me understand so much, and likewise give me assurance of obtaining that book, in which the Speeches, and it may be the letters of the Lord Bacon, written by him in English, are digested; you will render your memory sacred in my mind, in the veneration of which, the cheerfulness of a most devoted affection shall never be weary. Farewell. From Maestricht, from whence, after two or three months, I remove to Nimmeghen higher to Holland. But you may convey to me, anything you desire, by Mr. Smith.

Lord Campbell48 “It is not very creditable to England that Bacon’s philosophical works have fallen into comparative neglect in his own country. Aristotle excludes them at Oxford, and they are not the subject of any lecture for examinations at Cambridge, while at most foreign universities The Baconian system49 is regularly taught, and it is to Scotch Professors,

48 From The Life of Lord Bacon, 1853 49 Pears Cyclopædia 1966–67: Baconian Method, the use in science and philosophy of the induc- tive (as opposed to the deductive or Aristotelian) method of reasoning as proposed by Francis Lochithea 545

Reid, Dugald Stewart, Robison, and Playfair, that it owes its best illustrations.” From the same edition, Lord Campbell gives the following on p. 234–235, which is of interest in a report of the Lord Chancellor after Lord Bacon’s death: “A report of the Lord Chancellor, on the state of the debts and assess, contains these very curious passages: “That concerning the several debts demanded by Sir Peter Van Lord, Mr. Peacock, and Philip Holman, it is alleged that the testator was sentenced for them in Parliament as bribes, and therefore not conceived reasonable that they should come in as creditors. Nevertheless, further time is given them to produce their proofs, and to hear what can be said on either side touching their said demands.” Then, with respect to a bond for £1.000 to secure that amount lent to him [Bacon] when he was Attorney General, the report, after stating the objection by the credits, Lord Campbell continues: “I have thought ﬁ t to set down the testator’s own words, touching the said debt, and so leave the same to your Lordships’ consideration: “A note of such debts as either in respect of length of time or the nature of the ﬁ rst borrowing or agreement since, need not be thought upon for repayment; viz. the farmers of the customs £1.000 lent long since, when I was Attorney, and without interest, upon great and many pleasure done to the said farmers, and whereas I was wont to have of them yearly a New Year’s gift of £100 at least, upon this money lent it was discontinued, and so the principal worn out, for interest was never intended.”50

1660 The Royal Society is founded as a special project of Charles II. It was dedicated to the same principles as the Invisible College and Bacon’s Salomon’s House. As a result of the Civil War, and the role which religion had played in it, as well as the need for healing such divisions, the Royal Society had a policy that it would not concern itself with matters of faith. In his history of the Royal Society, Thomas Sprat credited Bacon with drawing the proper distinction between faith and natural philosophy. From this point on, there has been a tendency to read that division into Bacon’s writings. Ironically, in referring to Bacon’s genius, Sprat described him as the “Moses” who led the English nation out of the “Wilderness” of ignorance and has countless other uses of the Bible and Biblical imagery in his history—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org)

June 18, 1667 William Rawley dies.

Bacon (1561–1616?). Deduction argues from supposedly certain ﬁ rst principles (such as the existence of God or Descartes’s “I think, therefore I am”) what the nature of the universe and its laws must be, whereas Bacon denied the possibility of proving religious or metaphysical doctrines by thought and argument. The only means of obtaining true knowledge of the universe, in his view, was by the amassing of facts and observation so that when enough were obtained the truth would be known in the same way that a child’s numbered dots in a playbook joined together by a pencilled line create a picture. This method, known as induction, is essentially the method of modern science, although it is generally agreed today that Bacon underrated the importance of hypotheses and theory since the greatest possible number of observations are of little signiﬁ cance until the scientist’s intuition makes sense of them. 50 Reg. Lib. 19 Feb. 1626. 546 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Voltaire “Western scientiﬁ c progress, argued Bacon, was built upon a foundation of three key technological discoveries, which had changed man’s ability to control the natural world. These three were printing, gunpowder, and the magnet.” Voltaire, an admirer of Bacon, later added the invention of glass to the three discoveries, as fundamental to the advancement of knowledge.51

T. B. Macaulay. To Macvey Napier, Esq. Calcutta: November 26, 183652 Dear Napier, At last I send you an article of interminable length about Lord Bacon. I hardly know whether it is not too long for an article in a review; but the subject is of such vast extent that I could easily have made the paper twice as long as it is. About the historical and political part there is no great probability that we shall differ in opinion; but what I have said about Bacon’s philosophy is widely at variance with what Dugald Stuart, and Mackintosh, have said on the same subject. I have not your essay; nor have I read it since I read it at Cambridge, with very great pleasure, but without any knowledge of the subject. I have at present only a very faint and general recollection of its contents, and have in vain tried to procure a copy of it here. I fear, however, that, differing widely as I do from Stewart and Mackintosh, I shall hardly agree with you. My opinion is formed, not at second hand, like those of nine-tenths of the people who talk about Bacon; but after several very attentive perusals of his greatest works, and after a good deal of thought. If I am in the wrong, my errors may set the minds of others at work, and may be the means of bringing both them, and me, to a knowledge of the truth. I never bestowed so much care on anything that I have written. There is not a sentence in the latter half of the article, which has not been repeatedly recast. I have no expectation that the popularity of the article will bear any proportion to the trouble, which I have expended on it. But the trouble has been so great a pleasure to me that I have already been greatly overpaid. Pray look carefully to the printing.

T. B. Macaulay. Calcutta: November 28, 1836.53 Dear Napier, There is an oversight in the article on Bacon, which I shall be much obliged to you to correct. I have said that Bacon did not deal at all in idle rants “like those in which Cicero and Mr. Shandy sought consolation for the loss of Tullia and of Bobby. Nothing can, as a general remark, be more true, but it escaped my recollection that two or three of Mr. Shandy’s consolatory sentences are quoted from Bacon’s Essays. The illustration, therefore,

51 Voltaire (1694–1778) a French philosopher who helped to spread knowledge of Shakespeare’s plays in Europe as noted in Stanley Wells’ A Dictionary of Shakespeare, 1998 52 George Otto Trevelyan: Life and Letters of Lord Macaulay, 1876 53 George Otto Trevelyan: Life and Letters of Lord Macaulay, 1876 Lochithea 547 is singularly unfortunate. Pray alter it thus; “in which Cicero vainly sought consolation for the loss of Tullia.” To be sure, it is idle to correct such triﬂ es at a distance of ﬁ fteen thousand miles.

James Joyce Ulysses Good Bacon: gone musty. Shakespeare Bacon’s wild oats. Cypherjugglers going the highroads. Seekers on the great quest. What town, good masters? Mummed in names: A. E., eon: Magee, John Eglinton. East of the sun, west of the moon: Tir na n-og. Booted the twain and staved. Sabellius, the African, subtlest heresiarch of all the beasts of the ﬁ eld, held that the Father was Himself His Own Son. The bulldog of Aquin, with whom no word shall be impossible, refutes him. Well: if the father who has not a son be not a father can the son who has not a father be a son? When Rutlandb aconsouthamptonshakespeare or another poet of the same name in the comedy of errors wrote Hamlet he was not the father of his own son merely but, being no more a son, he was and felt himself the father of all his race, the father of his own grandfather, the father of his unborn grandson who, by the same token, never was born, for nature, as Mr. Magee understands her, abhors perfection.

The Translation Of The Cxxxviith Psalm54 By Francis Bacon When as we state, all sad and desolate, By Babylon upon the river’s side, Eas’d from the tasks which in our captive state We were enforced daily to abide, Our harps we had brought with us to the ﬁ eld, Some solace to our heavy souls to yield. But soon we found we fail’d of our account, For when our minds some freedom did obtain, Straightways the memory of Sion Mount Did cause afresh our wounds to bleed again; So that with present griefs, and future fears, Our eyes burst forth into a stream of tears. As for our harps, since sorrow struck them dumb, We hang’d them on the willow-trees were near; Yet did our cruel masters to us come, Asking of us some Hebrew songs to hear: Taunting us rather in our misery, Than much delighting in our melody.

54 Francis Bacon: Translation of Certaine Psalmes into English Verse, 1625 548 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Alas (said we) who can once force or frame His grieved and oppressed heart to sing The praises of Jehovah’s glorious name, In banishment, under a foreign King? In Sion is his seat and dwelling place, Thence doth he shew the brightness of his face. Hierusalem, where God his throne hath set, Shall any hour absent thee from my mind? Then let my right hand quite her skill forget, Then let my voice and words no passage ﬁ nd; Nay, if I do not thee prefer in all, That in the compass of my thoughts can fall. Remember thou, O Lord, the cruel cry Of Edom’s children, which did ring and sound, Inciting the Chaldean’s cruelty, “Down with it, down with it, even unto the ground.” In that good day repay it unto them, When thou shalt visit thy Hierusalem. And thou, O Babylon, shalt have thy turn By just revenge, and happy shall he be, That thy proud walls and tow’rs shall waste and burn, And as thou didst by us, so do by thee. Yea, happy he, that takes thy children’s bones, And dasheth them against the pavement stones.

Tributes To Sir Francis Bacon Given By His Contemporaries55 To The Royal Ingenious And All-Learned Knight, Sir Francis Bacon Thy bounty and the beauty of thy witt Compris’d in lists of Law and learned Arts, Each making thee for great Imployment ﬁ tt, Which now thou hast (though short of thy deserts,) Compells my pen to let fall shining Inke And to bedew the Baies that deck thy Front, And to thy Health in Helicon to drinke, As to her Bellamour the Muse is wont, For thou dost her embosom; and dost use Her company for sport twixt grave affaires: So utter’st Law the livelyer through thy Muse. And for that all thy Notes are sweetest Aires;

55 Reproduced with the kind permission of the British Library. Much of the original spelling of these documents remain. Lochithea 549

My Muse thus notes thy worth in ev’ry line, With ynke which thus she sugars; so, to shine. John Davies of Hereford, Scourge of Folly (c.1610)

Dedicatory Letter Prefacing An Italian Translation Of Bacon’s Essays And Wisdom Of Ancients (1617) And truly I have known a great number whom I much value, many whom I admire, but none who hath so astonished me and, as it were, ravished my senses, to see so many and so great parts which in other men were wont to be incompatible, united, and in that eminent degree in one sole person. I know not whether this truth will fi nd easy belief. The matter I report is so well understood in England, that every man knows and acknowledges as much, nay hath been an eye and ear witness whereof; nor if I should expatiate upon this subject, should I be held a fl atterer, but rather a suffragan to truth. Praise is not confi ned to the qualities of his intellect, but applies as well to those which are matters of the heart, the will and moral virtue; being a man both sweet in his ways and conversation, grave in his judgments, invariable in his fortunes, splendid in his expenses, a friend unalterable to his friends, an enemy to no man, a most indefatigable servant to the King, and a most earnest lover of the public, having all the thoughts of that large heart of his set upon adorning the age in which he lives, and benefi ting, as far as possible, the whole human race. And I can truly say (having had the honour to know him for many years as well when he was in his lesser fortunes as now he stands at the top and in the full fl ower of his greatness) that I never yet saw any trace in him of a vindictive mind, whatever injury was done to him, nor ever heard him utter a word to any man’s disadvantage which seemed to proceed from personal feeling against the man, but only (and that too very seldom) from judgment made of him in cold blood. It is not his greatness that I admire, but his virtue; it is not the favours I have received from him (infi nite though they be) that have thus enthralled and enchained my heart, but his whole life and character; which are such that, if he were of an inferior condition I could not honour him the less, and if he were my enemy, I should not the less love and endeavour to serve him. Sir Tobie Matthew

To The Most High Chancellor Of All England. FR. BA. How great thou stand’st before us, whether the thorny volumes of the Law Or the Academy, or the sweet Muses call thee, O Bacon! How thy prudence rules over great affairs! And thy whole tongue is moist with celestial nectar! How well combinest thou merry wit with silent gravity! How ﬁ rmly thy love stands by those once admitted to it. Thomas Campion, Epigrammatum. Lib II.(1619). Translation from the Latin 550 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

So did Philosophy, entangled in the subtleties of Schoolmen seek Bacon as a deliverer. He renewed her, walking humbly in the socks of Comedy. After that, more elaborately he rises on the loftier buskin of Tragedy. R.P., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 4

Let expediency consider the better part of counsel, but add, a concealed poet from Ithaca, and you hold all. E.F., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 17

Muses pour forth your perennial waters in lamentations, and let Apollo shed tears. The very nerve of genius, the marrow of persuasion, the golden stream of eloquence, the precious gem of concealed literature, the noble Bacon (ah! the relentless warp of the three sisters) has fallen by the fates. O how am I in verse like mine to commemorate you, sublime Bacon! And those glorious memorials of all the ages composed by your genius and by Minerva. R. C., T. C., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 9

And you, who were able to immortalise the Muses, could you die yourself, O Bacon? R.L., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 29

You have ﬁ lled the world with your writings, and the ages with your fame. C.D., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 24

Finally he dies full of an unusually rich vein of arts, and dying demonstrates how extensive is art, how contracted is life, how everlasting fame; he who was in our sphere the brilliant Light-Bearer, and trod great paths of glory, passes, and ﬁ xed in his own orb shines refulgent. Anon., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 25

The day-star of the Muses has set before his hour! Anon., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 1856

The ardour of his noble heart could bear no longer that you, divine Minerva, should be despised. His god-like pen restored your wonted honour and as another Apollo dispelled the clouds that hid you. But he dispelled also the darkness which murky antiquity and blear-eyed old age of former times had brought about; and his super-human sagacity instituted new methods and tore away the labyrinthine windings, but gave us his own. Certainly it is clear that the crown of ancient sages had not such penetrating eyes. They

56 Howard Bridgewater: Evidence Connecting Sir Francis Bacon with “Shakespeare” The Bacon Society: “The Rev. William Sutton, S.J., who was responsible for the translation of these elegies, says Lord Verulam must have been known to the writers of them as a supreme poet. “In the fourth elegy,” he says, “he gets credit for uniting philosophy to the drama, and for restoring philosophy through comedy and tragedy.” Lochithea 551 were like Phœbus rising in the East, he like the same resplendent at noon. They begot the infant muses, he the adult. They were parents of mortal muses, he produced goddesses. Pallas too, now arrayed in a new robe, paces forth, as a snake shines when it has put off its old skin. When he perceived that the arts were held by no roots, and like seed scattered on the surface of the soil were withering away, he taught the Pegasean arts to grow, as grew the spear of Quirinus swiftly into a laurel tree. Thomas Randolf, Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 32

Is it thus falls the rarest glory of the Aonian band? And do we decree to entrust seed to the Aonian ﬁ elds? Break pens, tear up writings, if the dire goddesses may justly act so. Alas! What a tongue is mute! What eloquence ceases! Whither have departed the nectar and ambrosia of your genius? How is it happened to us, the disciples of the Muses, that Apollo, the leader of our choir, should die? John Williams, Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 12

If none but the worthy should mourn your death, O Bacon! None, trust me, none will there be. Lament now sincerely, O Clio! And sisters of Clio! Ah, the tenth Muse and glory of the choir has perished. Ah, never before has Apollo himself been truly unhappy! Anon., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 20

Bacon, a muse more rare than the nine Muses. Samuel Collins, Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 2

You have written, O Bacon! The history of the life and death of us all. Nay, give place, O Greeks! Give place, Maro, ﬁ rst in Latin story. Supreme both in eloquence and writing, under every head renowned. Anon., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 16

For if venerable Virtue and the wreaths of Wisdom make an Ancient, you were older than Nestor. Gawen Nash, Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 27

Think you, foolish traveller, that the leader of the choir of the Muses and of Phœbus is interred in cold marble? Away, you are deceived. The Verulamium star now glitters in ruddy Olympus. Anon., Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 23

Some there are though dead live in marble, and trust all their duration to long lasting columns; others shine in bronze, or are beheld in yellow gold, and deceiving themselves think they deceive the fates. Another division of men surviving in a numerous offspring, like Niobe irreverent, despise the mighty gods; but your fame adheres not to sculptured columns, nor is read on the tomb, “Stay, traveller, your steps.” Thomas Vincent, Manes Verulamiani (1626), Elegy 7 552 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

If any progeny recalls their sire, not of the body is it, but born, so to speak, of the brain, as Minerva’s from Jove’s. Thomas Vincent, Manes Veulamiani (1626), Elegy 7

True Nobility, and tryde learning, beholden to no Mountaine for Eminence, nor Supportment for Height, Francis, Lord Verulam, and Viscount St, Albanes. Give me leave to pull the Curtaine by that clouds thy Worth in such obscurity. Good Seneca, stay but a while thy bleeding, t’ accept what I received at thy Reading: Here I present it in a solemne strayne, and thus I pluckt the Curtayne backe again. Thomas Powell, Dedication, Attourney’s Academy (1630)

Discoveries (1641) p. 102 Yet there happened in my time one noble speaker who was full of gravity in his speaking; his language, where he could spare or pass by a jest, was nobly censorious. No man ever spake more neatly, more pressly, more weightily, or suffered less emptiness, less idleness, in what he uttered. No member of his speech but consisted of his own graces. His hearers could not cough or look aside from him without loss. He commanded where he spoke, and had his judges angry or pleased at his devotion. No man had their affections more in his power. The fear of every man that heard him was lest he should make an end. But the learned and able (though unfortunate) successor is he who hath ﬁ lled up all numbers, and performed that in our tongue which may be compared or preferred either to insolent Greece, or haughty Rome. In short, within his view, and about his times, were all the wits born that could honour a language, or help study. Now things daily fall: wits grow down- ward, and Eloquence grows backward. So that he may be named and stand as the mark and acme of our language. My conceit of his Person was never increased toward him by his place or honours. But I have and do reverence him for the greatness that was only proper to himself, in that he seemed to me ever, by his work, one of the greatest men and most worthy of admiration that had been in many ages. In his adversity I ever prayed that God would give him strength: for greatness he could not want. Neither could I condole in a word or syllable for him, as knowing no accident could do harm to virtue, but rather help to make it manifest. Ben Jonson57

Preface To Waller’s Poems (1645) Not but that I may defend the attempt I have made upon Poetry by the examples, not to trouble you with history, of many wise and worthy persons of our times; as Sir Philip Sydney, Sir Fra. Bacon, Cardinal Perron, the ablest of his countrymen, and the former Pope who, they say, instead of the triple crown wore sometimes the poet’s ivy as an ornament perhaps of lesser weight and trouble. But Madam, these Nightingales sung only in the Spring, it was the diversion of their youth.

57 Tom Hickman: “Ben Jonson is the only person in Westminster Abbey to be buried standing upright, beneath the nave.” Lochithea 553

Preface To His Collection Of Letters (Published 1660) It will go near to pose any other nation of Europe, to muster out in any age, four men, who in so many respects should excel four such as we are able to show them: Cardinal Wolsey, Sir Thomas More, Sir Philip Sydney and Sir Francis Bacon. The fourth was a creature of incomparable abilities of mind, of a sharp and catching apprehension, large and faithful memory, plentiful and sprouting invention, deep and solid judgement, for as such as might concern the understanding part. A man so rare in knowledge, of so many several kinds endued with the facility and felicity of expressing it in all so elegant, signiﬁ cant, so abundant, and yet so choice and ravishing a way of words, of metaphors and allusions as, perhaps, the world hath not seen, since it was a world. Tobie Matthew

Baconiana Or Certaine Genuine Remains Of Sir Francis Bacon (1679) And those who have true skill in the works of the Lord Verulam, like great Masters in Painting, can tell by the Design, the Strength, the way of Colouring, whether he was the Author of this or the other Piece, though his Name be not to it. Archbishop Tenison

When you have made all the requisite deductions, Bacon remains as one of the great build- ers who constructed the mind of the modern world. Prof. Whitehead

Lord Bacon, let us also remember, not only that Bacon’s science is one of the instruments by which we have come to know the deﬁ ciencies of science, but that science without much dilution was a medicine which Bacon’s age very much needed. Geoffrey Grigson, 1904

A Letter From Thomas Hood (1799–1845) To The Manchester Athenaeum On The Uses Of Literature:58 From my bed 17 Elm Tree Road, St. John’s Wood July 18, 1843. Gentlemen. If my humble name can be of the least use for your purpose, it is heartily at your service, with my best wishes for the prosperity of the Manchester Athenaeum, and my warmest approval of the objects of that Institution. I have elsewhere recorded my own deep obligations to literature that a natural turn for reading, and intellectual pursuits, probably preserved me from the moral shipwreck so apt to befall those who are deprived in early life of the paternal pilotage. At the very least my books kept me aloof from the ring, the dog-pit, the tavern, and the saloons, with their degrading orgies. For the closet associate of Pope and Addison, the mind accustomed to

58 Selected English Letters; xv–xix Centuries 554 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals the noble, though silent discourse of Shakespeare and Milton, will hardly seek, or put up with low company and slang. The reading animal will not be content with the brutish wallowings that satisfy the unlearned pigs of the world. Later experience enables me to depose to the comfort and blessing that literature can prove in seasons of sickness and sorrow; how powerfully intellectual pursuits can help in keeping the head from crazing, and the heart from breaking; nay, not to be too grave, how generous mental food can even atone for a meagre diet; rich fare on the paper, for short commons on the cloth. Poisoned by the malaria of the Dutch marshes, my stomach for many months resolutely set itself against fi sh, fl esh, or fowl; my appetite had no more edge than the German knife placed before me. But luckily the mental palate and digestion were still sensible and vigorous; and whilst I passed untasted every dish at the Rhenish table-d’-hote, I could still enjoy my Peregrine Pickle, and the feast after the manner of the Ancients. There was no yearning towards calf’s head a la tortue, or sheep’s heart; but I could still relish Head a la Brunnen, and the Heart of Mid-Lothian. Still more recently it was my misfortune, with a tolerable appetite, to be condemned to Lenten fare, like Sancho Panza, by my physician, to a diet, in fact, lower than any prescribed by the Poor-Law Commissioners, all animal food, from a bullock to a rabbit, being strictly interdicted, as well as all fl uids stronger than that which lays dust, washes pinafores, and waters polyanthus. But the feast of reason and the fl ow of soul were still mine! Denied beef, I had Bulwer and Cowper; forbidden mutton, there was Lamb; and in lieu of pork, the great Bacon, or Hogg. Then as to beverage; it was hard, doubtless, for a Christian to set his face, like a Turk, against the juice of the grape. But, eschewing wine, I had still my Butler; and in the absence of liquor, all the Choice Spirits from Tom Browne to Tom Moore. Thus though confi ned physically to the drink that drowns kittens, I quaffed men- tally, not merely the best of our own home-made, but the rich, racy, sparkling growths of France and Italy, of Germany and Spain; the champagne of Moliere, the Monte Pulciano of Boccaccio, the hock of Schiller, and the sherry of Cervantes. Depressed bodily by the fl uid that damps everything, I got intellectually elevated with Milton, a little merry with Swift, or rather jolly with Rabelais, whose Pantagruel, by the way, is equal to the best gruel with rum in it. So far can Literature palliate, or compensate, for gastronomical privations. But there are other evils, great and small, in this world, which try the stomach less than the head, the heart, and the temper; bowls that will not roll right, well-laid schemes that will ‘gang aglee’ and ill winds that blow with the pertinacity of the monsoon. Of these Providence has allotted me a full share, but still, paradoxical as it may sound, my burthen has been greatly lightened by a load of books. The manner of this will be best understood by a feline illustration. Everybody has heard of the two Kilkenny cats, who devoured each other; but it is not so generally known, that they left behind them an orphan kitten, which, true to its breed, began to eat itself up, till it was diverted from the operation by a mouse. Now the human mind, under vexation, is like that kitten, for it is apt to prey upon itself, unless drawn off by a new object, and none better for the purpose than a book. For example, one of Defoe’s; for who, in reading his thrilling History of the Great Plague, would not be reconciled to a few little ones? Many, many a dreary weary hour have I got over many a gloomy misgiving postponed, many a mental and bodily Lochithea 555 annoyance forgotten by help of the tragedies, and comedies, of our dramatists and novel- ists! Many a trouble has been soothed by the still small voice of the moral philosopher; many a dragon-like care charmed to sleep by the sweet song of the poet! For all which I cry incessantly, not aloud, but in my heart, “Thanks and honour to the glorious masters of the pen, and the great inventors of the press!” Such has been my own experience of the blessing and comfort of literature and intellectual pursuits; and of the same mind, doubtless, was Sir Humphry Davy, who went for Consolations in Travel, not to the inn, or the posting- house, but to his library and his books.

In Robert Boyle’s Essay of Experiments and Considerations Touching Colours, 1664, there is an added quotation by Francis Bacon: Non ﬁ ngendum, aut excogitandum, sed inveniendum, quid Natura faciat, aut ferat.

Mark Twain (1835–1910) “My dear mother, I have told Livy all about Annie’s beautiful house, and about Sam and Charley, and about Charley’s ingenious manufactures and his strong manhood and good promise, and how glad I am that he and Annie married. And I have told her about Annie’s excellent house-keeping, also about the great Bacon conﬂ ict; (I told you it was a hundred to one that neither Livy nor the European powers had heard of that desolating struggle.)59

Metamorphosis of Ovid T.T. Baconiana, 1679: “There has not arisen a more eminent person, than the Lord High Chancellor Bacon. Such great wits, are not the common births of time: and they, surely, intended to signify so much who said of the Phoenix (though in Hyperbole as well as Metaphor) that nature gives the world that individual species, but once in ﬁ ve hundred years.”

Of modern writers, I have received the greatest Light from Geraldus, Pontanus, Ficinus, Viues, Comes, Scaliger, Sabinus, Pierius, and the Crown of the latter, the Viscount of Saint Albans. Mr. Sandys

History Of The Royal Society, Part I. Sect. 16. p. 35–36 The third sort of new philosophers have been those, who have not only disagreed from the ancients, but have also proposed to themselves the right course of ﬂ ow and sure experimenting: and have prosecuted it as far as the shortness of their own lives, or the multiplicity of their other affairs, or the narrowness of their fortunes, have given them leave. Such as these, we are to expect to be but few: for they must divest themselves of many vain conceptions, and overcome a thousand false images, which lie like monsters in their way, before they can get as for this. And of these, I shall only mention one great man, who had the true imagination of the whole extent of this enterprise, as it is now set on foot; and that is, the Lord Bacon. In whose books there are, everywhere scattered, the best arguments

59 Samuel Langhorne Clemens: The Letters Of Mark Twain, 1853–1866 vol. i 556 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals that can be produced of the defence of experimental philosophy; and the best directions that are needful to promote it. All which he has, already adorned with so much art; that if my desires could have prevailed with some excellent friends of mine, who engaged me to this work, there should have been no other preface to the history of the Royal Society, but some of his writings. But, methinks, in this one man, I do at once ﬁ nd enough occasion, to admire the strength of human wit, and to bewail the weakness of a mortal condition. For, is it not wonderful, that he, who had run through all the degrees of that profession, which usually takes up mens whole time; who had studied, and practised, and governed the Common Law: who had always lived in the crowd, and born the greatest burden of civil business; should yet ﬁ nd leisure enough for these retired studies, to excel all those men, who separate themselves for this very purpose? He was a man of strong, clear, and powerful imaginations: his genius was searching, and inimitable: and of this I need give no other proof, than his style itself; which as, for the most part, it describes mens’ minds, as well as pictures do their bodies: so it did his, above all men living. The course of it vigorous, and majestical: the wit bold and familiar: the comparisons fetched out of the way, and yet the most easy: in all, expressing a soul equally skilled in mend, and nature. All this, and much more, is true of him: but yet his philosophical works do show, that a single and busy hand, can never grasp all this whole design, of which we treat. His rules were admirable: yet his history not so faithful as might have been wished in many places: he seems rather to take all that comes, than to choose; and to heap rather than to register. But I hope this accusation of mine, can be no great injury to his memory; seeing, at the same time, that I say he had not the strength of a thousand men, I do also allow him to have had as much as twenty. Dr. Sprat

Memoirs Of Arthur Hamilton, B. A. Of Trinity College, Cambridge The sic sedebat in Trinity College (Cambridge) chapel has given more people a thrill at the thought of Bacon than ever gained one from his books. Personality, personal characteristics, how one craves for them! To take a late instance, how far more impressive General Gordon’s little cane is, which he twirled in his hand as he stormed redoubts and directed an action, than a thousand pages of rhetoric about his philosophy or his views of life. Arthur Christopher Benson

* If you have anything better to say, say it; otherwise, yield. Nay, by my troth, I love the fool the best: and, if you be jealous, God give you good-night! I fear you are a gelding, you caper so light.60

60 First printed in The Alleyn Papers (for the Shakespeare Society), page 8, by Collier, who prefaced it with the following remarks: “In the original MS. this dramatic dialogue in verse is written as prose, on one side of a sheet of paper, at the back of which, in a more modern hand, is the name ‘Kit Marlowe.’ What connection, if any, he may have had with it, it is impossible to determine.” This Dialogue may be a fragment of The Maiden’s Holiday, a lost comedy, which is Lochithea 557

Come, let’s away faithful Reader; give me thy closure. Let night be eyes where all colours hide equal wants. Good Night to me, and Good Morrow to you.

said to have been written partly by Marlowe—See Hero and Leander by Christopher Marlowe and George Chapman, Fragments, ﬁ rst printed in England’s Parnassus, 1600

Epilogue

The Spedding Collection of Baconiana

The collection of books used by James Spedding as his working library in preparing his edition of the Works of Sir Francis Bacon. Offered for sale by Bernard Quaritch 1904

Bacon Collection. The collection of books used by James Spedding (1808–1881), the accomplished editor of the Works of Sir Francis Bacon, as his working library in bringing out that “unsurpassable model of thorough and scholarlike editing.” 363 vols. In 318, folio, 4to., and 8vo.

Price of the collection, £400 net.

This collection should be an invaluable acquisition to a public library or to a collector of Baconiana, as it includes a number of the ﬁ rst and early editions of Bacon’s Works and those of his contemporaries, some of them of great rarity, and also a valuable collection of books in Baconian literature. Additional value is given to many of the books from the fact that they are enriched with Spedding’s MS. Notes (all the cases in which they occur are not mentioned below). A few volumes have been added by me to strengthen the collection, but the great bulk is as Spedding owned it. [This collection Ref: #H 011903.d.1. has been stolen, as of summer 2006, from the British Library.]

Contents SCHEDULE of the Debts of Francis Bacon, Lord Viscount of St. Alban at his death with the dividends paid to the respective Creditor. A legal document on vellum (24 ins x 27 ins), signed by Fra. Phelips Audit and John Peukethman Scri. publ.

A most interesting document shewing the deplorable state in which his ﬁ nances were when Bacon died. The debts amounted to £22.371 1s 3d., while the estate realised by £6.900.

559 560 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

In 1730 this document was in the possession of Thomas Granger, who allowed Blackbourne to copy and reprint it in his edition of Bacon’s Works. There are, however, variations between the original and the copy.

A (B). King James His Apophthegmes; Or Table-Talke. By B.A. Gent. London printed by B.W. 1643.

AMOS (Andrew). The Great Oyer of Poisoning; The Trial of the Earl of Somerset for the poisoning of Sir Thomas Overbury in the Tower of London. 1846. Mr. Spedding has written a long interesting note on the ﬂ y-leaves and title-page, and copious annotations throughout the book.

APOPHTHEGMS. Apophthegmata Græca, Latina, Italica, Gallica, Hispanica; collećta a Gerærdo Tuningio Leidensi, I.C. Ex Ofﬁ cina Plantiniana Raphelengii, cIo.Io,CIX. 1609

BACON (Francis). [Opera Francisci Baronis De Verulamio. Tomus Primus. Qui continet De Dignitate & Augmentis Scientiarum Libros IX. Londini, In Offi cina Ioannis Haviland. MDCXXIII.] Sm. folio, two leaves (¶2), containing the general title and dedication, missing, and P4 slightly defective; contemporary calf, 1623. First edition of the De Augmentis, prepared for publication by William Rawley; exceedingly rare, and according to Archbishop Tenison, the “fairest and most correct edition.” Joseph Knight’s copy fetched £64 in 1905. —Francisci Baconi. Operum Moralium Et Civilium Tomus. Qui continet Historiam Regni Henrici Septimi, Regis Angliæ. Sermons Fideles, sive Interiora Rerum. Traćtatum de Sapientiâ Veterum. Dialogum de Bello Sacro. Et Novam Atlantidem. Curâ & Fide Guilielmi Rawley, in hoc volumine, iterum excusi, includuntur Traćtatus de Augmentis Scientiarum. Historia Ventorum. Historia Vitæ & Mortis. Londini. Excusum Typis Edwardi Griffi ni, 1638. First collected edition of Bacon’s Latin works. The Dialogus de Bello Sacro, Nova Atlantis, and the Tractatus De Augmentis Scientiarum were all three printed by John Haviland, not by Edward Griffi n as was the case with the remainder.

—Francisci Baconi. Opera Omnia, cum Novo eoque insigni Augmento Traćtatuum haćtenus inedditorum, & Ex Idiomate Anglicano in Latinum Sermonem translatorum, Opera Simonis Johannis Arnoldi. Lipsiæ, Impensis Johannis Justi Erythropili, excundebat Christiannus Goezius, A,MDCXCIV. Leipzig, 1694 —Francisci Baconi. Opera omnia, quatuor voluminibus [edited by J. Blacknourne] 4 vols., 1730 —The Philosophical Works of Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulam Methodized, and made English, from the Originals. With occasional Notes. By Peter Shaw. 3 vols., 1733 —The Works of Francis Bacon. 12 vols., 1818 Lochithea 561

—Baconiana. Or Certain Genuine Remains Of Sr. Francis Bacon In Arguments Civil and Moral, Natural, Medical, Theological, and Bibliographical; Now the First time faithfully Published. London, Printed by J.D. for Richard Chiswell 1679. This is Boswell’s copy with his autograph on the back of the portrait. The work is preceded by a long account of these remains and of Bacon’s other works, by the publisher. This Discourse By Way Of Introduction occupies 104 pages and has a separate title-page. —the same. Sm. 8vo., with portrait (mounted); contemporary calf, rebacked 1679 With some notes by Spedding. [—]. Certaine Considerations touching the better pacifi cation, and Edifi cation of the Church of England printed for Henry Tomes. —A Wise and Moderate Discourse, Concerning Church-Affaires written by the Authour of those considerations, which seem to have some reference to this imprinted in the yeare 1641, 2 works in 1 vol., sm. 4to., with two plain corners of the fi rst title slightly mended; modern vellum, with the original limp vellum wrapper bound in; partly uncut [1640]–41. With numerous contemporary MS. notes. —Certaine Miscellany Works Of Frrancis Lo. Verulam published By William Rawley, London, Printed by I. Hauiland for Humphrey Robinson 1629. The Essayes Of Francis Lo. Verulam With A Table Of the Colours of Good and Evill Newly enlarged. London, Printed by Iohn Beale 1639. In 1 vol., sm. 4to., old calf, rebacked 1629–39 —A Charge Given by Sr. Francis Bacon Kt at a Sessions holden for the Verge Declaring The Latitude of the Jurisdićtion thereof London, Printed for Robert Pawley 1662 —The Charge Of Sir Francis Bacon touching Duells, vpon an information in the Star- chamber against Priest and Wright. With The Decree of the Star-chamber in the same cause. Printed for Robert Wilson 1614 —A conference of Pleasure, composed about 1592. Edited, from a MS. belonging to the duke of Northumberland, by James Spedding. 1870 —Considerations Touching A Warre With Spaine. Written by Francis Lo. Verulam, Vi. St. Alban. Imprinted 1629 —Fr. Baconis De Augmentis Scientiarum Lib. IX. Lungd. Batavorum, Ex offi cina Adriani Wijngaerden. Ao 1652 —De Augmentis Scientiarum—see above: Opera 1623 —Francisci Baconi De Sapientia Veterum Liber Londini, Excudebat Robertus Barkerus Anno 1609 First Edition; of extreme rarity. It was reprinted in 1617 (with the omission of Bacon’s address to Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, who died in 1612) and fi rst translated into English, by Sir Arthur Gorges, in 1619. There was no copy of this original edition in the Hoe and Huth collections. 562 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

—Francisci Baconi De Sapientia Veterum Liber Iam recusus. Londini Apud Ioannen Billium, Anno M.DC.XVII. 12mo., vellum 1617 —Francisci Baconi De Sapientia Veterum Liber Editio tertia. Lugduni Batavorum, Ex Offi cina Joannis Maire, cIoIoCLVII 1657 —The Wisedome Of The Ancients, Written In Latine By Sir Francis Bacon done into English by Sir Arthur Gorges London Imprinted by Iohn Bill. 1619. First Edition in English. It remained the only English translation until 1836 —The Elements Of The Common Lavves Of England, Branched into a double Tract: The One Containing a Collećtion of some principall Rules and Maximes of the Common Law, with, their Latitude and Extent The Other The Use of the Common Law By Sir Francis Bacon London, Printed by the Assignes of Iohn More Esquire. 1639 —The Elements Of The Common Lavves Of England By Sir Francis Bacon London, Printed by the Assignes of Iohn More Esquire. 1639. Three Speeches Of Sir Francis Bacon Concerning the Post-Nati Naturalization of the Scotch in England Vnion of the Lawes of the Kingdomes of England and Scotland London, Printed by Richard Badger, for Samuel Broun 1641. The Essayes Or, Counsels, Civill and Morall: Of Francis Lo. Verulam With A Table of the Colours, or Apparances of Good and Evill, and their Degrees, as places of Perswasion, and Disswasion London, Printed by Iohn Beale 1639. True Peace: Or a Moderate Discourse To Compose the unsettled Consciences, and Greatest Differences In Ecclesiastical Affaires, Written by Sir Francis Bacon London, Printed for A.C. 1663. Together in 1 vol., sm. 4to., old calf, rebacked 1639–63. Bound in with the above is: Certaine Considerations touching the better pacifi cation and Edifi cation of the Church of England London Printed for Henry Tomes. An. 1604. This is the fi rst edition, of which there exists an undated reprint. It is defective, as eight leaves (E1–F4) are missing. —An Essay Of A King, With An explanation what manner of persons those should be that are to execute the power of ordinance of the Kings Prerogative. Written By Francis, Lord Verulam Viscount Saint Alban. London, Printed for Richard Best, 1642 —The Essaies Of Sr. Francis Bacon Knight, the Kings Atturney Generall. His Religious Meditations. Places of Perswasion and Diswasion Printed at London for Iohn Iaggard 1613. A pirated reprint of Beale’s genuine edition of 1612, with the addition of the essay “Of Honour and Reputation”, the Meditationes sacræ and Of the colours of Good and Evill. The two essays “Of the publique” and “Of Warre and Peace”, though announced in the table, are not printed. Another edition, also published by John Jaggard, and apparently printed by William Jaggard, containing exacting the same metter, appeared in the same year. —The Essayes Of Francis Lo. Verulam Newly enlarged. London, Printed by Iohn Haviland for Hanna Barret, and Richard Whitaker 1625. First Complete Edition and the last published during the author’s lifetime. In his “Epistle Dedicatori”, Bacon says “I doe now publish my Essayes; which, of all my other workes, haue beene most Currant: For that, as Lochithea 563 it seemes, they come home, to Mens Businesse, and Bosomes. I haue enlarge them, both in Number, and Weight; So that they are indeed a New Worke.” —The Essayes Of Francis Lo. Verulam Newly enlarged. London Printed by Iohn Haviland 1632 —Essayes and Counsels Whereunto is newly added a Table of the Colours of Good and Evil: By Sir Francis Bacon London, Printed for H.R. and are to be sold by Thomas Palmer 1664 —The Essays Or Counsels, Civil and Moral, Of Sir Francis Bacon With a Table of the Colours Of Good & Evil. Whereunto is added The Wisdom of the Antients. Enlarged by the Honourable Author himself; and now more exactly Published; London; Printed by M. Clark, for Samuel Mearne John Martyn and Henry Herringman MDCLXXX 1680 —Essays Tegg’s miniature edition. 12mo., with an engraving of Envy, and an engraved title; old calf, rebacked 1810 —The Essays … and Wisdom of the Ancients. Edited by b. Montagu. Post 8vo., 1840 —Bacon’s Essays: with Annotations by Richard Whately. 1856 —The Essays, with the Wisdom of the Ancients. Notes by S.W. Singer. 1857 —Bacon’s Essays and Colours of Good and Evil, with Notes and Glossarial Index by W. Aldis Wright. 1862. Presentation copy to Spedding from the editor, with inscription. —Bacon’s Essays with Introduction, Notes, and Index, by E.A. Abbott. 2 vols., 12mo., cloth 1876 —A Harmony of the Essays. etc. of Francis Bacon. Arranged by Edward Arber. Cr. 8vo., bds 1871 —Saggi Morali Del Signore Francesco Bacono Con vn’altro suo Trattato Della sapienza Degli Antichi. Tradotti in Italiano. In Londra Appresso di Giovanni Billio. 1618. First edition of the Essays in Italian —Saggi Morali Opera nuoua Corretta dal Sig. Cavalier Andrea Cioli Et vn trattato della Sapienza Degl’ Antichi in Fiorenza, M.DC.XIX. Appresso Pietro Cecconcelli, 1619. First Edition of the Essays printed in Italy. Presentation copy with inscription: “To James Spedding Esq. from John Forster London 12th July 1852.” —Fr. Baconi De Verulamio Sermones Fideles, Ethici, Politici, Economici: Sive Interiora Rerum. Accedunt Faber Fortunæ Colores Boni Et Mali, & Lungd. Batavorum, Apud Franciscum Hackum A. 1659. The “Epsitola Dedicatoria” is addressed to George, Duke of Buckingham, Lord High Admiral of England —The Felicity of Queen Elizabeth And Her Times, With other Things; By Francis Ld Bacon London, Printed by T. Newcomb, for George Latham 1651 This very rare little volume also contains Burleigh’s Advice to Queen Elizabeth. A different translation appeared in Resuscitatio, 1657 564 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

—The Historie Of The Raigne Of King Henry The Seuenth. Written By Francis, Lord Verulam, Viscount St. Alban. London, Printed by W. Stansby, for Matthew Lownes, and William Barret 1622 First Edition —Bacon’s History of the Reign of King Henry VII. With notes by J.R. Lumby. Cr 8vo., 1876 —Franc. Bacon Historia Regni Henrici Septimi Angliæ Regis Opus Vere Politicum. Lugd. Batavor. Apud Franc. Hackium. Anno 1647 —Francisci Baronis De Verulamio Historia Naturalis Et Experimentalis Ad Condendam Philosophiam: Sive, Phænomena Vniversi: Quæ est Instaurationis Magnæ Pars Tertia. Londini, In Offi cina Io. Haviland, impensis Mathæi Lownes & Guilielmi Barret 1622 —Francisci Baronis De Verulamio … Historia Vitæ & Mortis. Sive, Titulus Secundus in Historiâ Naturali & Experimentali ad condendam Philosophiam: Quæ est Instaurationis Magnæ Pars Tertia. Londini, In Offi cina Io. Haviland, impensis Matthaei Lownes. 1623 The two preceding items comprise the First Editions of two of the four sections of the third part of the Instauratio Magna, namely, the Historia Ventorum and the Historia Vitæ et Mortis. The other two parts, the Historia Densi et Rari and the Sylva Sylvarum, did not appear during Bacon’s lifetime. —Francisci Baronis De Verulamio Historia Vitæ & Mortis. Lugduni Batavorum, Ex offi cinâ Ioannis Maire. CIoIoCXXXVI 1636 —The Historie of Life and Death. With Observations Naturall and Experimentall for the Prolongation of Life. Written by Francis Lord Verulam London: Printed by I. Okes, for Humphrey Mosley 1638 —History Naturall and Experimentall Of Life and Death. Or Of the Prolongation of Life. Written in Latine by Francis Lo. Verulam London, Printed by Iohn Haviland for William Lee, and Humphrey Mosley. 1638. A different translation from the preceding. —History Natural and Experimental Of Life & Death: Or, Of the Prolongation of Life. Written in Latin by Francis Lord Verulam London, Printed for William Lee 1669 —Fr. Baconi De Verulamio Historia Naturalis & Experimentalis De Ventis, &c. Lugd. Batavorum, Apud Franciscum Hackium. A° 1648. —Francisci De Verulamio … Instauratio magna. Londini Apud Joannem Billium Typographum Regium. Anno 1620. First Edition. It is “the greatest of all his works, and the central pile of that edifi ce of philosophy on which the world has bestowed his name. The Novum Organum was received with unbounded applause of the learned, both in his own and foreign nations, and placed the fame of its author at once above that of every other living author.” Within the lower cover, Spedding has written a note with regard to the last leaf of the fi rst impression of the “Novum Organum.” Lochithea 565

—Franc. Baconis Novum Organum Scientiarum. Editio Seccunda Amstelædami Sumptibus Joannis Ravesteinij. Anno 1660. —The Novum Organum, or a True Guide to the Interpretation of Nature. A new Translation by G.W. Kitchin. 8vo., cloth Oxford, 1855 —Francisci de Verulamio Novum Organum. Edited, with Notes, by J.S. Brewer. 1856 —Bacon’s Novum Organum. Edited, with introd., Notes, etc., by T. Fowler. 8vo., cloth Oxford, 1878. This volume contains an inscription addressed to Spedding from the Editor. —Letters of Sr Francis Bacon Augmented with several Memoires which were never before published. The Whole being illustrated by an historical introduction Edited by R. Stephens. 4to., large paper, Cambridge calf 1702 —Letters and Remains of the Lord Chancellor Bacon. Collected by Robert Stephens. 1734. On the title-page is the signature: “F. Wrangham 1815.” —the same. Second edition. 1736. This copy has numerous MS. annotations by John Cranch. —The Naturall And Experimentall History of Winds, &c. written in Latine by Francis Lo: Verulam Translated into English by R.G. Gent. London, printed for Humphrey Moseley and Tho. Dring 1653 —Novum Organum—see Instauratio Magna. —The Two Bookes of Francis Bacon. Of the profi cience and advancement of Learning, divine and humane. To the King. At London. Printed for Henry Tomes 1605. First edition. “In this indeed, the whole of the Baconian philosophy may be said to be implicitly contained, except, perhaps, the second book of the “Novum Organum.” —The Two Bookes of Sr Francis Bacon. Of the Profi cience and Advancement of Learning London: Printed for William Washington 1629 —The Two Bookes of Sr Francis Bacon. Of the Profi cience and Advancement of Learning Oxford: Printed by I.L for Thomas Huggins. 1633. With permission of B. Fisher. —Of the Advancement And Profi cence of Learning IX Bookes Written in Latin by Francis Bacon Interpreted by Gilbert Wats Oxford. Printed by Leon: Lichfi eld cIcIccxL. 1640 —Of the Advancement of Learning Written in Latin by Francis Bacon Interpreted by Gilbert Wats. London, printed for Thomas Williams 1674. —The Advancement of Learning. Edited by W. Aldis Wright. 1869 —Opuscula Varia Posthuma, Philosophica, Civilia, Et Theologica, Francisci Baconi, Nunc primum Edita. Cura & Fide Guilielmi Rawley. Vna cam Nobilissimi Auctoris Vita. Londoni, Ex Offi cina r. Danielis, 1658 566 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

—Opuscula Varia Posthuma, Philosophica, Civilia, Et Theologica, Francisci Baconi, Nunc primum Edita. Cura & Fide Guilielmi Rawley. Vna cam Nobilissimi Auctoris Vita. Accessit & ejusdem Auctoris. Dialogues de Bello Sacro. Amstelodami, Apud Johannem Ravesteinium, anno M.DC.LXIII. 1663 —A publication of his Majesties Edict, against Private combats whether within his Highnesse dominions, or without. Imprinted at London by Robert Barker, Anno 1613. On the fl yleaf there is a long note by Spedding 6/2/1868, wherein he explains his belief that his publication was written by the Earl of Northampton although it is usually ascribed to Bacon. —The Remaines of Francis Lord Verulam, being Essayes and several Letters to several great personages, and other pieces of high concernment not heretofore published. London, printed by B. Alsop, for Lawrence Chapman, 1648 —Resuscitatio, or bringing into publick light severall pieces of the works, civil historical, philosophical, & theological, hitherto sleeping; of Francis Bacon together with his lordships life. By William Rawley, London printed by Sarah Griffi n, for William Lee. 1657 —Resuscitatio the second edition some-what enlarged. By William Rawley, London printed by Sarah Griffi n, for William Lee. 1661 —Resuscitatio the third edition, London printed by Sarah Griffi n, for William Lee. 1671 —Francisci Baconi Scripta in naturali et universali philosophia. Amstelodami, apud Ludovicum Elzevirium, cIoIOCLIII. 1653 —Sylva Sylvarum or a natural history in ten centuries. Written by Francis Lo Verulam, published after the author’s death by W. Rawley. London printed for W. Lee, Anno 1627. —Sylva Sylvarum the second edition. London printed by J.H. for W. Lee. 1628 —the same. 1628 —Sylva Sylvarum written by Francis Lo Verulam, the fi fth edition. London printed by John Haviland, for W. Lee, 1639 —Sylva Sylvarum whereunto is newly added the history naturall and experimentall of life and death. Both written by Francis Lo Verulam. The seventh edition. London printed for W. Lee, and are to be sold by Thomas Williams, and William Place, 1658. —Sylva Sylvarum whereunto is newly added the history naturall and experimentall of life and death or of the prolongation of life. Published after the author’s death. By William Rawley. Whereunto is added articles of enquiry, touching metals and minerals. And the New Atlantis. 1670 —Francis, Lord Bacon, or the case of private and national corruption, and bribery, impartially consider’d. Byan Englishman. Third edition. 1721 Lochithea 567

—The life of Francis Bacon by Mr. Mallet. With an appendix containing several pieces not printed in the last edition of his Works. 1760 —Companion to the railway edition of Lord Campbell’s Life of Bacon. 1853 —Verulamiana, or opinious on men, manners, literature, politics and theology. To which is preﬁ xed a life of the author by the editor. 1803 —A collection of 9 engraved portraits of Lord Bacon, including a mezzotint after Cornelius Johnson. A parcel. —A vindication of the Lord Chancellor Bacon from the aspersion of injustice, cast upon him by Mr. Wraynham. 1725

BAKER (Sir Richard) A Chronicle of the Kings of England. 1696

BEDELL. The Life and Death of William Bodell. 1872

BIRCH (J) Military memoir of Colonel John Birch. 1873

BIRCH (Thomas) Historical view of the negotiations between the Courts of England, France, and Brussels, 1592–1617. 1749 —Memoirs of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth from 1581 till her death. From original papers of Anthony Bacon and other MSS. 1754

BRISTOL the maire of Bristowe is Kalendar, by Robert Ricart, town clerk of Bristol. 1872

BRYDGES (Gary) Lord Chandos? Observations and Discourses. 1620

BUCHANAN (George) Rerum Scoticarum Historia. 1643

CABALA 1654–1663

CABALA second edition 1691

CAMDEN (William) The History of Elizabeth 1630 —V. Cl Gulielmi Camdeni 1691

CAMDEN (William) Annales 1717

CAMDEN MISCELLANY 1875 568 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

CAMDEN SOCIETY Descriptive catalogue of the ﬁ rst series of the Works of the Camden Society. 1872

CANTERBURY Christ Church letter. 1877

CARLETON (George) A thankful remembrance of God’s mercy 1630

CASTIGLIONE The courtier of Count Baldessar Castilio 1588

CECIL (Sir Edward) The government of Ireland under the … 1588

CHAMBERLAIN (John) Letters 1861

CHAMBERS (Robert) The life of King James the First 1830

CHANCERY (High Court of) Orders in Chancery 1656

CHAPEL ROYAL the old cheque book 1872

COKE (Sir Edward) Laws of England 1671

COLLINS (Arthur) Letters and memorials of State in the Reigns of Queen Mary. 1746

COMMONS (House of) A record of some worthie proceedings. 1641. Debates in the House of Commons 1625 Edited by Gardiner 1873

CONESTAGIO (Jerome) History of the Uniting of the Kingdoms, 1600

COUSIN (Richard) Conspiracy for pretended reformation, 1592

COTTON (Sir R) The danger wherein the Kingdoms now standeth, 1628

COTTONIAN MSS. Catalogue of the MSS in the Cottonian Library, 1802

COWELL (John) The Interpreter, 1607

CRAIK (G.L.) Bacon, 1846-7

CROMPTON (R.) The copy of a letter to the Earl of Leycester, 1586 Lochithea 569

CROMWELL (Oliver) Oliver Cromwell and his Times, 1821

DALLINGTON (Robert) A method for travel, 1598

DALRYMPLE (David) Memorials of letters relating to the history of Britain, 1766

DANGERFIELD (Thomas) Narrative of the late Popish design, 1679

DEVEREUX (Hon W.B.) Lives and Letters, 1853

D’EWES (Sir Simonds) The Authobiography and Correspondence of Sir Simonds D’Ewes, 1845 —College life in the times of James the First, 1851 —The journals of all the parliaments during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 1682

DIXON (W. Hepworth) Personal History of Lord Bacon, 1861 —The story of Lord Bacon’s life, 1862

DOLEMAN (R.) A conference about the next succession, 1594

EGERTON (Sir Thos.) The Lord Chancellor Egerton, 1840

EGERTON PAPERS 1840

ELIZABETH (Queen) 1595

ELIZABETH (Queen) and James VI. 1849

ESSEX (R.D) An apology of the Earl of Essex, 1603 —A decelration of the practices and treasons, 1601

ESTIENNE (Henri) Apophthegmata, 1568

FINETT (Sir John) Finetti philoxenis, 1656

FISCHER (Kuno) Francis Bacon, 1857

FLEET PRISON. The economy of the Fleete, 1879 570 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

FORTESCUE PAPERS (The) 1871

FRANCISCO DE JESUS. Narrative of the Spanish marriage, 1869

GARNETT (Henry) A true and perfect relation, 1606

GREENE (Robert) Pandosto, 1588

GREVIL (Sir Faulke) The life of Sir Philip Sidney, 1652

GUICCIARDINI (F) History of Guicciardin, 1618

HARINGTON (W.) History of Edward the Fourth, 1640

HACKET (John) Scrinia Reserata, 1693

HALKETT The Autobiography of Lady Halkett, 1875

HALLIWELL-PHILIPPS (J.O.) Memoranda on the Tragedy of Hamlet, 1879

HAMILTON PAPERS. 1880

HARGRAVE MSS. 1818

HARLEIN MSS. 1808–1812

HARPSFIELD (N) Treatise on the pretended divorce between Henry VIII and C. Aragon, 1878

HARRISON (William) England in Shakspere’s youth, 1877

HATTON Correspondence of the Hatton family, 1601–1704

HAYWARD (Sir John) Annals, 1858

HENRY VII. Memorials, 1858 —The Will of King Henry VII, 1775

HOOKE (Robert) Philosophical Experiments, 1726 Lochithea 571

HOWARD State Papers, 1758

HUNTER (Joseph) Shakespeare’s Tempest, 1839

INGLEBY (C.M.) Shakespeare’s century of praise, 1879

JAMES I. The Works, 1616 —An Apology, 1609 —Iacobi Primi, 1604 —Booke of Proclamations, 1609 —The Connexion, 1681 —Correspondence, 1861 —Court and Character, 1847 —Court of James, 1620 —The Essayes, 1814 —His Majesties Speech, 1605 —Memorials, 1766 —Ofﬁ ce of General Remembrancer, 1617 —Orders Appointed, 1622 —True law of free monarchies, 1603

JOHNSTON (Robert) Historia, 1655

LANSDOWNE MSS. 1819

LEICESTER (Robert Earl of) Correspondence, 1844

LETTERS. Great Merit Triumphant, 1749 —England and Germany, 1865–68 —Letters and Papers, 1673-4 —Letters from London, 1673-4 —Letters written by eminent persons, 1813 572 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

LLOYD (David) State-Worthies, 1670

LORDS (House of) Notes, 1870

LYDGATE (J.) and others, 1876

MACHIAVELLI (N) The Works, 1695

MANCHESTER (Earl of) and O. Cromwell, 1875

MARTIN (T) Character of Lord Bacon, 1835

MATHEWS (Sir Toby) Collection of letters, 1660

MILTON Essays, 1876

MONSON (Sir W) and H. Townsend, 1682

MURDIN (W) State Papers, 1759

NAPIER (Macvey) Philosophical writings of Bacon, 1818

NAUNTON (Sir Robert) Fragmenta Regalia, 1641

NICHOLS (John) Public Processions, 1823

NICOLAS (Sir Harris) Memoirs, 1847

NUCIUS Travels, 1841

OSBORNE (Francis) Works, 1673 —Historical Memoires, 1658-9

OXFORD Register of the visitors, 1881

PALMER (Herbert) Lord Bacon, 1865

PARLIAMENT DEBATES. 1610 Lochithea 573

PETYT (George) Lex Parliamentaria, 1690

PRIDEAUX (Humphrey) Letters, 1875

PRYNNE Documents and Proceedings, 1877

RALEIGH (Sir Walter) Abridgment, 1702 —Cabinet-Council, 1658 —Parliaments of England, 1628 —Walsingham’s manual, 1728

ROMEO AND JULIET of the New Shakspere Society, 1875–80

ST. PAUL’S CATHEDRAL Documents, 1880

SALTERN (George) Ancient Laws of Great Britain, 1607

SAWYER (Edmund) Memorials, 1725

SCOTT (Thomas) Vox Populi, 1620–24

SHAFTESBURY (Anthony) Characteristics of Men, 1749

SHAKESPEARE Comedies and Tragedies, 1807 —Allusion Books, 1874 —Life of Henry Fifth, 1880 —Memorials of Shakespeare, 1868 —Romeo and Juliet, 1874-5 —Shakspere. 1862-4 —Shakspeare Fabrications, 1859 —Shakspere Transaction, 1874-9 —Letter on Shakspere’s Authorship, 1876-8

SHAKESPEARE SOCIETY’S PAPERS. Vol 14, 1849 574 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

SHAKESPEARE (Wm) Two Noble Kinsmen, 1876

SHILLINGFORD Letters and Papers, 1871

SIDNEY (Sir Philip) Pembroke’s Arcadia, 1598

SPANISH MARRIAGE. 1615

SPEED (John) History of Great Britain, 1614

STANISLAUS Examen Catholicum 1607

STATE PAPERS. 1856-9

STOW (J) Annales, 1592

STUBBES (Philip). Anatomy of Abuses, 1877-9

TELL-TROTHES New Yeares Gift and the Passionate Morrice, 1876

TOWNSHEND (Heywood) Historical Collections, 1680

TRIALS. 1681 —A collection of the most remarkable trials of persons for High Treason, 1735

VILLIERS (George) Biographical Memoirs, 1819

WELWOOD (James) Memoirs, 1700

WHITELOCKE (Sir James) The rights of the people concerning impositions, 1658 —Liber Famelicus of Sir James Whitelocke, 1858

WILLS. Account of the executors of Richard, Bishop of London, 1874

WILLIAMS (Folkestone) Court and Times of James I., 1848

WOTTON (Sir Henry) A collection of lives, letters, poems, 1654 —The State of Christendom, 1657 Lochithea 575

WRIOTHESLEY (Chas) Chronicle of England, 1559

YORKE (Philip) Miscellaneous State Papers, 1778

ZOUCH (Thomas) Memoirs, 1809

The Northumberland Manuscript

By Mr. ffrauncis William Shakespeare.

Contents i. Of Tribute, or giving what is due, by Francis Bacon ii. Of Magnanimitie, by Francis Bacon iii. Advertisement touching private censure, by Francis Bacon iv. Advertisement touching the controversies of the Church, by Francis Bacon v. Letter to a French gentleman touching the proceedings in England in Ecclesiastical causes, by Francis Bacon vi. Speeches for a Device presented a.d. 1595, by Francis Bacon vii. Speech of the Earl of Sussex viii. Letter from Sir Philip Sidney to Queen Elizabeth on her proposed marriage to the Duke of Anjou ix. Leicester’s Commonwealth

It is duly noted by Frank J. Burgoyne in his introduction of the collotype facsimile & type transcript of an Elizabethan manuscript preserved at Alnwick Castle, Northumberland, printed by Longmans, Green, and Co, 1904, that “the manuscript was written not later than January, 1597.” The complete manuscript can be downloaded courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org).

1591 Francis Bacon age 30 William Shakespeare age 27 Essex becomes his pupil 576 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

1592 Francis Bacon age 31 William Shakespeare age 28 Essex becomes his patron A Conference of Pleasure is written (published 1870) Spanish prose Diana by Montemayor (c.1521–61) translated into English by Yonge. Two Gentlemen of Verona partly based on it Robert Greene’s attack on Shakespeare Nothing heard on Shakespeare till this point from 1585 (7 years); April 1616 Shakespeare dies, and 7 years after (1623 his works are given to the world in the ﬁ rst folio

1593 Francis Bacon age 32 William Shakespeare age 29 Venus & Adonis dedicated to Southampton Sonnets written

1594 Francis Bacon age 33 William Shakespeare age 30 Dr. Roderigo Lopez hanged for conspiracy in a plot to kill Queen Elizabeth I. Lord Bacon wrote an extensive report on the case Rape of Lucrece published and dedicated to Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton Writes the Promus Christmas revels of Gray’s Inn performs The Comedy of Errors, based on The Menaechmi by Plautus (c.254–184 bc) Lord Chamberlain’s Men formed Lochithea 577

1595 Francis Bacon age 34 William Shakespeare age 31 Member of the Chamberlain Men

1596 Francis Bacon age 35 William Shakespeare age 32 Eluded tax payments; threatens W. Wayte, stepson of W. Gardiner, a gangster John Shakespeare [father] buys a coat of arms; moto Non Sanz Droict [Not Without Right]

1597 Francis Bacon age 36 William Shakespeare age 33 NORTHUMBERLAND MANUSCRIPT DATED TO HAVE BEEN WRITTEN JANUARY 1597 Acquires a mansion (May 4th) First edition of 10 Essays published with Colours of Good and Evil, and Religious Meditations A hazardous situation arose, in which the play Richard II was involved Infatuated with Elizabeth Hatton Becomes MP for Ipswich Reprint of 10 Essays Thomas Nash jailed for Isle of Dogs Love’s Labour’s Lost is acted where the word honoriﬁ cabilitudinitatibus is used 578 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

1598 Francis Bacon age 37 William Shakespeare age 34 NO PLAYS PRINTED PRIOR 1598 BARE THE NAME SHAKESPEARE Arrested for debts Principal actor to Ben Jonson’s play, Every Man in his Humour Lends money to acquaintances with high interest rates Prepares a Bill for replacing the yeoman on the soil from which he has been driven that passes with some modiﬁ cation of title and clause by Coke Queen Elizabeth I., offers him a third estate: the rectory and church at Cheltenham, with the Chapel at Charlton Kings Sir John Smyth is liberated on bond; Essex himself coming forward as the traitor’s friend and surety Elizabeth Hatton marries Coke Probes a mysterious crime: Valentine Thomas Writes a pamphlet about a Jesuit conspiracy against Queen Elizabeth I. Reprint of 10 Essays Spanish prose Diana by Montemayor (c.1521–61) published with translation into English by Yonge. Two Gentlemen of Verona partly based on it Francis Meres praises Shakespeare in a book entitled Palladis Tamia: Wit’s Treasury Parnassus Plays acted at St. John’s College, Cambridge Lochithea 579

1599 Francis Bacon age 39 William Shakespeare age 35 Essex sets out for Ireland Richard II involved in a book based on the play had been published by a young doctor of civil law, John Hayward, a friend of both Essex and Bacon, which in its preface likened Essex to Bolingbroke and seemed to exhort Essex to rise up against the Queen and usurp the throne Takes over The Globe Theatre with others; avoids tax payments Henry Nevill Ambassador to Paris Thomas Nash uses the word honoriﬁ cabilitudinitatibus in a pamphlet Lenten Stuffe Parnassus Plays acted at St. John’s College, Cambridge The Passionate Pilgrim published

1600 Francis Bacon age 40 William Shakespeare age 36 Becomes a Double Reader at Gray’s Inn, an extraordinary honour for one so young Claims high rates on a loan through a court case; tax evasion is mentioned; Bishop of Winchester Excuses Essex’s actions to the royal ear Writes a sonnet to Queen Elizabeth I. Hayward is arrested; Lord Bacon is sent to draw up articles against him 580 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Law Sports at Grey’s Inn

Quotes from Basil Brown’s Introductory to Law Sports at Gray’s Inn, 1921:

“It has been shown that the names of Francis Bacon and William Shakespeare have been linked together as early as 1594–1597, in the Northumberland Manuscript, and these super- eminent men are again brought into close touch in the Gesta Grayorum.”

“It is my belief that Shakespeare’s friend was Francis Bacon. Young Bacon could have aided Shakespeare in the use of the legal terms we fi nd so plentifully sprinkled through Hamlet. It follows therefore that through Bacon’s infl uence Shakespeare fi rst secured an entrance to the theatre, and afterwards, through the same power, became on of the Lord Chamberlain’s Servants. Up to the time of the Gesta Grayorum, in fact up to 1598, the Shakespeare plays had appeared anonymously, but on the very day on which the Comedy of Errors was performed at Gray’s Inn, Shakespeare’s name is for the fi rst time recorded among the Lord Chamberlain’s Servants.”

“April 1593, William Shakespeare’s name for the ﬁ rst time appeared in print, appended to a dedication to what the poet called “the ﬁ rst heir of my invention” Venus and Adonis. His second poem, Lucrece, came out in May 1594, with his name again appended to a dedication to the same Earl of Southampton. Without the authority of Bishop Whit-gift, who had been Bacon’s tutor at Cambridge, Venus and Adonis and Lucrece could not have been published.” Author’s Epilogue

My Lord Verulam’s Death

I remain a disbeliever that my Lord Verulam suffered the natural causes of nature upon his deathbed. This eminent person was a mentor concerning experiments of nature, and especially to cold and heat. Here is an extract from one of these experiments from his Sequela Chartarum: “Cold maketh bones of living creatures more fragile. Cold maketh living creatures to swell in the joints, and the blood to clot, and turn more blue. Cold maketh the arteries and fl esh more asper and rough. Cold causes rheums and distillations by compressing the brain, and laxes by like reason. Meat will keep from putrifying longer in frosty weather, than at other times.” His conclusions of such an experiment allows one to question his actions, and why he would repeat a similar experiment in 1626 that already had a resolution as seen in the extract. In continuance, when we are told that Lord Bacon had to turn to the Arundel Estate, upon a sudden fi t, he allowed himself to be placed in a bed that had not been used for some time and under damp sheets. But let us remember Lord Bacon’s History of Dense and Rare; No. 13 and of “Linen in houses (where there is no fi re) collects damp, so as to steam on being placed near the fi re.” My Lord Verulam’s fi rst Will and Testament was prepared and signed on April 10, 1621; executors were Mr. Thos. Crew, Mr. Thos. Hedley, Mr. John Finch, Mr. John Young (servant) and Mr. William Hatcher (servant). Supervisor, Justice Hutton. The revised second Will and Testament was prepared and signed on December 19, 1625; executors were Sir Humphrey Maye, Chancellor of his Majesty’s Duchy of Lancaster, Mr. Justice Hutton, Sir Thomas Crewe, Sir Francis Barnham, Sir John Constable, and Sir Euball Thelwall. Supervisor, the Duke of Buckingham. Only Thomas Crew remained executor in both Wills. Of other differences between the old and new Will and Testament, are as follows:

581 582 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Burial and funeral Initial Will and Testament, 1621 Revised Will and Testament, 1625 That his body be buried obscurely That his body be buried in St. Michael’s Church (St. Albans) and the funeral not to exceed £300

At the age of 60, he wished to be buried in the dark, out of sight, in one way or another. This was a tormenting time for my Lord Verulam; he had just been charged with bribery. Four years later, at the age of 64, his views change; his health would have been his priority. He chooses where to be buried, not beside his brother in St Olave’s Church, Hart Street, but beside his mother, in St. Michael’s and also gives the amount for his funeral not to exceed £300. It should be reminded that in October 1681, “it rang over all of St. Albans that Sir Harbottle Grimston, Master of the Rolles, had removed the cofﬁ n of this most renowned Lord Chancellor to make room for his own to lie in the vault there at St. Michael’s Church.” I may conclude that Dave, from the Verulamium Museum (See Introduction) indeed had “a story that he [Bacon] ain’t buried here.” Lord Bacon had the notion of death, no closer to him, than death itself had on where his body should be buried.

Unpublished compositions or fragments of them Initial Will and Testament, 1621 Revised Will and Testament, 1625 That his servant Harris delivers them to his brother Constable That his servant Henry Percy delivers them to his brother Constable

Lord Bacon’s trust in his servant Harris diminished within four years. His favourite servant now seems to be Henry Percy. Many biographers refer to Lady Anne Bacon’s dislike for “bloody Percy and his Welshmen.” Not much has been found in remaining documents regarding the character named Henry Percy, except what we are given by my Lord Verulam himself: that he trusted Percy to such an extent, he was willing to offer his unpublished manuscripts to him so they be delivered to Constable. Lochithea 583

Unpublished compositions or fragments of them Initial Will and Testament, 1621 Revised Will and Testament, 1625 In felicem memoriam Reginæ Elizabethæ be published In felicem memoriam Reginæ Elizabethæ be published

Lord Bacon’s wish for this compoisition to be published in 1621, remains in 1625. This may reveal to the Reader that my Lord Verulam still held in good memory Queen Elizabeth I., even though she did not further his advancement during her reign. Personally, I doubt she had the attitude to scheme against Lord Bacon’s downfall as King James I., had. Her quality of stature and character may have possibly proved itself through Lord Bacon’s thoughts, and time itself. Are not a man’s best moments derived from his acquaintances?

Books Initial Will and Testament, 1621 Revised Will and Testament, 1625 To be given to Constable and his servant Harris Mr. Bosvile (friend) should take care of all writings (English and Latin), books fair bound, and to place them in the King’s library, the library of the University of Cambridge, the library of Trinity College, the library of Bennet College, the library of the University of Oxonford, the library of Lord Canterbury, and the library of Eaton Another instance where we see loss of trust from his servant Harris, and possibly toward Constable, since Lord Bacon now wishes that two of his executors, Constable and Mr. Bosvile, to take into their hands all papers whatsoever, which are either in cabinets, boxes, or presses, and them to seal up until they may at their leisure peruse them 584 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Belongings for Alice Barnham Initial Will and Testament, 1621 Revised Will and Testament, 1625 To his wife a box of rings Whatsoever was assured to her, or mentioned or intended to be assured to her by any former deed, be it either lands in Hertfordshire, or the farm of the seal, or the gift of goods in accomplishment of the covenants of marriage. Also: the ordinary stuff at Gorhambury wainscot tables stools bedding the rich hangings with their covers the table-carpets the long cushions all other stuff which was or is used in the long gallery a rich chair [his niece Cæsar’s gift] the armour all tables of marble and touch four coach geldings his best caroache her own coach mares and caroache the one-half of the rent which was reserved upon Read’s lease for her life and the making of her of competent abilities to maintain the estate of a Viscountess. That Gorhambury and lands in Hertfordshire, will be worth to her £700 per annum, besides woodfells, and the leases of the houses, whereof £500 per annum only as was tied unto by covenants upon marriage.

Within four years, my Lord Verulam turns from a box of rings to all of his covenants of marriage and bequeaths them to his wife, Alice Barnham. Here rests an elegant change, well worth standing upon; at closure of this second Will and Testament, are these words: “Whatsoever I have given, granted, conﬁ rmed, or appointed to my wife, in the former part of this my Will, I do now, for just and great causes, utterly revoke and make void, and leave her to her right only.” Lochithea 585

The Will is signed in the presence of William Rawley, Ro. Halpeny, Stephen Paise, Will. Atkins, Thomas Kent, and Edward Legge. Should his wife have known about this last change, I cannot say; it is doubtful: one of the executors was Sir Francis Barnham, and not the barer of any witness to this last part of the Will. I may comment that she no doubt knew of the middle section of the Will, and of the major change from a box of rings to a massive bequeathment to her person. Should anyone have a strong motive to eliminate my Lord Verulam, it was Alice Barnham who held two strong motives: her affair with John Underhill and this new inheritance.

Curious material Initial Will and Testament, 1621 Revised Will and Testament, 1625 Marquis Fiatt, late Lord Ambassador of France, his books of orisons [prayers] or psalms curiously rhymed

Of “psalms curiously rhymed” I cannot imagine what my Lord Verulam must have been referring to; nor have I seen James Spedding comment on any psalm in this detail. There is no such mention of these psalms in his initial Will in 1621. Many have mentioned that they were the Shakespearean Sonnets … possibly. See Author’s Epilogue-Promus.

Legacies to Tobie Matthew and servants Initial Will and Testament, 1621 Revised Will and Testament, 1625 Sir Toby Matthews, some ring, to be bought for him, of the value of £30 Robert Halpeny (servant) £400, and the one-half of provisions of hay, ﬁ rewood, and timber Stephen Paise (servant) £350, and the bed with the appurtenances, bed linen and apparel-linen, as shirts, pillow-biers, sheets, caps, handkerchiefs, etc Wood (servant) £330, with all apparel, as doublets, hose; and to his wife £10 Francis Edney (servant) £200 and the rich gown Troughton (servant) £100 Dr. Rawleigh (Chaplain) £100 Welles (servant) £100 586 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Fletcher (servant) £100 and his brother (servant) £10 Mrs. Wagstaffe (his wife’s late waiting- gentlewoman) £100 Morrice Davis (servant) £100 John Bayes (servant) £100 Woder (servant) three score and ten pounds Guilman (servant) three score pounds Faldo (servant) £40 London (coachman) £40 Harsnep (groom) £40 Abraham (footman) £40 Smith (bailiff) and his wife £40 Bowes (servant) £30 Atkins (servant) £30 Thomas Gotherum (servant) £30 Plomer (servant) £20 Daty (cook) £20 Henry Brown (servant) £20 Richard Smith (servant) £20 William Sayers (servant) £10 John Large (servant) £20 Smith (goodwife) £10 Peter Radford’s wife £5 Every mean servant that attends me, and is not already named, £5

In my Lord Verulam’s initial Will and Testament in 1621, he wished his “servants declared by writing or word before witnesses, to be shared amongst them the amount of £800.” The above amounts, in his revised Will, tend to go beyond £2.000. I may ask: why were two of his servants, Robert Halpeny and Stephen Paise, bequeathed the highest amount? Could this be a gift for silence, that Alice Barnham not learn of a last minute change in the Will? “Whatsoever I have given, granted, conﬁ rmed, or appointed to my wife, in the former part of this my Will, I do now, for just and great causes, utterly revoke and make void, and leave her to her right only.” Lochithea 587

It is plausible, since the Will was also signed in the presence of these two servants, and it would have been a delightful inheritence for a servant in the 1600’s, from a master who was at the aging years of sixty-four. Such silence gifts went a very, very long way.

The Capias Utlagatum

Allow me to refresh your memory patient Reader, when Coke spoke these very intricate words, capias utlagatum, in 1601 when my Lord Verulam was 40 years of age:

Mr. Attorney kindled at it and said: “Mr. Bacon, if you have any tooth against me, pluck it out, for it will do you more hurt than all the teeth in your head will do you good.” I answered coldly, in these very words: “Mr. Attorney, I respect you; I fear you not: and the less you speak of your own greatness, the more I will think of it.” He replied: “I think scorn to stand upon terms of greatness towards you, who are less than little; less than the least;” and other such strange light terms he gave me, with such insulting which cannot be expressed. Herewith I stirred, yet I said no more but this: “Mr. Attorney, do not depress me so far; for I have been your better, and may be again, when it please the Queen.” With this he spake, neither I nor himself could tell what, as if he had been born Attorney-General; and in the end bade me not meddle with the Queen’s business, but mine own … Then he said it were good to clap a capias utlagatum upon my back! To which I only said he could not, and that he was at fault; for he hunted upon an old scent. He gave me a number of disgraceful words besides, which I answered with silence.

“Capias utlagatum is derived from the Saxon utlaghe, the same root from which comes the word outlaw” as given to us in Jacobs’ Law Dictionary, vol. iv, p. 454 which continues, “Capias utlagatum is a writ that lies against a person who is outlawed in any action, by which the sheriff is commanded to apprehend the body of the party outlawed, for not appearing upon the exigent, and keep him in safe custody till the day of return, and then present him to the court, there to be dealt with for his contempt; who, in Common Please, was in former times to be committed to the Fleet, there to remain till he had sued out the King’s pardon and appeared to the action. And by a special capias utlagatum (against the body, lands and goods in the same writ) the sheriff is commanded to seize all the defendant’s lands, goods and chattels, for the contempt to the King; and the plaintiff (after an inquisition taken thereupon, and returned into the exchequer) may have the lands extended and a grant of the goods, etc., whereby to compel the defendant to appear; which, when he doth, if he reverse the outlawry, the same shall be restored to him.” And further, “Outlawry: Utlagaria. The being put out of the law. The loss of the benefi t of a subject, that is, of the King’s protection. Outlawry is a punishment infl icted for a contempt in refusing to be amenable to the justice of that court which hath authority to call a defendant before them; and as this is a crime of the highest nature, being an act of 588 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals rebellion against that state or community of which he is a member, so it subjects the party to forfeitures and disabilities, for he loses his liberam legem, is out of the King’s protection, etc.” It seems adequate to give Ignatius Donnelly’s opinion from his The Great Cryptogram, vol ii, p. 636–638 published in 1888: “When the Attorney-General, Coke, threatened Bacon with a capias utlagatum, he practically charged him with being an outlaw; with having refused to appear in some proceeding when called upon by the government’s law offi ces; with being, in short, out of the Queen’s protection; with having forfeited all his goods and chattels. But we know that Bacon never fl ed the country; that he always had real estate, which could have been seized upon if he had done so. What, then, did Coke mean? It was a serious charge for one respectable attorney to make against another. It will be observed that Bacon understands what Coke referred to. There was no surprised expressed by him, he knew there was some past event which gave colour to Coke’s threat, but he defi ed him. His answer was: to which I only said he could not, and that he was at fault; for he hunted up an old scent. And Bacon tells us Coke gave him a number of disgraceful words besides, but he is careful not to tell what they were. And it will be observed that while Bacon very often refers in his letters to bruits and scandals, which attack his good name, he never stops to explain the nature of them. Did they refer to the Shakespeare Plays? And observe too, how he lays this matter before Cecil … why should Bacon complain to his enemy, Cecil, about something his other enemy, Coke, said against him, concerning some threat to dig up an old matter and clap a writ of outlawry on his back?” This is all that Donnelly says about the threat. James Spedding believed this altercation between both men was due to Lord Verulam’s arrest for debts in 1598:

Events happening prior 1598 and around 1601 1592 Robert Greene’s attack on Shakespeare 1593 Venus & Adonis dedicated to Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton. The ﬁ rst time the name William Shakespeare appears in print 1593 Sonnets written 1594 Rape of Lucrece published and dedicated to Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of Southampton. Without the authority of Bishop Whit-gift, who had been Lord Bacon’s tutor at Cambridge, Venus and Adonis and Lucrece could not have been published 1594 Bacon writes his Promus 1594 Christmas revels of Gray’s Inn performs The Comedy of Errors, based on The Menaechmi by Plautus (c.254–184 bc) 1597 The Northumberland Manuscript was written not later than January of this year 1597 A hazardous situation arises, in which the Shakespeare play Richard II was involved 1597 Love’s Labour’s Lost is acted where the word honoriﬁ cabilitudinitatibus is used Lochithea 589

1598 Except for the Sonnets, no plays printed prior 1598 bare the name Shakespeare 1598 Lord Bacon is arrested for debts 1598 Francis Meres praises Shakespeare in a book entitled Palladis Tamia: Wit’s Treasury 1599 Richard II again stirs a tempest: This time a book based on the play had been published by a young doctor of Civil Law, John Hayward, a friend of both Essex and Lord Bacon, which in its preface likened Essex to Bolingbroke and seemed to exhort Essex to rise up against the Queen and usurp the throne 1599 Thomas Nash uses the word honoriﬁ cabilitudinitatibus in a pamphlet Lenten Stuffe 1600 Lord Bacon writes a Sonnet to Queen Elizabeth I. 1600 John Hayward is arrested and Lord Bacon is sent to draw up articles against him

The Albany Law Journal, vol. 42, 1890: “Although Bacon was badly in debt in and about the year 1598, any of his debts were allowed to outlaw. They had all been paid or compounded for in 1601. All we know of this threatened writ of capias utlagatum is contained in Bacon’s letter to Cecil. And Bacon merely mentioned it, as appears by the context, to show his kinsman [though his enemy] how Coke took every opportunity of insulting him. Had Bacon been amenable to a writ to issue from the Attorney-General of England, the suggestion by the mouth of the Attorney-General himself would not have been an insult; but a threat, a word to tremble at, or to turn to stone before. Sir Edward Coke was not a man to threaten when he could perform. He performed: nor did he send threats in advance of his performance. It was, as we have said, an insulting reference to Bacon’s early poverty, in the course of a little passage at arms between two men who perfectly understood their own and each other’s rights, powers, and privileges. Bacon turned it, not with an Apothegm (as he called his own ponderously witty speeches), but with a quiet, lawyer-like, and rather contemptuous admission, coupled with an allusion to Coke’s utter impotence in the matter. And that was all there was of it. Had Bacon quitted England on account of his authorship of the Shakespeare plays, not only Elizabeth, Coke, the judges at Essex’s trial who accept Bacon’s excuse for not taking a certain part in the prosecution, and the thirty or forty editors, publishers, printers, messengers, and go-betweens who printed that cipher-covering First folio Shakespeare—not only all these, but all England—would have known, about three hundred years ago the truth. I am strongly inclined to think, therefore, that Mr. Spedding’s incidental conjecture that Coke’s mention of the capias utlagatum in the recontre with Bacon, was an allusion to Bacon’s early poverty—is, undoubtedly, the fact of the matter. If otherwise, it would certainly be and remain a curiosity in the record that a future Lord Chancellor of England should have been at one time, in constructive breach of ban of the realm in whose affairs he was to sit in its highest judgment seat!” 590 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

And there I leave this matter. But it allows for some questions: Did Coke fi nally clap a capias utlagatum upon my Lord Verulam’s back which fi nally brought to his downfall? Had it anything to do, not with plays or poems, but with the rumour that Prince Henry, the fi rst-born to King James, was poisoned by Rochester, then James’ favourite? Or that Overbury would be driven “to extremities lest” he should “say something that” both Overbury and Rochester “should repent”? Or that Agnes Sampson, the wise woman of Keith, said she was to have taken King James’ life by anointing his linen with a strong poison in collaboration with Buckingham?

The Slow Poisoners

The murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, which disgraced the Court of James I., in the year 1613, is as follows, as printed in the Extraordinary Popular Delusions, vol. ii, 1852:

Robert Kerr, a Scottish youth, was early taken notice of by James I., and loaded with honours, for no other reason that the world could ever discover than the beauty of his person. James, even in his own day, was suspected of being addicted to the most abominable of all offences; and the more we examine his history now, [1800’s,] the stronger the suspicion becomes. However that may be, the handsome Kerr, lending his smooth cheek even in public to the disgusting kisses of his royal master, rose rapidly in favour. In the year 1613, he was made Lord High Treasurer of Scotland, and created an English peer by the style and title of Viscount Rochester. Still further honours were in store for him. In this rapid promotion he had not been without a friend. Sir Thomas Overbury, the King’s secretary—who appears, from some threats in his own letters, to have been no better than a pander to the vices of the King, and privy to his dangerous secrets—exerted all his backstair infl uence to forward the promotion of Kerr, [Rochester,] by whom he was doubtless repaid in some way or other. Overbury did not confi ne his friendship to this—if friendship ever could exist between two such men—but acted the part of an entremetteur, and assisted Rochester to carry on an adulterous intrigue with the Lady Frances Howard, the wife of the Earl of Essex. This woman was a person of violent passions, and lost to all sense of shame. Her husband was in her way, and to be freed from him she instituted proceedings for a divorce, on grounds, which a woman of any modesty or delicacy of feeling would die rather than avow. Her scandalous suit was successful, and was no sooner decided than preparations on a scale of the greatest magnifi cence were made for her marriage with Lord Rochester. Sir Thomas Overbury, who had willingly assisted his patron to intrigue with the Countess of Essex, seems to have imagined that his marriage with so vile a woman might retard his advancement. He accordingly employed all his infl uence to dissuade him from it; but Rochester was bent on the match, and his passions were as violent as those of the countess. On one occasion, when Overbury and the viscount were walking in the gallery of Whitehall, Overbury was overheard to say, “Well, my Lord, if you do marry that base Lochithea 591 woman, you will utterly ruin your honour and yourself. You shall never do it with my advice or consent; and if you do, you had best look to stand fast.” Rochester fl ung from him in a rage, exclaiming with an oath, “I will be even with you for this.” These words were the death warrant of the unfortunate Overbury. He had mortally wounded the pride of Rochester in insinuating that by his (Overbury’s) means he might be lowered in the King’s favour; and he had endeavoured to curb the burning passions of a heartless, dissolute, and reckless man. Overbury’s imprudent remonstrances were reported to the countess; and from that moment she also vowed the most deadly vengeance against him. With a fi endish hypocrisy, however, they both concealed their intentions; and Overbury, at the solicitation of Rochester, was appointed ambassador to the Court of Russia. This apparent favour was but the fi rst step in a deep and deadly plot. Rochester, pretending to be warmly attached to the interests of Overbury, advised him to refuse the embassy, which he said was but a trick [by whom?] to get him out of the way. He promised, at the same time, to stand between him and any evil consequences, which might result from his refusal [from the King.] Overbury fell into the snare, and declined the embassy. James, offended, immediately ordered his committal to the Tower. He was now in safe custody, and his enemies had opportunity to commence the work of vengeance. The fi rst thing Rochester did was to procure, by his infl uence at Court, the dismissal of the Lieutenant of the Tower, and the appointment of Sir Jervis Elwes, one of his creatures, to the vacant post. This man was but one instrument; and another being necessary, was found in Richard Weston, a fellow who had formerly been shopman to a druggist. He was installed in the offi ce of under-keeper, and as such had the direct custody of Overbury. So far all was favourable to the designs of the conspirators. In the mean time the insidious Rochester wrote the most friendly letters to Overbury, requesting him to bear his ill-fortune patiently, and promising that his imprisonment should not be a long duration; for that his friends were exerting themselves to soften the King’s displeasure. Still pretending the extreme of sympathy for him, he followed up the letters by presents of pastry and other delicacies, which could not be procured in the Tower. These articles were all poisoned. Occasionally, presents of a similar description were sent to Sir Jervis Elwes, with the understanding that these articles were not poisoned, when they were unaccompanied by letters: of these the unfortunate prisoner never tasted. A woman named Turner, who had formerly kept a house of ill-fame, and who had more than once lent it to further the guilty intercourse of Rochester and Lady Essex, was the agent employed to procure the poisons. They were prepared by Dr. Forman, a pretended fortune-teller of Lambeth, assisted by an apothecary named Franklin.

[Extract from The Charge Of Sir Francis Bacon, His Majesty’s Attorney General By Way Of Evidence, Before The Lord High Steward, And The Peers, Against Robert Earl Of Somerset, Concerning The Poisoning Of Sir Thomas Overbury: “First therefore, for the simple narrative of the fact. Sir Thomas Overbury, for a time was known to have had great interest and great friendship with my Lord of Somerset, both in his meaner fortunes, and after; insomuch as he was a kind of oracle of direction unto him; and if you will believe his own vaunts (being of an insolent Thrasonical disposition) he took upon him, that the fortune, reputation, 592 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals and understanding of this gentleman (who is well known to have had a better teacher) proceeded from his company and counsel. And this friendship rested not only in conversation and business of Court, but likewise in communication of secrets of Estate. For my Lord of Somerset, at that time, exercising (by his Majesty’s special favour and trust) the offi ce of the Secretary provisionally, did not forbear to acquaint Overbury with the King’s packets of dispatches from all parts, Spain, France, the Low Countries, &c. And this not by glimpses, or now and then rounding in the ear for a favour, but in a settled manner: packets were sent, sometimes opened by my Lord, sometimes unbroken unto Overbury, who perused them, copied, registered them, made tables of them as he thought good: so that I will undertake, the time was, when Overbury knew more of the secrets of State, than the Council table did. Nay, they were grown to such an inwardness, as they made a play of all the world besides themselves: so as they had ciphers and jargons for the King, the Queen, and all the great men; things seldom used, but either by Princes and their Ambassadors and Ministers, or by such as work and practice against, or at least upon Princes … the next link of the chain, was to displace the then Lieutenant Waade, and to place Helwisse, [Sir Jervis Elwes] a principal better in the impoisonment: again, to displace Cary, that was the under-keeper in Waade’s time, and to place Weston, who was the principal actor in the impoisonment: and this was done in such a while (that it may appear to be done, as it were with one breath) as there were but fi fteen days between the commitment of Overbury, the displacing of Waade, the placing of Helwisse, the displacing of Cary the under-keeper, the placing of Weston, and the fi rst poison given two days after … Then when they had this poor gentleman in the Tower close prisoner, where he could not escape nor stir; where he could not feed but by their hands, where he could not speak nor write but through their trunks; then was the time to execute the last act of this tragedy. Then must Franklin be purveyor of the poisons, and procure fi ve, six, seven several potions, to be sure to hit his complexion. Then must Mrs. Turner be the say-mistress of the poisons to try upon poor beasts, what’s present, and what works at distance of time! Then must Weston be the tormentor, and chase him with poison after poison, poison in salts, poison in meats, poison in sweetmeats, poison in medicines and vomits, until at last his body was almost come, by use of poisons, to the state that Mithridate’s body was by the use of treacle and preservatives, that the force of the poisons were blunted upon him.”]

Both these persons knew for what the poisons were needed, and employed their skill in mixing them in the pastry and other edibles, in such small quantities as gradually to wear out the constitution of their victim. Mrs. Turner regularly furnished the poisoned articles to the under-keeper, who laced them before Overbury. Not only his food but his drink was poisoned. Arsenic was mixed with the salt he ate, and cantharides with the pepper. All this time his health declined sensibly. Daily he grew weaker and weaker; and with a sickly appetite craved for sweets and jellies. Rochester continued to condole with him, and anticipated all his wants in this respect, sending him abundance of pastry, and occasionally partridges and other game, and young pigs. With the deuce for the game, Mrs. Turner mixed a quantity of cantharides, and poisoned the pork with lunar caustic. As stated in the trial, Overbury took in this manner poison enough to have poisoned twenty men; but his constitution was strong, and he still lingered. Lochithea 593

[Extract from The Charge Of Sir Francis Bacon, His Majesty’s Attorney General By Way Of Evidence, Before The Lord High Steward, And The Peers, Against Robert Earl Of Somerset, Concerning The Poisoning Of Sir Thomas Overbury: “Weston confessing, when he was chid for not dispatching him, that he had given him enough to poison twenty men. Lastly, because all this asked time, courses were taken by Somerset both to divert all means of Overbury’s delivery, and to entertain Overbury by continual letters, partly of hopes and projects for his delivery, and partly of other fables and negotiations; somewhat like some kind of persons (which I will not name) which keep men in talk of fortune-telling, when they have a felonious meaning. And this is the true narrative of this act of impoisonment, which I have summarily recited.”]

Franklin, the apothecary, confessed that he prepared with Dr. Forman seven different sorts of poisons, viz. aquafortis, arsenic, mercury, powder of diamonds, lunar caustic, great spiders, and cantharides. Overbury held out so long that Rochester became impatient, and in a letter to Lady Essex, expressed his wonder that things were not sooner despatched. Orders were immediately sent by Lady Essex to the keeper to ﬁ nish with the victim at once. Overbury had not been all this time without suspicion of treachery, although he appears to have had no idea of poison. He merely suspected that it was intended to conﬁ ne him for life, and to set the King still more bitterly against him. In one of his letters he threatened Rochester that unless he were speedily liberated, he would expose his villainy to the world. He says, “You and I, ere it be long, will come to a public trial of another nature.” … “Drive me not to extremities, lest I should say something that both you and I should repent.” … “Whether I live or die, your shame shall never die, but ever remain to the world, to make you the most odious man living.” … “I wonder much you should neglect him to whom such secrets of all kinds have passed.” … “Be these the fruits of common secrets, common dangers?”

[This is where I believe; however an assumption, Overbury would tell the world how Rochester had a helping hand in Prince Henry’s death.]

All these remonstrances, and hints as to the dangerous secrets in his keeping, were ill calculated to serve him with a man so reckless as Lord Rochester: they were more likely to cause him to be scarifi ed than to be saved. Rochester appears to have acted as if he thought so. He doubtless employed the murderer’s reasoning, that “dead men tell no tales,” when, after receiving letters of this description, he complained to his paramour of the delay. Weston was spurred on to consummate the atrocity; and the patience of all parties being exhausted, a dose of corrosive sublimate was administered to him in October, 1613, which put an end to his sufferings, after he had been for six months in their hands. On the very day of his death, and before his body was cold, he was wrapped up carelessly in a sheet, and buried without any funeral ceremony in a pit within the precincts of the Tower. The sudden death, the indecent haste of the funeral, and the non-holding of an inquest upon the body, strengthened the suspicions that were afl oat. Rumour, instead of whispering, began to speak out; and the relatives of the deceased openly expressed their belief that their kinsman had been murdered. But Rochester was still all-powerful at Court, and no one 594 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals dared to utter a word to his discredit. Shortly afterwards, his marriage with the Countess of Essex was celebrated with the utmost splendour, the King himself being present at the ceremony. It would seem that Overbury’s knowledge of James’ character was deeper than Rochester had given him credit for, and that he had been a true prophet when he predicted that his marriage would eventually estrange James from his minion. At this time, however, Rochester stood higher than ever in the royal favour; but it did not last long— conscience, that busy monitor, was at work. The tongue of rumour was never still; and Rochester, who had long been a guilty, became at last a wretched man. His cheeks lost their colour—his eyes grew dim; and he became moody, careless, and melancholy. The King, seeing him thus, took at length no pleasure in his society, and began to look about for another favourite. George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, was the man to his mind; quick-witted, handsome, and unscrupulous. The two latter qualities alone were suffi cient to recommend him to James I. in proportion as the infl uence of Rochester declined that of Buckingham increased. A falling favourite has no friends; and rumour wagged her tongue against Rochester louder and more pertinaciously than ever. A new favourite, too, generally endeavours to hasten by a kick the fall of the old one; and Buckingham, anxious to work the complete ruin of his forerunner in the King’s good graces, encouraged the relatives of Sir Thomas Overbury to prosecute their inquiries into the strange death of their kinsman. James was rigorous enough in the punishment of offences when he was not himself involved. He piqued himself, moreover, on his dexterity in unravelling mysteries. The affair of Sir Thomas Overbury found him congenial occupation. He set to work by ordering the arrest of Sir Jervis Elwes. James, at this early stage of the proceedings, does not seem to have been aware that Rochester was so deeply implicated. Struck with horror at the atrocious system of slow poisoning, the King sent for all the judges. The next person arrested was Weston, the under-keeper; then Franklin and Mrs. Turner; and lastly, the Earl and Countess of Somerset, to which dignity Rochester had been advanced since the death of Overbury. Weston was fi rst brought to trial. Public curiosity was on the stretch. Nothing else was talked of and the Court on the day of trial was crowded to suffocation.

[Extract from The Charge Of Sir Francis Bacon, His Majesty’s Attorney General By Way Of Evidence, Before The Lord High Steward, And The Peers, Against Robert Earl Of Somerset, Concerning The Poisoning Of Sir Thomas Overbury: “Weston is brought to trial for administering the poison, and stands mute. He is produced in Court again on the Monday and, acknowledging his deed, is condemned. He is hanged.]

The State Trials report, that Lord chief Justice Coke “laid open to the jury the baseness and cowardliness of poisoners, who attempt that secretly against which there is no means of preservation or defence for a man’s life; and how rare it was to hear of any poisoning in England, so detestable it was to our nation. But the devil had taught divers to be cunning in it, so that they can poison in what distance of space they please, by consuming the nati- vum calidum, or humidum radicale, in one month, two or three, or more, as they list, which they four manner of ways do execute, viz. haustu, gustu, odore, and contactu.” Lochithea 595

When the indictment was read over, Weston made no other reply than “Lord have mercy upon me!” On being asked how he would be tried, he refused to throw himself upon a jury of his country, and declared that he would be tried by God alone. In this he persisted for some time. the fear of the dreadful punishment for contumacy …

[The punishment for the contumacious was expressed by the words onere, frigore, et fame. By the ﬁ rst was meant, that the culprit should be extended on his back on the ground, and weights placed over his body, gradually increased, until he expired. Sometimes the punishment was not extended to this length, and the victim being allowed to recover, underwent the second portion, the frigore, which consisted in his standing naked in the open air, for a certain space, in the sight of all the people. The third, or fame, was more dreadful, the statute saying, “That he was to be preserved with the coarsest bread that could be got, and water out of the next sink, or puddle, to the place of execution; and that day he had water he should have no bread, and that day he had bread he should have no water;” and in this torment he was to linger as long as nature would hold out.]

… induced him at length to plead “Not guilty,” and take his trial in due course of law. All the circumstances against him were fully proved, and he was found guilty and executed at Tyburn. Mrs. Turner, Franklin, and Sir Jervis Elwes were also brought to trial, found guilty, and executed between the 19th of October and the 4th of December 1615; but the grand trial of the Earl and Countess of Somerset did not take place till the month of May following.

[Extract from The Charge Of Sir Francis Bacon, His Majesty’s Attorney General By Way Of Evidence, Before The Lord High Steward, And The Peers, Against Robert Earl Of Somerset, Concerning The Poisoning Of Sir Thomas Overbury: “After Somerset had his dinner he is examined at York House in the presence of the Chancellor, the Duke of Lennox, Zouche, and the Chief Justice of England. On Simon and Jude’s Day, he be examined again by the same men. Robert Cotton Baronet, is dismissed after examination. Lumsden a Scotsman, is imprisoned. Likewise Thomas Monson, as party to the poisoning, and Gervase Elwes, Governor of the Tower of London, is repeatedly examined. Edward Sackville, John Wentworth, Bannaret, and Sir John Lidcott are imprisoned, and afterwards Sir John Hollis, on account of questions placed to Weston while on the gallows. The Seal is taken from Somerset. By means of Wotton he is commanded to yield the staff, insignia of the Royal Chamberlain, and to present himself before the delegates, by whom he is committed to custody in the Tower of London, with George Moore appointed Governor of the Tower.]

On the trial of Sir Jervis Elwes, circumstances had transpired, showing a guilty knowledge of the poisoning on the part of the Earl of Northampton, the uncle of Lady Somerset, and the chief falconer Sir Thomas Monson. The former was dead; but Sir Thomas Monson was arrested and brought to trial. It appeared, however, that he was too dangerous a man to be brought to the scaffold. He knew too many of the odious secrets of James I., and his dying speech might contain disclosures which would compromise the King. To conceal 596 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals old guilt it was necessary to incur new: the trial of Sir Thomas Monson was brought to an abrupt conclusion, and himself set at liberty. Already James had broken his oath. He now began to fear that he had been rash in engaging so zealously to bring the poisoners to punishment. That Somerset would be declared guilty there was no doubt, and that he looked for pardon and impunity was equally evident to the King. Somerset, while in the Tower, asserted confi dently that James would not dare to bring him to trial. In this he was mistaken; but James was in agony. What the secret was between them will now never be known with certainty; but it may be surmised. Some have imagined it to be the vice to which the King was addicted; while others have asserted that it related to the death of Prince Henry, a virtuous young man, who had held Somerset in especial abhorrence. This Prince died early, unlamented by his father, and, as public opinion whispered at the time, poisoned by Somerset. Probably some crime or other lay heavy upon the soul of the King; and Somerset, his accomplice, could not be brought to public execution with safety. Hence the dreadful torture of James when he discovered that his favourite was so deeply implicated in the murder of Overbury. Every means was taken by the agonised King to bring the prisoner into what was called a safe frame of mind. He was secretly advised to plead guilty, [was this a usual circumstance used by King James I., and also employed upon Lord Bacon?] and trust to the clemency of the King. The same advice was conveyed to the Countess. Bacon was instructed by the King to draw up a paper of all the points of “mercy and favour” to Somerset which might result from the evidence; and Somerset was again recommended to plead guilty, and promised that no evil should ensue to him. The Countess was fi rst tried; she pleaded guilty and sentence of death was passed upon her. Next day, the earl was brought to trial. He appears to have mistrusted the promises of James, and he pleaded not guilty. With a self-possession and confi dence, which he felt probably from his knowledge of the King’s character, he rigorously cross-examined the witnesses, and made a stubborn defence. After the trial which lasted eleven hours he was found guilty, and condemned to the felon’s death. Whatever may have been the secrets between the criminal and the King, the latter, notwithstanding his terrifi c oath, was afraid to sign the death warrant. It might, perchance, have been his own. The Earl and Countess were committed to the Tower, where they remained for nearly fi ve years. At the end of this period, to the surprise and scandal of the community, and the disgrace of its chief magistrate, they both received the royal pardon, but were ordered to reside at a distance from the Court. Having been found guilty of felony, the estates of the Earl had become forfeited; but James granted him out of their revenues n income of £4.000 per annum. Shamelessness could go no further.

And so much for King James I’s reign of trickeries and devilries. Could there be any doubt in my mind that my Lord Verulam did not suffer impediment or a downfall, if you may, from this King and his favourite the Duke of Buckingham? Lochithea 597

Queen Elizabeth I., Lord Verulam’s Mother

There is a frontispiece portrait of my Lord Verulam that James Spedding comments upon in his Works, vol. xi: “The engraving which stands as frontispiece is a very correct representation of a bust belonging to the Earl of Verulam, to whose kindness I am indebted for permission to have a drawing made of it for this purpose, as well as for the facilities given to the artist. It is a coloured bust in terracotta, and is one of a set of three, done in the same style and material, and apparently by the same hand; said to be portraits of Sir Nicholas Bacon, Anne, his second wife, and their son Francis, when twelve years old. I regret that I could not learn anything more about them. They must have been done about the year 1572, by an artist of no ordinary skill, and have probably been at Gorhambury ever since. They show, among other things, that Bacon’s likeness was to his mother; a fact, I believe, not otherwise known.” There is no doubt that Spedding’s comment on the “likeness was to his mother” was toward Lady Anne Bacon and not Queen Elizabeth I. In 1975, Daphne du Maurier in her Golden Lads, offers a different approach to these coloured busts; she mentions under Lord Bacon’s painted terracotta bust that it is now thought possibly to be Anthony Bacon and not Francis Bacon. Alfred Dodd, a past Master of the Craft, believed that “there is, moreover, a greater mystery in Francis Bacon’s life than such biographers ever dreamed, a hidden life, the life of a man who was building great bases for Eternity to the glory of God and the good of humanity.” According to Lawrence Gerald, an interesting approach to prove if Lord Bacon was the son of Queen Elizabeth I., would be to obtain tmDNA samples from the bones of Elizabeth and also from Bacon. I ﬁ nd this a challenging venture to all scientists who would be willing to append their results to British History, should this be needed.

Lord Verulam, The Royal Intelligencer

There is an extract from Isaac Disraeli’s Curiosities of Literature, vol ii that I would like to add here: “There is a curious passage in a letter of Sir Thomas Bodley, recommending to Sir Francis Bacon, then a young man on his travels, the mode by which he should make his life “proﬁ table to his country and his friends.” His expressions are remarkable. “Let all these riches be treasured up, not only in your memory, where time may lessen your stock, but rather in good writings and books of account, which will keep them safe for your use hereafter.” By these good writings and books of account, he describes the diaries of a student and an observer; these “good writings” will preserve what wear out in the memory, and these “books of account” render to a man an account of himself to himself.” The letter that Disraeli comments upon, I add extracts below. The complete letter may be found in chapter Genesis of these Journals: 598 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Historical plays of William Shakespeare “Now for the world, I know it too well, to persuade you to dive into the practices thereof; rather stand upon your own guard, against all that attempt you there unto, or may practise upon you in your conscience, reputation, or your purse. Resolve, no man is wise or safe, but he that is honest: and let this persuasion turn your studies and observations from the complement and impostures of the debased age, to more real grounds of wisdom, gathered out of the story of times past, and out of the government of the present state.”

He [Shakespeare] drew a sponge over the table of human knowledge—Goethe “Your guide to this, is the knowledge of the country and the people among whom ye live; for the country though you cannot see all places, yet if, as you pass along, you enquire carefully, and further help your self with books that are written of the cosmography of those parts, you shall suffi ciently gather the strength riches, traffi ck, havens, shipping, commodities, vent and the wants and disadvantages of places. Wherein also, for your good hereafter, and from your friends, it will befi t to note their buildings, furniture, entertainments; all their husbandry, and ingenious inventions, in whatsoever concerneth either pleasure of profi t. For the people, your traffi ck among them, while you learn their language, will suffi ciently instruct you in their habilities, dispositions, and humours, if you a little enlarge the privacy of your own nature, to seek acquaintance with the best sort of strangers, and restrain your affections and participation, for your own countrymen of whatsoever condition.”

An intelligencer “Lastly, for the government, your end must not be like an intelligencer, to spend all your time in ﬁ shing after the present news, humours, graces, or disgraces of court, which happily may change before you come home; but your better and more constant ground will be, to know the consanguinities, alliances, and estates of their Princes; proportion between the nobility and magistracy; the constitutions of their Courts of Justice; the State of the Laws, as well for the making as the execution thereof; how the sovereignty of the King infuseth itself into all acts and ordinances; how many ways they lay impositions and taxations, and gather revenues to the crown. What be the liberties and servitudes of all degrees; what discipline and preparations for wars; what invention for increase of trafﬁ ck at home, for multiplying their commodities, encouraging arts and manufactures, or of worth in any kind. Also what establishment, to prevent the necessities and discontentment of people, to cut off suits at law, and duels, to suppress thieves and all disorders.”

Verulamian Expectations “To be short, because my purpose is not to bring all your observations to heads, but only by these few to let you know what manner of return your friends expect from you; let me, for all these and all the rest, give you this one note. Which I desire you to observe as the counsels of a friend, not to spend your spirits, and the precious time of your travel, in a captious prejudice and censuring of all things, nor in an infectious collection of base vices and Lochithea 599

fashions of men and women, or general corruption of these times, which will be of use only among humorists, for jests and table-talk: but rather strain your wits and industry soundly to instruct yourself in all things between heaven and earth which may tend to virtue, wisdom, and honour, and which may make your life more proﬁ table to your country, and your self more comfortable to your friends, and acceptable to God.”

“And to conclude, let all these riches be reassure up, not only in your memory, where time may lessen your stock; but rather in good writings, and books of account, which will keep them safe for your use hereafter. And if in this time of your liberal trafﬁ ck, you will give me any advertisement of your commodities in these kinds, I will make you as liberal a return form myself and your friends here, as I shall be able.”

Ignatius Donnelly tells us, “The author of the plays, whoever he may have been, was unquestionably a profound scholar and most laborious student. He had read in their own tongues all the great, and some of the obscure writers of antiquity; he was familiar with the languages of the principal nations of Europe; his mind had compassed all the learning of his time and of preceding ages; he had pored over the pages of French and Italian novel- ists; he had read the philosophical utterances of the great thinkers of Greece and Rome; and he had closely considered the narrations of the explorers who were just laying bare the secrets of new islands and continents. It has been justly said that the Plays could not have been written without a library, and cannot, today, be studied without one.” Remaining on Bodley, in the Bodleian Library is the history of Thomas Bodley’s lifetime: “I had no man more to friend among the Lords of the Council, that was the Lord Treasurer Burleigh: for when occasion had been offered of declaring his conceit as touching my service, he would always tell the Queen that there was not any man in England so meet as my self to undergo the offi ce of the Secretary. And sithence his son, the present Lord Treasurer, hath signifi ed unto me in private conference, that when his father fi rst intended to advance him to that place, his purpose was withal to make me his colleague. But the case stood thus in my self: before such time as I returned from the provinces united, which was in the year 1597, and likewise after my return, the then Earl of Essex did use me so kindly both by letters and messages, and other great tokens of his inward favours to me, that although I had no meaning, but to settle in my mind my chiefest desire and dependence upon the Lord Burleigh, as one that I reputed to be both the best able, and therewithal the most willing to work my advancement with the Queen, yet I know not how, the Earl, who fought by all devises to divers her love and looking both from the farther and the son to withdraw my affection from the one and the other, and to win me altogether to depend upon him self, did so often take occasion to entertain the Queen with some prodigal speeches for my suffi ciency for a Secretary, which were ever accompanied with words of disgrace against the present Lord Treasurer, as neither she her self, of whose favour before I was thoroughly assured took any great pleasure to prefer me the sooner and both the Lord Burleigh and his son waxed jealous of my courses, as if under hand I had been induced by the cunning and kindness of the Earl of Essex, to oppose my self against their dealings.” 600 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

The above testament from Thomas Bodley allows one to peek into Essex’ attitudes; no doubt, also webbed in similar fashion toward my Lord Verulam, who managed to pull its thread, but most possibly Anthony Bacon had not the strength to escape from; on May 17th, 1601 three months after Essex’ execution on February 25th 1601, Anthony Bacon is dead and buried in the chamber within the vault at St Olave’s Church, Hart Street. I end this epilogue section from quoting John James and his Philosophy of Lord Bacon published in 1860: “But it was not in philosophical inquiry alone that Lord Bacon stood in his age pre-eminent. His varied and extensive powers are astonishing. He is equal to the most extensive range of intellectual vision, or the most delicate and microscopical observation. He was unquestionably the deepest philosopher, as well as the greatest wit, of his time. His style, even in that age of nervous and expressive English, is unequalled, whether we consider its beauty, its clearness, or its force. So great indeed be the fame of his universal genius, that to his pen, of late, has even been attributed, the composition of the most celebrated of Shakespeare’s Plays. To him Mankind is immeasurably indebted. He removed the rubbish of the School Philosophy, and shewed to all future ages the right road to knowledge, with special directions to lead them safely on the way. In one word, the Past, Present, and Future, truly join to hail Francis Lord Bacon as the Greatest Birth of Time.”

It takes great cleverness to be able to conceal one’s cleverness —Duc De La Rochefoucauld

William Shakespeare’s Will & Testament

Vicesimo quinto die Martii, Anno Regni Domini nostri Jacobi nunc Regis Angliæ, &c., decimo quarto, et Scotiœ quadragesimo nono. Anno domini, 1616.

In The Name Of God-Amen! I, William Shakspeare, of Stratford-upon-Avon, [Irving Washington (1783–1859) from The Sketch-Book, 1819: “The house is shown by a garrulous old lady, in a frosty red face, lighted up by a cold blue anxious eye, and garnished with artifi cial locks of fl axen hair, curling from under an exceedingly dirty cap. She was peculiarly assiduous in exhibiting the relics with which this, like all other celebrated shrines, abounds. There was the shattered stock of the very matchlock with which Shakespeare shot the deer, on his poaching exploits. There, too, was his tobacco-box, which proves that he was a rival smoker to Sir Walter Raleigh; the sword also with which he played Hamlet; and the identical lantern with which Friar Laurence discovered Romeo and Juliet at the tomb! There was an ample supply also of Shakespeare’s mulberry-tree, which seems to have as extraordinary powers of self-multiplication as the wood of the true cross; of which there is enough extant to build a ship of the line.”] in the county of Warwick, gent; in perfect health and memory (God Lochithea 601 be praised!) do make and ordain this, my last Will and Testament, in manner and form following; that is to say: First. I commend my soul into the hands of God, my creator, hoping and assuredly believing, through the only merits of Jesus Christ, my saviour, to be made partaker of life everlasting; and my body to the earth, whereof it is made. Item. I give and bequeath, unto my daughter Judith, one hundred and fi fty pounds lawful English money, to be paid unto her in manner and form following; that is to say, one hundred pounds in discharge of her marriage portion, within one year after my decease, with consideration after the rate of two shillings in the pound for so long time as the same shall be unpaid unto her after my decease; and the fi fty pounds residue thereof, upon her sur- rendering of, or giving of such suffi cient security as the overseers of this my will shall like of, to surrender or grant, all her estate and right that shall descend or come unto her after my decease, or that she now hath, of, in, or to, one copyhold tenement, with the appurtenances, lying and being in Stratford-upon-Avon aforesaid, in the county of Warwick, being parcel, or holden of the manor of Rowington, unto my daughter, Susanna Hall, and her heirs for ever. Item. I give and bequeath unto my said daughter Judith, one hundred and fi fty pounds more, if she, or any issue of her body, be living at the end of three years next ensuing the date of this my will, during which time my executors to pay her consideration from my decease according to the rate aforesaid: and if she die within the said term without issue of her body, then my will is, and I do give and bequeath one hundred pounds thereof to my niece, Elizabeth Hall, and the fi fty pounds to be set forth by my executors during the life of my sister, Joan Hart, and the use and profi t thereof coming, shall be paid to my said sister Joan, and after her decease the said fi fty pounds shall remain amongst the children of my said sister, equally to be divided amongst them; but if my said daughter Judith be living at the end of the said three years, or any issue of her body, then my will is, and so I devise and bequeath the said hundred and fi fty pounds to be set out by my executors and overseers, for the best benefi t of her and her issued, and the stock not to be paid unto her so long as she shall be married and covert baron; but my will is, that she shall have the consideration yearly paid unto her during life, and after her decease the said stock and consideration to be paid to her children, if she have any, and if not to her executors or assigns, she living the said term after my decease: provided that if such husband as she shall at the end of the said three years be married unto, or at any after, do suffi ciently assure unto her, and the issue of her body, lands answerable to the portion by this my will given unto her, and to be adjudged so by my executors and overseers, then my will is, that the said hundred and fi fty pounds shall be paid unto such husband as shall make such assurance, to his own use. Item. I give and bequeath unto my said sister Joan, twenty pounds, and all my wearing apparel, to be paid and delivered within one year after my decease; and I do will and devise unto her the house, with the appurtenances, in Stratford, wherein she dwelleth, for her natural life, at the yearly rent of twelve-pence. 602 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Item. I give and bequeath unto her three sons, William Hart, [?] Hart, and Michael Hart, fi ve pounds a-piece, to be paid within one year after my decease. Item. I give and bequeath unto the said Elizabeth Hall, all my plate, except my broad silver and gilt bowl, that I now have at the date of this my will. Item. I give and bequeath unto the poor of Stratford aforesaid, ten pounds; to Mr. Thomas Coombe, my sword; to Thomas Russel, esq., fi ve pounds; and to Francis Collins, of the borough of Warwick, in the county of Warwick, gent., thirteen pounds, six shillings and eight-pence, to be paid within one year after my decease. Item. I give and bequeath to Hamlet Sadler, twenty-six shillings eight-pence to buy him a ring; to William Reynolds, gent., twenty-six shillings eight-pence, to buy him a ring; to my godson, William Walker, twenty shillings in gold; to Antony Nash, gent., twenty-six shillings eight-pence; and to Mr. John Nash, twenty-six shillings eightpence; and to my fellows, John Hemynge, Richard Burbage, and Henry Condell, twenty-six shillings eight- pence a-piece, to buy them rings. Item. I give, will, bequeath, and devise unto my daughter, Susanna Hall, for better enabling of her to perform this my will, and towards the performance thereof, all that capital messuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, in Stratford aforesaid, called the New Place, [Since 1892, New Place has been acquired by the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust] wherein I now dwell, and two messuages or tenements, with the appurtenances, situate, lying, and being in Henley-street, within the borough of Stratford aforesaid; and all my barns, stables, orchards, gardens, lands, tenements, and hereditaments whatsoever, situate, lying, and being or to be had, received, perceived, or taken, within the towns, hamlets, villages, fi elds, and grounds of Stratford-upon-Avon, Old Stratford, Bishopton, and Welcombe, or in any of them. In the said county of Warwick; and also all the messuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, wherein one John Robinson dwelleth, situate, lying, and being, in the Blackfriars in London, near the Wardrobe: and all other my lands, tenements, and hereditaments whatsoever: to have and to hold all and singular the said premises, with their appurtenances, unto the said Susanna Hall, for, and during the term of her natural life; and after her decease, to the fi rst son of her body lawfully issuing, and to the heirs male of the body of the said fi rst son lawfully issuing, and to the heirs male of the body of the said second son of the body of the said Susanna lawfully issuing, and to the heirs male of the body of the said third son lawfully issuing and for default of such issue, the same so to be and remain to the fourth, fi fth, sixth, and seventh sons lawfully issuing one after another, and to the heirs male of the fourth, fi fth, sixth, and seventh sons lawfully issuing, in such manner as it is before limited to be and remain to the fi rst, second, and third sons of her body, and to their heirs male; and for default of such issue, the said premises to be and remain to my said niece, Hall, and the heirs males of her body lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, to my daughter Judith, and the heirs males of her body lawfully issuing; and for default of such issue, to the right heirs of me, William Shakspeare, for ever. Item. I give unto my wife, my second best bed, with the furniture. Lochithea 603

[In 1888, Francis Lord left his wife a shilling “for the tram fare so she can go somewhere and drown herself.”—See Tom Hickman’s Death: A User’s Guide, 2002]

Item. I give and bequeath to my said daughter Judith, my broad silver-gilt bowl. All the rest of my goods, chattels, leases, plate, jewels, and household stuff whatsoever, after my debts and legacies are paid, and my funeral expenses discharged, I give, devise, and bequeath to my son-in-law, John Hall, gent, and my daughter, Susanna his wife, whom I ordain and make executors of this my last Will and Testament. And I do entreat and appoint the said Thomas Russell, esq., and Francis Collins, gent., to be overseers hereof. And do revoke all former wills, and publish this to be my last Will and Testament. In witness whereof I have put my hand the day and year above written. By me, William Shakspeare. Witness to the publishing hereof. Fra. Collyns, Julius Shaw, John Robinson, Hamnet Sadler, Robert Whalcott. Probatum fuit testamentum suprascriptum apud London, coram Magistro William Byrde, Legem Dotore, &c., vicesimo secundo die mensis Junii, Anno Domini, 1616; juramento Johannis Hall unius ex-cui, &c. de bene, &c. jurat reservata potestate, &c. Susanna Hall, alt. Ex. &c. eam cum venerit, &c. petitur, &c.

The First Folio: “The senses are alike strong, both on the right side and on the left; but the limbs on the right side are stronger. The cause may be, for that the brain, which is the instrument of senses, is alike on both sides; but motion, and abilities of moving, are somewhat holpen from the liver, which lieth on the right side. It may be also, for that the senses are put in exercise indifferently on both sides from the time of our birth; but the limbs are used most on the right side, whereby custom helpeth; for we see that some are left-handed; which are such as have used the left hand most.”—See Francis Bacon: Sylva Sylvarum, vol i. century ix, article 876. According to an article in Rare Book Review Magazine, August-September 2006 vol. xxxiii., no.4, issue 366, the First Folio was purchased about 1790 by Henry Constantine Jennings from a bookseller names Thomas Payne; acquired about 1820 by George Hibbert, at whose sale it was purchased by John Wilks, M.P., purchased at Wilks sale by John Dunn Gardner; purchased at Gardner Sale by Henry Huth; acquitted before Huth sale by Alexander S. Cochran. Colophon: Printed at the charges of W. Jaggard, Ed. Blount, I. Smithweeke, and W. Aspley, 1623. This publication was sold on 13 July 2006 for £2,808,000 ($5,153,242), the highest price paid for a First Folio of Shakespeare at auction in the UK; ﬁ nal bid was made by Simon Finch Rare Books. In a commentary article of the Observer Guardian, published April 17, 2005, there is an insert regarding a public sculpture situated in Hyde Park, London, which has a quotation from the play written in Braille but attributed to one Willim Shakespeare. What a melancholy waste of time. 604 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Dr. Appleton Morgan, noted lawyer and scholar, president of the New York Shakespeare Society, and honorary member of the Bacon Society of America; in American Baconiana No. 5, November and February, 1927–28, taken from Leigh’s Clipt Wings, 1930: “The time will come when those who accept the biographies of Shakespeare will perceive that these biographies do not depict any literary character, or any character familiar with libraries of the use of them or with a book or a pen in his hand, or in consultation with any literary authority; and that the facts collected by such writings as I propose effectively dispose of the orthodox Shakespearean theory. If this course is pursued, it will eventually convince the world that whether Bacon or anybody else wrote the play, William Shakespeare of Stratford, did not, and this was what I started out to prove in my Shakespearean Myth of 50 years ago.”

Promus Of Formularies and Elegancies

James Spedding: Wo r k s , vol. xiv, p. 10–135 There is a MS in the British Museum written in Bacon’s own hand, and entitled Promus of Formularies and Elegancies; a date at the top of the fi rst page shows that it was begun on the 5th of December 1594. [It is the festive season where The Comedy of Errors shall be performed at Gray’s Inn.] The manuscript consists of single sentences, set down one after the other without any marks between or any notes of reference or explanation. The fi rst few pages are fi lled chiefl y, though not exclusively with forms of expression applicable to such matters as a man might have occasion to touch in conversation, neatly turned sentences describing personal characters or qualities, forms of compliment, application, excuse, repartee, &c; interspersed among them are apophthegms, proverbs, verses out of the Bible, and lines out of the Latin poets; all set down without any order or apparent connexion of subject. As we advance, the collection becomes less miscellaneous; as if his memory had been ranging within a smaller circumference: passing the Scripture series, we come again into a collection of very miscellaneous character. Proverbs, French, Spanish, Italian, and English, [a huge collection of 443 proverbs in Latin, French, Spanish, and Italian], sentences out of Erasmus’s Adagia, [255 from Erasmus’ Adagia] verses from the Epistles, Gospels, Psalms, Proverbs of Solomon, lines from Seneca, Horace, Virgil, [110 from Virgil] Ovid. [46 from Ovid.] Presently we come to a series of English proverbs, all set down together, remembrances probably or extracts out of some collection which he had been reading and immediately after these, to a number of Latin proverbs, all taken apparently from some collection of the Adagia of Erasmus, in which the proverbs were arranged under heads, and the heads arranged alphabetically. Having gone through this volume he returns to modern proverbs; of which there follow a great number, at fi rst chiefl y Italian, then entirely Spanish, and lastly English again. Lochithea 605

After this he returns again to his Erasmus, commencing as before near the beginning and proceeding regularly to the end, with only two or three deviations from the alphabeti- cal order. The series is interrupted once or twice by a note or query of his own, relating to something which had occurred to him perhaps during his walk; as for instance that “wild thyme on the ground hath a scent like a cypress chest;” “Where harts cast their horns;” “Few dead birds found;” “Salt to water, when it came;” and the like. Next we have another collection of proverbs like the former, one or two French, several Italian, more Spanish, most English. After which he returns for the third time to Erasmus, proceeding as before, but now again selecting sentences. Having as before come to the end of the volume, he now it seems takes up the Æneid and reads it through; for there follow sixteen or seventeen lines, or fragments of lines, all taken from the Æneid and all set down in the order in which they come in the poem; the last being the 833rd line of the 12th book. Then come several lines from Ovid; then a few from Virgil’s Eclogues and Georgics; then a good many from the Satires, Epistles, and Art Poetic of Horace; then another selection from the Æneid; and lastly a good many from Ovid’s Heroides, and a few from the 1st and 2nd books of his Amores; and so the Promus concludes. [The Promus will include 1.600 items.]

“A Dictionary of the English language might be compiled from Bacon’s works alone.” —Dr. Samuel Johnson

Mrs. Henry (Constance) Pott: The Promus of Formularies and Elegancies, 1883—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) These MSS. form part of the Harleian Collection, in which they are catalogued, but without any further description, as Formularies and Elegancies (No. 7.017). They consist of fi fty sheets or folios, numbered from 83 to 132. The numbering of the Harleian Collection has been retained in the present arrangement, which accordingly begins at folio 83. Many of the sheets are covered with notes on both sides. There are 1,680 entries in the Promus, and since, as has been said, these entries are for the most part so mixed as to present, at fi rst sight, nothing but confusion, it will be easier to treat of them as sorted into eight groups or classes: 1. Proverbs or preverbal sayings from the Bible or from the classics; or national proverbs (English, French, Spanish, and Italian.) 2. Aphorisms. 3. Metaphors, similes, and fi gures. (Some of these may equally well be ranged with the proverbs.) 4. Turns of expression. (Including sentences now apparently only on account of some peculiar expression.) 5. Single words. 6. Mottoes for chapters of meditation. 606 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

7. Folio 111. Forms of morning and evening salutation, and other notes, apparently relating to Romeo and Juliet 8. Miscellaneous.

Good men are scarce as was my Lord Verulam, from whose full-ﬂ owing stream all poets have drawn out verses —Lochithea

James Spedding: Wo r k s , vol. xiv, p. 10–135 I have been thus particular in describing it, [the Promus] because it is chiefl y interesting as an illustration of Bacon’s manner of working. There is not much in it of his own. The collection is from books which were then in every scholar’s hands, and the selected passages, standing as they do without any comment to show what he found in them or how he meant to apply them, have no peculiar value. But there is something in his selection of sentences and verses out of the poets which seems to require another explanation; for it is diffi cult sometimes to understand why those particular lines should have been taken and so many others apparently of equal note passed by. Some further light may perhaps be thrown on this point by an observation, or the hint of an observation, which I fi nd in a sheet of memoranda in his hand-writing (Harl. MSS. 7017. fo. 107) which seems to have been preserved in the same bundle with the Promus. It is a thought jotted down in evident haste, and in circumstances apparently very inconvenient for calligraphy, with a bad pen or bad ink, or in the dark, or perhaps in a carriage, and stands thus, literatim.

Mot. of the mynd explicate in words implicate in thowghts. I judg. best implicate in thowg. or pticul. or mark. bycause of swiftnes collocat. And differe. and to make woords sequac.

By which I understand him to mean, that he found the slow and imperfect process of expounding ideas in words to impeded too much the free motions of the mind; and that he judged it a better practice to keep the pure mental conception involved in the thought, or represented by some particular image or simple mark; because by that means the mental process of comparison and distinction could be carried on more swiftly and a habit acquired of “making words sequacious;” that is of teaching words to follow ideas, instead of making ideas wait upon words. It may serve to explain his own practice at this time of embodying his thoughts in brief sentences, picturesque images, or memorable expressions; such as might serve to represent and recall the entire idea which remained in puris naturalibus in his mind. Everybody prepares himself beforehand for great occasions. Bacon seems to have thought it no loss of time to prepare for small ones too, and to have those topics concerning which he was likely to have to express himself in conversation ready at hand and Lochithea 607 reduced into “forms” convenient for use. Even if no occasion should occur for using them, the practice would still serve for an exercise in the art of expression. [How can one not be mesmerized, or not fall in love with such a mind as my Lord Verulam possessed!]

James Spedding: Wo r k s , vol. xiv, p. 109–135; Translation of Certain Psalms

THE TRANSLATION OF THE CXXXIITH PSALM. When as we sat all sad and desolate, By Babylon upon the river’s side, Eas’d from the tasks which in our captive state We were enforced daily to abide, Our harps we had brought with us to the ﬁ eld, Some solace to our heavy souls to yield.

But soon we found we fail’d of our account, For when our minds some freedom did obtain, Straightways the memory of Sion Mount Did cause afresh our wounds to bleed again; So that with present griefs, and future fears, Our eyes burst forth into a stream of tears. As for our harps, since sorrow struck them dumb, We hang’d them on the willow-trees were near; Yet did our cruel masters to us come, Asking of us some Hebrew songs to hear: Taunting us rather in our misery, Than much delighting in our melody.

Alas (said we) who can once force or frame His grieved and oppressed heart to sing The praises of Jehovah’s glorious name, In banishment, under a foreign king? In Sion is his seat and swelling place, Thence doth he shew the brightness of his face.

Hierusalem, where God his throne hath set, Shall any hour absent thee from my mind? Then let my right hand quite her skill forget, Then let my voice and words no passage ﬁ nd; Nay, if I do not thee prefer in all, That in the compass of my thoughts can fall. 608 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Remember thou, O Lord, the cruel cry Of Edom’s children, which did ring and sound, Inciting the Chaldean’s cruelty, “Down with it, down with it, even unto the ground.” In that good day repay it unto them, When thou shalt visit they Hierusalem.

And thou, O Babylon, shalt have thy turn By just revenge, and happy shall he be, That thy proud walls and tow’rs shall waste and burn, And as thou didst by us, so do by thee. Yea, happy he, that takes thy children’s bones, And dasheth them against the pavement stones.

Bacon had all the natural faculties which a poet wants: a fi ne ear for metre, a fi ne feeling for imaginative effect in words, and a vein of poetic passion. The truth is that Bacon was not without the “fi ne phrensy” of the poet; but the world into which it transported him was one which, while it promised visions more glorious than any poet could imagine, promised them upon the express condition that fi ction should be utterly prohibited and excluded. Had it taken the ordinary direction, I have little doubt that it would have carried him to a place among the great poets; but it was the study of his life to refrain his imagination and keep it within the modesty of truth; aspiring no higher than to be a faithful interpreter of nature, waiting for the day when the “Kingdom of Man” should come.

THE TRANSLATION OF THE CIVTH PSALM. Father and King of pow’rs, both high and low, Whose sounding fame all creatures serve to blow; My soul shall with the rest strike up thy praise, And carol of thy works and woundrous ways. [Mine eye hath played the painter and hath stelled Thy beauty’s form in table of my heart—Sonnet 24]

[If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in fresh numbers number all your graces, The age to come would say “This poet lies: Such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces—Sonnet 17]

But who can blaze thy beauties, Lord, aright? They turn the brittle beams of mortal sight.

[Then happy I that love and am beloved Where I may not remove, nor be removed—Sonnet 25] Lochithea 609

Upon thy head thou wear’st a glorious crown, All set with virtues, polish’d with renown: Then around about a silver veil doth fall Of crystal light mother of colours all.

[For all that beauty that doth cover thee Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me. How can I then be elder than thou art?—Sonnet 22]

The compass heaven, smooth without grain or fold, All set with spangs of glitt’ring stars untold, And strip’d with golden beams of power unpent, Is raised up for a removing tent.

[Let those who are in favour with their stars Of public honour and proud titles boast, Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, Unlooked for joy in that I honour most—Sonnet 25]

Vaulted and arched are his chamber beams Upon the seas, the waters, and the streams: The clouds as chariots swift do scour the sky; The stormy winds upon their wings do ﬂ y.

[Mine eyes have drawn thy shape, and thine for me Are windows to my breast, wherethrough the sun Delights to peep, to gaze therein on thee—Sonnet 24]

His angles spirits are, that wait his will, As fl ames of fi re his anger they fulfi ll.

[And dumb presagers of my speaking breast, Who plead for love, and look for recompense, More than that tongue that more hath more expressed—Sonnet 23]

In the beginning, with a might hand, He made the earth by counterpoise to stand; Never to move, but to be ﬁ xed still; Yet hath no pillars but his sacred will. 610 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

[Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest Now is the time that face should form another, Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother—Sonnet 3]

This earth, as with a veil, once cover’d was, The waters over-ﬂ owed all the mass: But upon his rebuke away they ﬂ ed, And then the hills began to shew their head; The vales their hollow bosoms open’d plain, The streams ran trembling down the vales again: And that the earth no more might drowned be, He set the sea is bounds of liberty; And though his waves resound, and beat the shore, Yet it is bridled by his holy lore.

[Those hours, that with gentle work did frame The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell, Will play the tyrants to the very same, And that un-fair which fairly doth excel: For never-resting Time leads summer on To hideous winter, and confounds him there, Sap checked with frost and lusty leaves quite gone, Beauty o’ersnowed and bareness everywhere. Then, were not summer’s distillation left A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass, Beauty’s effect with beauty were bereft, Nor it nor no remembrance what it was. But ﬂ owers distilled, though they with winter meet, Lose but their show; their substance still lives sweet—Sonnet 5]

Then did the rivers seek their proper places, And found their heads, their issues, and their races; The springs do feed the rivers all the way, And so the tribute to the sea repay; Running along through many a pleasant ﬁ eld, Much fruitfulness unto the earth they yield: That know the beasts and cattle feeding by, Which for to slake their thirst do thither hie.

[From fairest creatures we desire increase, That thereby beauty’s rose might never die, But as the riper should by time decease, His tender heir might bear his memory: Lochithea 611

But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, Feed’st thy light’s falme with self-substantial fuel, Making a famine where abundance lies, Thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel. Thou that art now the world’s fresh ornament, And only herald to the gaudy spring, Within thine own bud buriest thy content, And, tender churl, mak’st waste in niggarding: Pity the world, or else this glutton be, To eat the world’s due, by the grave and thee—Sonnet 1]

Nay desert grounds the streams do not forsake, But through the unknown ways their journey take: The asses wild, that hide in wilderness, Do thither come, their thirst for to refresh.

[Herein lives wisdom, beauty, and increase; Without this, folly, age, and cold decay. If all were minded so the times should cease, And threescore year would make the world away—Sonnet 11]

The shady trees along their banks do spring, In which the birds do build, and sit, and sing; Stroking the gentle air with pleasant notes, Plaining or chirping through their warbling throats.

[Let those whom Nature hath not made for store, Harsh, featureless, and rude barrenly perish. Look whom she best endowed she gave the more, Which bounteous gift thou shouldst in bounty cherish—Sonnet 11]

The hither grounds, where waters cannot rise, By rain and dews are water’d from the skies; Causing the earth put forth the grass for beasts, And garden herbs, serv’d at the greatest feasts; And bread, that is al viands’ ﬁ rmament, And gives a ﬁ rm and solid nourishment; And wine, man’s spirits for to recreate; And oil, his face for to exhilarate.

[When I consider every thing that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment; That this huge stage presenteth naught but shows, 612 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Whereon the stars in secret inﬂ uence comment; When I perceive that men as plants increase, Cheerèd and checked even by the selfsame sky, Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease, And wear their brave state out of memory; Then the conceit of this inconstant stay Sets you most rich in youth before my sight, Where wasteful time debateth with decay To change your day of youth to sullied night—Sonnet 15]

The sappy cedars, tall like stately tow’rs, High-ﬂ ying birds do harbour in their bow’rs: The holy storks, that are the travellers, Choose for to dwell and build within the ﬁ rs; The climbing goats hang on steep mountain’s side; The digging conies in the rocks do bide.

[Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date; Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed, And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed—Sonnet 18]

The moon, so constant in inconstancy, Doth rule the monthly seasons orderly; The sun, eye of the world, doth know his race, And when to shew, and when to hide his face.

[But thy eternal summer shall not fade, Not lose possession of that fair thou ow’st; Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st—Sonnet 18]

Thou makest darkness, that it may be night, When as the savage beasts, that ﬂ y the light, (As conscious of man’s hatred) leave their den, And range abroad, secur’d from sight of men.

[So long as men can breath or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee—Sonnet 18] Lochithea 613

Then do the forests ring of lions roaring, That ask their meat of God, their strength restoring; But when the day appears, they back do ﬂ y, And in their dens again do lurking lie. The man goes forth to labour in the ﬁ eld, Whereby his grounds more rich increase may yield.

[Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws, And make the earth devour her own sweet brood, Pluck the keen teeth from the ﬁ erce tiger’s jaws, And burn the long-lived phoenix in her blood, Make glad and sorry seasons as thou ﬂ eet’st, And do whate’er thou wilt, swift footed Time, To the wide world and all her fading sweets—Sonnet 19]

O Lord, thy providence sufﬁ ceth all; Thy goodness, not restrained, but general Over thy creatures: the whole earth doth ﬂ ow With thy great largeness pour’d forth here below.

[How much more praise deserved they beauty’s use If thou couldst answer “This fair child of mine Shall sum my count, and make my old excuse”, Probing his beauty by succession thine—Sonnet 2]

Nor is it earth alone exalts thy name, But seas and streams likewise do spread the same.

[She carved thee for her seal, and meant thereby Thou shouldst print more, not let that copy die—Sonnet 11]

The rolling seas unto the lot doth fall Of beasts innumerable, great and small; There do the stately ships plough up the ﬂ oods, The greater navies look like walking woods; The ﬁ shes their far voyages do make, To divers shores their journey they do take.

[So is it not with me as with that Muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use, And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare 614 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

With sun and moon, with earth, and sea’s rich gems, With April’s ﬁ rst born ﬂ owers, and all things rare That heaven’s air in this huge rondure hems—Sonnet 21]

There hast thou set the great Leviathan, That makes the seas to seeth like boiling pan.

[Let them say more that like of hearsay well: I will not praise, that purpose not to sell—Sonnet 21]

All these do ask of thee their meat to live, Which in due season thou to them dost give.

[My glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date—Sonnet 22]

Ope thou thy hand, and then they have good fare; Shut thou thy hand, and then they troubled are.

[Bearing thy heart which I will keep so chary As tender nurse her babe from faring ill—Sonnet 22]

All life and spirit from thy breath proceed, Thy word doth all things generate and feed.

[Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain: thou gav’st me thine not to give back again—Sonnet 22]

If thou withdraw’st it, then they cease to be, And straight return to dust and vanity; But when thy breath thou dos send forth again, Then all things do renew and spring amain; So that the earth, but lately desolate, Doth now return unto the former state.

[Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck, And yet methinks I have astronomy, But not to tell of good or evil luck, Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons’ quality; Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell, Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind, Lochithea 615

Or say with princes if it shall go well By oft predict that I in heaven ﬁ nd—Sonnet 14]

The glorious majesty of God above Shall ever reign in mercy and in love: God shall rejoice all his fair works to see, For as they come from him all perfect be.

[Be as thy presence is, gracious and kind, Or to thyself at least kind hearted prove: Make thee another self for love of me, That beauty still may live in thine or thee—Sonnet 10]

The earth shall quake, if aught his wrath provoke; Let him but touch the mountains, they shall smoke.

[Mark how one string, sweet husband to another, Strikes each in each by mutual ordering—Sonnet 8]

As long as life doth last I hymns will sing, With cheerful voice, to the eternal King; As long as I have being, I will praise The works of God, and all his wondrous ways.

[Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy: Why lov’st thou that which thou receiv’st not gladly, Or else receiv’st with pleasure thine annoy?—Sonnet 8]

I know that he my words will not despise, Thanksgiving is to him a sacriﬁ ce. But as for sinners, they shall be destroy’d From off the earth; their places shall be void.

[Then what could death do if thou shouldst depart, Leaving thee living in posterity? Be not self-willed, for thou art much too fair To be death’s conquest and make worms thine heir—Sonnet 6]

Let all his works praise him with one accord; O praise the Lord, my soul; praise ye the Lord! 616 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

The Translation of certain Psalms into English verse was made, as the collection of Apophthegms also was, during a ﬁ t of sickness in 1624. [Published in 1625, and dedicated to Mr. George Herbert.]

* Why do we seek other climates, warmed by the same sun, my patient Reader; can no man hear my Lord Verulam’s trumpets blow under the same clouds that unhang to every word that doth almost tell his name?

Alas! My life on its knees so it seems where all the poems have now been written and all seen that is to see in dreams. Lochithea 2007 Afterword Baconians/In Memory

ANAGRAM program online (www.wordsmith.org/anagram/index.html)

BACON Francis Society Incorporated (www.baconsocietyinc.org) Initiated by Mrs. Pott in 1886. The Society continues to present original research and foster new Baconian approaches through its meetings. Baconians have also produced a wide range of books, some of which contain gems of amateur scholarship that need to be rescued and disseminated beyond their unorthodox context. Above all, the Society is itself a remarkable information resource, a repository of expertise, enthusiasm and initiative, which welcomes the active participation of its members. Interested readers are directed to the instructions for joining the Society; enquiries are always welcome.

BACON Gerald Francis (www.baconlinks.com/will/BaconShaker.html)

BACON Francis Research Trust (www.fbrt.org.uk) This Web site is maintained by Peter Dawkins, MA, Dip. Arch, Architect. His Baconian work, which is likewise involved with knowledge of the landscape as well as history, philosophy, culture and consciousness, concerns one of the great doorways into the otherwise esoteric Western wisdom tradition. Shakespeare and the Rosicrucians are part of this story. Peter’s book, The Shakespeare Enigma presents the extraordinary treasure trail that leads to (and is) this ‘doorway’, whilst its complementary book, Building Paradise, describes what the Baconian-Rosicrucian method and work actually is. Besides seminars on Bacon, the Rosicrucians and the wisdom traditions, which he has been giving since 1979, Peter has given Wisdom of Shakespeare seminars and workshops for over ﬁ fteen years, including at the Shakespeare Globe Theatre in London, and advises actors and directors. Complementing this is his on-going series of books on the Wisdom of Shakespeare in each Shakespeare play, in which ﬁ ve titles are so far published.

BACON, Delia She is best known for her work on Shakespearean authorship. She was born in Tallmadge, Ohio and became a teacher in schools in Connecticut, New Jersey, and New York, and

617 618 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals then, until about 1852, conducted, in various Eastern United States cities, classes for women in history and literature by methods she devised. She wrote Tales of the Puritans (1831), The Bride of Fort Edward (1839), based on the story of Jane M’Crea, partly in blank verse, and The Philosophy of the Plays of Shakespeare Unfolded (1857), for which she spent several years in study in England, where she was befriended by Thomas Carlyle and Nathaniel Hawthorne. In 1853, Delia Bacon approached James Spedding with her belief that Francis Bacon was instrumental in the authorship of Shakespeare’s works. Spedding’s initial reaction was “speechless astonishment;” but on later occasions he clearly expressed his disfavor of the Baconian hypothesis, and explained some of the common-sense reasons against it. Spedding was the ﬁ rst person to recognize the hand of John Fletcher in Shakespeare’s Henry VIII., his Who Wrote Henry VIII? appeared in 1850; he was also one of the ﬁ rst people to perceive Shakespeare’s hand in the additions to Sir Thomas More.

BORMANN, Edwin The following article is from his book, Francis Bacon’s Cryptic Rhymes, 1906—Courtesy (www.sirbacon.org): “Mr. James Spedding was the editor of the latest and most complete edition of Bacon’s works, and has earned for himself the eternal gratitude of the world as well as mine. Almost everything connected with, or relating to, the name of Bacon he carefully collected; his painstaking calls for our admiration; to him we owe the fi rst detailed compilation of Bacon’s letters. But shall we, as a great part of the English literary world does, esteem Mr. James Spedding an oracle on “everything” concerning Bacon? To edit the works of an author and to pronounce a fi nal verdict upon him, are two very different things. In my opinion, the mind of any one undertaking to edit the writings of such a man as Francis Bacon must be far too much absorbed in the task, to allow of his entering, at the same time, into the subject matter, and fathoming the depths of the writings themselves. He has to compare the various editions hitherto published, he has to rummage among archives and collections, he has to copy manuscripts, the deciphering of which is frequently a matter of diffi culty, he has to superintend the reading of the proof sheets. How can he, whose attention is necessarily thus divided in detail work, retain a clear idea and view of the writings as a whole? But as I traverse the above raised question as to whether Mr. James Spedding knew “everything” about Bacon, it is my duty to state the reasons. Those reasons are manifold, various, and some of them are of great moment: 1. On the title-page of every volume we may read: “The Works of Francis Bacon, Collected and Edited by James Spedding, Robert Leslie Ellis, and Douglas Denon Heath.” Thus we see that Mr. Spedding had two collaborators; consequently several of the chief works were not published and furnished with notes by him, but by Ellis or Health. Lochithea 619

[In Spedding’s Works, vol i, p. 9 it is explained why there were two collaborators. “To understand and illustrate the Philosophical works (philosophy and general literature) in their relation to this age, a man must be not only well read in the history of science both ancient and modern, but himself a man of science, capable of handling scientifi c questions. To produce a correct text of the Professional works (legal subjects) and supply what other help may be necessary for a modern student, a man must be a lawyer. To explain and interpret the Occasional works, (letters, speeches, charges, tracts, state-papers,) and set them forth in a shape convenient for readers of the present generation, a man must have leisure to make himself acquainted by tedious and minute researches among the forgotten records of the time with the circumstances in which they were written. Now as it would not be easy to fi nd any one man in whom these several qualifi cations meet, it was thought expedient to keep the three divisions separate, assigning each to a separate editor. It was agreed accordingly that the Philosophical works should be undertaken by Mr. Robert Leslie Ellis; the Professional works by Mr. Douglas Denon Heath; the Occasional and the Literary works by me; each division to be made complete in itself, and each editor to be solely responsible for his own part of the work.”] 2. Mr. James Spedding takes upon himself to correct (!) Bacon, where it is entirely out of place. The instance to which I am about to quote in proof of my statement has something of the ludicrous about it for the German. In his Notes on the Present Christendom, 1582, Bacon names “Julius, Duke of Brunswick, at the strong castle of Wolfenbettle on Order,” and Mr. Spedding adds to the word “Order” the note “Occar in MS.” Pray, tell me, Mr. Spedding, since “Occar” was the name contained in the manuscript, why did you not leave it? Wolfenbettle is really situated on the “Oker” (Occar), and was there even in 1582, and not on the Odor. Bacon, the youth of twenty-one, knew that three hundred years ago. But Mr. Spedding thought he knew it better, as he probably remembered having once heard in his geography lessons something of a river going by the name of “Oder” in Germany. This involuntary joke is contained in vol. viii. p. 24. [I esteem Spedding’s opinion highly, but I cannot agree with him in adding changes toward what Bacon wrote. Of similar differences, that the above author states, I have stumbled upon between Spedding’s text and text in the Resuscitatio: an original letter in the Resuscitatio has the word “Rovers.” According to Alexander Schmidts’ Shakespeare Lexicon and Quotation Dictionary, the word “Rovers” means a fl y-away, a rogue, a scape- grace. Spedding: Works; vol. viii. p. 108–109 substitutes the word “Rovers” with “covers”; see chapter Moniti miliora of this Journal for the letter. But let us read what Spedding says about this matter from his Works, vol i, p. 19: “The spelling in the English works has been altered according to modern usage. I have endeavoured however to distinguish those variations which belong merely to the fashion of orthog- raphy from those which appear to involve changes in the forms of words. Thus in such words as president (the invariable spelling in Bacon’s time of the substantive which is now invariably written presedent, and valuble as showing that the pronunciation of the word is not changed), prœjudice, fained, mathematiques, chymist, &c., I adopt the 620 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

modern form; but I do not substitute lose for leese, politicians for politiques, external for externe, Solomon for Salomon, accommodated for the past participle accommodate; and so on; these being changes in the words themselves and not merely in the manner of writing them.” And again ibid., p. 49: “a habit of Bacon’s which seems at fi rst sight a fault, and perhaps sometimes is; and of which a great many instances have been pointed out by Mr. Ellis; a habit of inaccurate quotation. In quoting an author’s words, especially where he [Bacon] quotes them merely by way of voucher for his own remark, or in acknowledgment of the source when he derived it, or to suggest an allusion which may give a better effect to it, he very often quotes inaccurately. Sometimes, no doubt, this was unintentional, that fault of his memory; but more frequently, I suspect, it was done deliberately, for the sake of presenting the substance in a better form or a form better suited to the particular occasion.”] 3. In 1870 Mr. Spedding published the so called Northumberland Manuscript which had been re-discovered in the London Palace of the Dukes of Northumberland, as a supplement to the complete edition of Bacon’s Works. The book is entitled A Conference of Pleasure. This little “Device,” couched in a learned tone, was written by Bacon in 1592. But Mr. Spedding added to his publication a facsimile of the cover of the manuscript, from which it is evident that, besides other Bacon manuscripts, those of the tragedies of Richard the Second and Richard the Third had also lain between the same book covers. The fi rst part of the manuscripts themselves has been preserved, the second part, that containing the Tragedies, has been burnt. These facts Mr. Spedding established in the introduction, adding the names “Francis Bacon” and “William Shakespeare” are scribbled something like a dozen times on the cover, but he omits to state the principal fact, viz., that the two names are so arranged above the two titles of the Dramas as to show clearly that the writer fi rst intended to designate “Francis Bacon” as the author of those two plays, but fi nally wrote the name of “William Shakespeare” (the pseudonym). The entry reads: By Mr. Francis William Shakespeare Rychard the second Bacon Rychard the third. The word “Francis” is emphasized by being again written in a reversed direction over the word “Francis.” This fact, the most important feature of the page, is the very one which Mr. Spedding overlooked or disregarded, representing the whole matter as an accident. An accident that two tragedies (which an actor is said to have written) should be found among the written work of the scholar Bacon and between the covers of the same work, before the printing of the tragedies! The result did not fi t in with his account, and Mr. Spedding, or the Duke of Northumberland, inhibited the further sale of the book, so that it became exceedingly scarce and was but little known, until it was reproduced in facsimile by Mr. F. J. Burgoyne in 1904. Lochithea 621

[To this date, the Northumberland Manuscript remains only on the lips of Baconians instead of being in the hands of scientifi c researchers. Of inumerable passages from the MSS can be found in Spedding’s Works, vol. i from page 47.] 4. Strange things seem to have happened between Mr. Spedding and “Shakespeare” any- how. The learned editor has read Shakespeare far too little and has sounded far too shallowly the depths of a mind and genius like Bacon’s to have ever felt or discovered the association and relationship of thought which links the science shown in his prose writings to the poetry of his plays. How rarely does he remark that this or that passage or thought reminds him of Shakespeare! But the naivete of Mr. Spedding’s words (vol. i. p. 519): Shakespeare’s plays, of which, though they had been fi lling the theatre for the last thirty years, I very much doubt whether Bacon had ever heard … is enough to make one’s hair bristle. [See chapter The Spedding Collection of Baconiana in this Journal for a complete list of works Spedding researched upon, to write the Works and Life of Bacon; the list does not include library manuscripts. These books are now in some private collector’s library, since they were stolen from the British Library, as of 2006. In Spedding’s Works, published 1861 by Brown and Taggard, vol i, from pages 231 to 539 end of this volume, resides Bacon’s Latin version of the Novum Organum. On page 519, there are two footnotes from Spedding; footnote one: “According to Beckmann, the fi rst distinct mention of the diving-bell, at least in modern times, is to be found in Fainsius, as quoted by Schott. Fainsius gives an account of some Greeks who exhibited a diving-bell at Toledo, before Charles the Fifth and his court, in 1538.” and footnote two: “The right reading is doubtless “frigida;” but the sense is obvious.” I must assume that the author of the article refers to a different edition.] Although the Shakespeare Plays had been fi lling the London theatres for thirty years, Mr. Spedding doubts whether Bacon had ever heard of them! Is not that equivalent to saying that Bacon was more ignorant than any London schoolboy of his day? And how came he to make this astonishing remark? Simply because Mr. Spedding nowhere discovered the name of Shakespeare in Bacon’s works. In the same manner, Mr. Spedding might also have proved that Bacon had never heard of Ben Jonson and Ben Jonson’s plays; for neither is the name of Ben Jonson anywhere to be discovered in Bacon’s works and letters, though Ben Jonson was his friend and collaborator and had dwelt with him for fi ve years. The reader of this book can account for that; but Mr. Spedding was strangely misled through his superfi cial and hurried manner of reading. Let us just for a moment try to realize the actual meaning of Mr. Spedding’s words. The plays had been performed for decades in the public theatres, and Bacon knew London life better than any other living being. The plays had been performed for decades at Court on festive occasions, and Bacon was a constant attendant at Court. The words “theatre” and “stage” are constantly occurring in Bacon’s writings. Bacon 622 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

took a delight in everything connected with the theatre, and wrote in glowing terms of praise on the art of poetry. And you mean to say that the same Bacon knew nothing of “Shakespeare?” [It seems neither did many other authors of the time know anything about Shakespeare: “It is wonderful,” exclaims Mr. Crouch-Batchelor, “that hundreds of persons should not have left records of him. We know nearly as much about the most insignifi cant writer of the period as we know of him, but fi fty times more about most of his contemporaries. It is senseless to try to account for this otherwise than by recognising that the man was not the author.”] 5. And now of the passage in which Mr. Spedding himself confesses that there is something. I may here at once add something “very important” which he does not know. The short, momentous sketch of Bacon’s life, written by his secretary Rawley, was not published till 1657, as introduction to the compilation entitled Resuscitatio. In the year following, Rawley published that sketch as introduction to a little Bacon volume printed in Holland, Opuscula Philosophica, in Latin, and reprinted it in another little book, Opuscula Varia Posthuma Francisci Baconi, Amsteledami, 1663.” This “Vita Baconi,” a highly important document, as it deviates in the Latin version in many respects from the English original, Mr. Spedding omits from his fourteen volume edition. [The complete Works are set in 15 volumes, published 1861 by Brown and Taggard. The above mentioned works, according to Spedding, Works, vol v. p. 195: “Another question well worth asking is, what became of those moral and political pieces which Gruter had received from Boswell, and had by him in 1653, and intended to publish? I cannot hear that he ever did publish anything answering the description; and unless he transferred them to Dr. Rawley to be included in the Opuscila (1658) which does contain a few things of the kind, they remain to be accounted for.”] Thus only furnishing us with a Life of Bacon in the English version, as it fi rst appeared in London in 1657. Those Dutch editions terminate with the sentence: But howsoever his Body was mortal, yet no doubt his Memory and Works will live, and will in all probability last as long as the World lasteth. In order to which I have endeavor’d (after my poor Ability) to do this Honour to his Lordship, by way of enducing to the same. [See chapter To Live Twice A Day in this Journal, where letters to Rawley from mentioned publishers are given and taken from the Resuscitatio fi rst edition, printed by Sarah Griffi n for William Lee in 1657.] So that, whereas the English version merely says that the Memory and Works of Bacon will “last as long as the World lasteth,” the Latin editions published in Holland end with an allusion to the Theatre: “They will not yield to fate, until the theatrical machinery of the globe is dissolved.” Lochithea 623

[In Gallup’s Biliteral Cypher of Francis Bacon, published by Gay & Bird in 1899, she states that the Latin cipher chapter in Bacon’s New Advancement of Learning is more accurate and fuller than the English translation of it. And Spedding, Works, vol i. p. 46: “It shows that where the English and the Latin differ, the Latin must be regarded as the later and better authority.” ] “Machina,” in Greek signifi es the theatrical, or stage-machinery, upon which the gods, in tragedy, descended (were let down) from above on to the stage, hence the saying: “Deus ex machina.” The English edition then adds the above mentioned stilted sentence, from which all we can gather is that Rawley would have very much liked to say more, but did not dare to do so. In vol. xiv. p. 524 however, Mr. Spedding, in speaking of this passage added by Rawley, says: In a book published in France about the end of the last (18th) century, a passage on this subject is quoted as if Rawley, about which there must certainly be some mistake. The book is entitled Le Christianisme de Francois Bacon, Chancelier d’Angleterre, on Pensees de ce grand homme sur la Religion. A Paris, an. VII. The passage in question occurs in a note, vol. i. p. 174 I do not know where this passage is to be found. [On the page mentioned above is the continuance to the Preface of Bacon’s Latin version of the Novum Organum, and this Preface is written by Robert Leslie Ellis. I must assume that the author of the article refers to a different edition.] Didn’t he indeed know where to look for those words of Rawley’s? Well then, as the editor of a complete edition of all Bacon’s works he does indeed expose his ignorance in a manner fatal to his reputation, for he might easily have found them! In 1665, the fi rst real complete edition of Francis Bacon’s Works in Latin (1324 Folio columns) appeared in Frankfort on the Main (not in London, not in England). In 1694, the second, still completer edition of the Opera Omnia (1584 Folio columns) [See chapter The Spedding Collection of Baconiana in this Journal for a complete list of works Spedding researched upon.] appeared in Leipzig (not in England this time either, nor in London). Mr. Spedding never as much as looked at either of those two important editions! He does not even know what is on the fi rst pages of those two books. [A complete commentary on these works, that agree exactly with the above, is given by Spedding: Works, vol. v p.187–196] “For my name and memory, I leave it to foreign nations.” In accordance with those words in the Last Will, Rawley had the fi rst part of his revised and completed biography of Bacon printed in Holland, the other part in Germany, not in England. The second part, the conclusion, appears never to have been printed in England, and is not known to the English. 624 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

What Mr. Spedding discovered in a French book is nothing else than the two fi nal sentences of the Vita Francisci Baconi as it was printed in Frankfort and Leipzig in the seventeenth century. But it does not constitute the most important part of the conclusion of the German editions. For that is printed between the end of the Dutch- English edition and the words quoted in the French book. They are the sentences that justify Bacon’s doings and defend him against his English opponents. Here is the real conclusion to the Vita Francisci Baconi, of which the edition of Mr. Spedding offers us but a meager fragment, and even that has been tampered with: (1) The fi nal sentence of the Dutch edition (which Mr. Spedding knew of, and yet omitted from his complete edition) (2) The sentences in the two German editions (fully unknown to Mr. Spedding) (3) The two fi nal sentences in the German editions (known to Mr. Spedding through the French book, but incorrectly quoted in his modern complete edition) We reproduce the English translations: (1) But what though his body be mortal, doubtless, his memory and his works will live, and, in all probability, not perish until all the theatrical machinery of this globe be dissolved. [See Spedding: Works, vol. v p.187–196 where a complete commentary on these works, that agree exactly with the above, is given] (2) But there were also those who by all kinds of malevolent prosecution, sought, though in vain, to stigmatize the name of the great hero. For, albeit he had been disposed of offi ce by the King and by Parliament, this was done from no other cause than jealousy, which was the motive. He personally consoled himself with those words of the Scripture: “There is nothing new!” Truly, he shared the fate of Cicero at the hands of Octavian, of Callisthenes at the hands of Alexander, of Seneca under Nero, of whom history relates that they were banished or put to death or cast to the lions. However that may be, as such great men are above all fate, and as their masters usually repent their deeds later on, so we also know that whenever a particularly diffi cult and complicated matter presented itself, King James is said to have exclaimed: Would my Bacon, my former Chancellor, had remained with me, how easily I would now extricate myself. (3) Nor is there anybody, who, after his resignation, could reproach him in any way in private affairs. For it has been proved that afterwards naught of that was wanting which had contributed towards the grandeur of his position, but that, in spite of all, he lived so, that it seemed as though he would enter into an argument on Fate with Jove himself, an example of virtue, piety, love of humanity and patience. That is the conclusion of Rawley’s Vita Baconi. We know from history that upon his disposition he was put into the tower pro forma for four or fi ve days, and obliged to avoid London for a time, but that Lochithea 625

eventually he was pardoned and might have returned to Parliament, and, as we have just heard, that his King, surrounded by incapable counselors, sighed for him. But Bacon scorned the idea of ever returning to a post in which he had met with such hatred and jealousy. He lived exclusively to write his literary works for the benefi t of mankind. He lived for us! [There is a letter in Resuscitatio 1657, dated after Bacon’s fall; it is quite clear from this letter, that Bacon is already advising King James. In the Baconiana, An Account of the Life of the Lord Bacon, 1679, p. xxxv: “And summoned he was by writ, to the second Parliament held by King Charles; but being then infi rm and weak, he died soon after the session began; so that he never sat therein.” Dr. Rawley tells us that “his Lord was no revenger of injuries, no remover of men out of their places, no defamer of any man to his Prince, no insulter of offenders: but always tender-hearted looking upon the example with the eye of severity, according to the duty of his place; but upon the person, with the eye of pity and compassion.”] 6. And yet Mr. Spedding disregards the most important confession contained in the Last Will, viz., that Francis Bacon wrote “curiously rhymed” books. [In Bacon’s Will compiled from Resuscitatio, 1657: “Legacies to my friends: I give unto the right honourable my worthy friend the Marquis Fiatt, late Lord Ambassador of France, my books of orisons or psalms curiously rhymed.” See chapter Father of Salomon’s House in this Journal where both copies of Bacon’s Will are given.] He seems to take it for granted that an English Chancellor, at his death, should leave curiously rhymed books behind. Neither Mr. Spedding, nor all those gentlemen who would still hold him up as an absolute authority on Bacon, has the remotest idea that there are rhymed verses concealed in Bacon’s prose works. In his Essay Of Studies, Bacon recommends us to read certain books (among which, fi rst and foremost, his own must be counted) with attention, slowly, “curiously.” This Mr. Spedding has, in most cases, neglected to do. 7. But now we are coming to a point in which Mr. Spedding must not only admit carelessness, but must plead guilty of having concealed one of the most important facts from us in an inexcusable manner. About the year 1825, Basil Montagu published the complete edition of Bacon’s Works, which served Spedding, Ellis and Heath as the most natural model to go by. That edition contains, among other letters, the one written by Sir Toby Matthew to Bacon, showing the important, the all important post postscriptum. MR. SPEDDING SUPPRESSED THAT LETTER. And why did not Mr. Spedding, who otherwise collected every scrap, include that letter in his edition, a letter, the authenticity of which no one can, no one ever did, doubt? We know of one reason only. It did not suit Mr. Spedding, after all the trouble he had gone to, in publishing a goodly number of Bacon’s works, to hunt for the famous pseudonym to which Matthew alludes. The truth revealed by the Northumberland Manuscript (Richard the Second and Richard the Third, by Francis Bacon) did not fi t in with Mr. Spedding’s 626 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

calculations; the truth revealed by Matthew’s letter did not fi t in with his calculations either. He regretted having published the former, and omitted the latter altogether from his edition. But an edition of the Life and Works of Francis Bacon without the Northumberland Manuscript, and without Toby Matthew’s letter with the postscriptum, is not a complete edition. We are indebted to Mr. Spedding for a great deal, but it is to Mr. Basil Montagu that we owe the publication of the words: “The most prodigious wit is of your Lordship’s name, though he be known by another.” In suppressing that all-important letter, Mr. Spedding had made himself guilty of a great crime. He tried to do away with something, which did not suit him and many others. Why else should it have been that very letter and no other?” [The above mentioned letter is in the Resuscitatio 1657 fi rst edition; it is also mentioned by: Howard Bridgewater, Evidence Connecting Sir Francis Bacon with “Shakespeare” The Bacon Society: “What, may we ask, was this “great and noble token” that my Lord Verulam sent to his friend and admirer, Sir Toby Matthew? There was nothing published in Verulam’s name in the spring of 1623. It would seem to be a fair inference, therefore, that it was a copy of the then just-published fi rst folio edition of “Shakespeare.” And then by Mrs. Henry Pott in The Promus, 1883: “In the Promus note it really seems that the clue is found to Bacon’s password between himself and his friend. The Alphabet meant the Tragedies and Comedies, those ‘other works,’ those ‘works of his recreation,’ which Sir Toby Matthew had in his mind when he added to a business letter this mysterious postscript: The most prodigious wit that ever I knew, of my nation and of this side of the sea, is of your Lordship’s name, though he be known by another.” See chapter Father of Salomon’s House in these Journals. The letter is also mentioned by Daphne Du Maurier in her Bacon’s Rise and Fall.]

CARR, Francis The Shakespeare Authorship Information Centre (www.shakespeareauthorship. org.uk) The Web site was established in 1963 by Francis Carr to answer the many questions that people all around the world were asking about England’s greatest author. Carr has written a biography of Ivan the Terrible, of Mozart, and a history of European Erotic Art. He has promoted the authorship question of Shakespeare for the last 40 years. His fortnightly news bulletin Who was Shakespeare? has been available to the public for 25 years.—Lawrence Gerald Francis Carr gives some points on Baconian evidence: 1. Northumberland Manuscript. The only contemporary document bearing the names of Shakespeare and Bacon and the titles of two Shakespeare plays, Richard II., and Richard III., listed under the words, “by Francis William Shakespeare”. Lochithea 627

In the line above, “essaies by the same author”. The long word in Love’s Labour’s Lost also appears in the Northumberland Manuscript. Above the word “Francis” can been seen, upside down, “your soveraign.” 2. The only Shakespeare notebook, a collection of expressions, phrases, and sentences, many of which appear in the Shakespeare plays. This is the Promus, written by Francis Bacon. This notebook has not been mentioned by a single Shakespeare biographer. 3. The Manes Verulamiani, a collection of obituary poems written in honour of Bacon by his friends, in Latin, some of which quote the expressions used on the Shakespeare monument in the Stratford church. One of these poems praises Bacon for his comedies and tragedies. 4. The St. Albans Mural, in the White Hart Inn, dated 1600 showing scenes from Venus and Adonis. At least six details have been found which link this large painting with Bacon, his nearby house at Gorhambury, the Rosicrucians, led by Bacon, and the Shakespeare plays. If this mural had been discovered in Stratford, or Bankside, it would have been mentioned in all books on the life of Shakespeare since its discovery in 1985, it has not been mentioned once. [As with the Northumberland Manuscript, the above White Hart Inn scenes should be scientifi cally researched and studied. See Acknowledgments in this Journal of my conversation with Dave at the Verulamium Museum in St. Alban regarding this Inn. I should mention that this gentleman’s real name has been changed, as was his request.] 5. Bacon’s royal parentage, the reason for his anonymity as author. Also, one of the six rules imposed on members of the Rosicrucian order, was anonymity for a hundred years. [After extensive research on my project of the Ripper in the screenplay Arrow to the Moon (2004), I found that the following twelve rules exist amongst Rosicrucians: Rule one: love God above all Rule two: devote your time to your Spiritual advancement Rule three: be entirely unselfi sh Rule four: be temperate, modest, energetic, and silent Rule fi ve: learn to know the origin of the metals contained within the self Rule six: beware of those who teach what they do not know Rule seven: live in constant adoration of the highest good Rule eight: learn the theory before you attempt the practice Rule nine: exercise charity towards all beings Rule ten: read the ancient books of wisdom Rule eleven: try to understand their secret meaning Rule twelve: The Arcanum “inexpressible in the language of mortals, and it can, therefore, only be communicated heart to heart.”—Franz Hartmann 628 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

I shall not disclose here my results of who Jack the Ripper was; it would seem an inappropriate place to do so and there are reputations that do not deserve to suffer, since these people are no longer alive to defend themselves; besides, where would the Ripperologist weave his web? All I may say is that those hideous crimes offered an alibi that cloaked the shoulders of the most extravagant treasure that resided in London during the Ripper surge.] 6. Bacon’s knowledge of Hermetic, Rosicrucian, Neoplatonic and Cabbalistic teaching. Rosicrucian themes are found in: Bacon’s New Atlantis As You Like It Love’s Labour’s Lost Venus and Adonis The Sonnets 7. The nonsense word in Love’s Labour’s Lost, honorifi cabilitudinitatibus. This is a Latin anagram: hi ludi F. Bacon nati tuiti orbi, these plays born of F. Bacon are preserved for the world. [A word proverbial for its length, that occurs in a charter dated a.d. 1187 and also used in the Complaynt of Scotland, 1548-9. It was used in Love’s Labour Lost that was acted in 1597 and by Thomas Nash in 1599 in a pamphlet Lenten Stuffe. See Genesis chapter in these Journals for an explanatory on this word and fi gure of poesies used.] 8. Letter from Bacon to King James, Nov.1622: “for my pen, if contemplative, going on with The Historie of Henry the Eighth.” Letter from Bacon to the Duke of Buckingham, 21 February 1623. Prince Charles “who, I hope, ere long will make me leave King Henry VIII., and set me on work in relation to His Majesty’s adventures.” Letter from Bacon to the Duke of Buckingham, 26 June 1623: “since you say the Prince hath not forgot his commandment touching my history of Henry VIII.” January 1623. Bacon applied to the records offi ce for the loan of archive documents relating to the reign of Henry VIII. December 1623 The Historie of King Henry VIII printed for the fi rst time in the Shakespeare First Folio. [From the chapter Quirinus 1617 to 1622 in this Journal: “With fi nal approval from the Bishop of London, two of my works see print: The Historie of the Raigne of King Henry VII., a reign in England from 1485 to 1509: as Meautys tells, the printer’s fi ngers itched to be selling, and of my second work The History of the Reign of K. Henry the Eighth, K. Edward, Q. Mary, and part of the reign of Q. Elizabeth.” First printed in the Cabala, Ed. 1663, p. 254.]

DODD, Alfred “A Past Master of the Craft, having discovered the Secret of the Sonnets, that was “veiled in Allegory and illustrated by Symbol,” considered it to be for the Honour of the Fraternities, the Beneﬁ t of Humanity, and the Vindication of Genius that the true sonnet arrangement Lochithea 629 and interpretation should be made known to all the world.”—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon. org)

DUPUY, Paul J. Jr An Authorship Analysis (www.ﬂ y.hiwaay.net/~paul/outline.html) A Web site maintained for anyone interested in searching a little deeper.

FELLOWS, Virginia Born in the tiny prairie town of Jordan Valley, Oregon sixty miles from the closest rail- road. Her parents, easterners themselves, had heeded the popular call of their day to “Go west, young man”. Later they moved to the more metropolitan area of Boise, Idaho and there Virginia began her education. She attended Scripps College in Claremont, California and graduated from the University of Washington at Seattle. Transported to Michigan at the time of her marriage, she continued her education at the University of Michigan while raising four children. She considers several trips to Europe, India, South America and the Paciﬁ c Islands to have been an important part of that education. Intrigued from childhood by the mysterious and the unfamiliar, after her family left home, she discovered the fascination of mystical studies that led her to spend time at the one- of-a-kind Summit University in Pasadena, California (S.U. is now located in Montana). It was there that her fascination with the remarkable world of Francis Bacon began. Her book, The Shakespeare Code explains a few of the amazing facts that she discovered after years of research about this great and only partially understood philosopher. Although she has numerous articles and pamphlets published on the subject, this is her ﬁ rst full-length book. She plans a second book that will delve into the further mysteries of occult wisdom in which Bacon was involved after his so-called “philosophic” death.

FOWLER, Rob (www.light-of-truth.com) The Web site “is a work of love. The discoveries and theories presented are for the beneﬁ t of the entire world.”

FULLER, Jean Overton An honors graduate in English from the University of London and has also undertaken post-graduate work in phonetics and comparative philology. In addition to Sir Francis Bacon, Jean has written biographies of Swinburne, Shelley, Blavatsky and Her Teachers, The Comte de Germain, as well as the best-selling Madeline (reissued in an expanded form as Noor-un-Nisa Inayat Khan. This is the biography of Noor-un-Nisa, daughter of Inayat Khan the Suﬁ Master, whose heroism during World War II was posthumously recognized by awards of the George Cross and the Croix de Guerre. She is a modern model of courageous devotion to one’s ideal. 630 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Jean lives north of London where she likes to paint in her free time. One of her favorite subjects to paint are her cats and she even published a book Cats and Other Immortals containing portraits and stories about them.—Lawrence Gerald [An interview with Jean Fuller, held July 2nd, 1994, by Lawrence Gerald can be found on Sir Francis Bacon’s New Advancement of Learning Web site (www.sirbacon.org)]

GERALD, Lawrence [Plus Ultra: the motto to Bacon’s device of a ship sailing through the Pillars of Hercules, and the remainder of the title is both in tone and language clearly Baconian.] A previous Francis Bacon Society Member, maintains a well-developed and constantly updated Web site since 1999 (www.sirbacon.org) Lawrence runs his beliefs parallel to Alfred Dodd’s concept, that “there is, moreover, a greater mystery in Francis Bacon’s life than such biographers ever dreamed, a hidden life, the life of a man who was building great bases for Eternity to the glory of God and the good of humanity.” According to Lawrence, an interesting approach to prove if Bacon and Essex were the sons of Queen Elizabeth I., would be to obtain tmDNA samples from the bones of Queen Elizabeth I., and also from Bacon. Personally, being a Baconian since childhood, I ﬁ nd this a challenging venture to all scientists who would be willing to append their results to British History. Scientist should delve into four important matters; one, the Northumberland Manuscript; two, the White Hart Inn scenes at St. Albans; three, obtaining tmDNA samples from the bones of Queen Elizabeth I., and also from Bacon; four, the investigation of the Promus.

HILLIARD, Nicholas (1547–1619) English painter of the Renaissance. In 1584 he designed Queen Elizabeth I’s second Great Seal. On the accession of James I., in 1603, his appointment as limner to the crown was continued, but he seems to have found the atmosphere of the new court less congenial to his art.

HOLMES, Nathaniel Judge “When Bacon’s Essay of Gardens and the Shakespeare play, Winter’s Tale are read together, written as they both are, in that singular style of elegance, brevity, and beauty, and depth of science, which is so markedly characteristic of this author, whether in verse or prose, it becomes next to impossible to doubt of his identity.” The Authorship of Shakespeare. [A note also well taken and observed by Spedding: “The scene in Winter’s Tale, where Perdita presents the guests with ﬂ owers suited to their ages, has some expressions which, if this Essay had been contained in the earlier edition, would have made me suspect that Shakespeare had been reading it.”—Works, vol. xii. p. 235. See Genesis chapter of this Journal. And then in his Works, vol. vi, p. 322 after introducing Bacon’s points in the Adv. Lochithea 631 book ii, “can it be doubted but that there are some who take more pleasure in enjoying pleasures than some other, and yet nevertheless are less troubled with the loss of leaving of them?” Spedding notes the reader to “compare Shakspeare’s sonnet—[note how he has written the name]—I cannot chuse but weep to have that which I fear to lose.”]

JOKINEN, Anniina The Web site (www.luminarium.org) contains a good listing of major Bacon works available.

KATHMAN, David and ROSS Terry (www.shakespeareauthorship.com) They both manage this Web site which is dedicated to demonstrating that the plays and poems generally attributed to William Shakespeare were indeed written by him. Articles on this page have become required reading for many High School and College English courses around the world, and the New York Times lists Terry and Dave as two of the four writers in a “formidable cadre” devoted to defending the traditional attribution.

LEARY, Thomas ‘Penn’ (1921–2005) (www.home.att.net/~tleary) His Web site offers some strong emphasis on Elizabethan cipher.

MATHEWS, Nieves (1917–2003) An author of Scottish and Spanish parentage. Her father was the distinguished Spanish diplomat and scholar Salvador de Madariaga. Her mother was the distinguished economic historian Constance Archibald. Nieves was the older of 2 daughters. She was not allowed to be baptized because of her father’s anti-clericalism. She is the mother of two sons, Luis Solana, a former Spanish telephone executive who opposed Franco’s dictatorship and was imprisoned for his political activities. Her younger son, Javier Solana, is a well-known Spanish politician, who was the former head of NATO, and is now the European Union foreign policy chief. She was employed for upwards of 20 years by the Food and Agriculture Organization, a United Nations agency headquartered in Rome. Her Yale University-published book on the life of Sir Francis Bacon was released in 1996. The 606 page volume is called Francis Bacon: The History of a Character Assassination. She claimed in her acknowledgements that the book was suggested and blessed by “my teacher, Osho” (Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh), “who thought highly of Sir Francis Bacon and gave the book his blessing.” She was also deeply inﬂ uenced by the works of Immanuel Velikovsky.

MAURIER, Daphne du (1907–1989) Is the well-known author of Rebecca, and the daughter of a famous actor, Sir Gerald du Maurier. In 1969 she was awarded a DBE. 632 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

PATRICK, Max (www.ourcivilisation.com/smartboard/shop/patrickm/bacon/index.htm) Professor taught at a variety of universities in the American continent, from Manitoba to Florida, including Princeton and Emory. In 1959, as a Fulbright Professor at the Centre d’Studes Saperieures de la Renaisance in Tours, he ranged from Algiers to Tours as a visiting lecturer. He was (1961) a Professor of English in the Graduate School of New York University.

PORTA, Giambattista della (John Baptist Porta 1535–1615) An Italian natural philosopher whose experimental research in optics and other ﬁ elds was undermined by his credulous preoccupation with magic and the miraculous. Della Porta founded the Accademia dei Segreti, which was later suppressed by the Inquisition, and in 1610 he took part in the reconstitution of the Accademia dei Lincei. He travelled widely in Italy, France, and Spain.

POTT, Henry (Constance) (1862–1957) “Mrs. Pott started the Francis Bacon Society with it’s fi rst meeting in December of 1885. The next year it offi cially became a Society. Mrs. Pott is the author of Francis Bacon and His Secret Society and arranged the publication of Bacon’s private notebook The Promus of Formularies and Elegancies; Private Notes, circa. 1594-6.”—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) In the nineteenth century, a waste book entitled The Promus of Formularies and Elegancies was discovered containing 1,655 hand written proverbs, metaphors, aphorisms, salutations and other miscellany. Although some entries appear original, many have been drawn from the Latin and Greek writers Seneca, Horace, Virgil, Ovid; John Heywood’s Proverbes (1562); Marcel de Montaigne’s Essays (1575), and various other French, Italian and Spanish sources. Apart from a section at the end, Sir Edward Maunde-Thompson declared the writing to be in Bacon’s hand, and in fact his signature appears on folio 115 verso. Only two folios of the waste book were dated, the third sheet (5 December 1594) and the 32nd sheet (27 January 1595 [that is, 1596]). Many of these entries also occur in Shakespeare’s First Folio. Given below is an extract from the Preface of The Promus of Formularies and Elegancies written by E.A. Abbott published in 1883.—Courtesy of (www.sirbacon.org) Preface When a book is written to demonstrate something, an explanation seems necessary to show why an introduction to it should be written by one who is unable to accept the demonstration. If it may be allowed to use the fi rst personal pronoun in order to distinguish between the writer of this introduction and the author of the book, the needful explanation can be briefl y and clearly given. Though not able to believe that Francis Bacon wrote Shakespeare’s Plays-which is the main object of the publication of this book, I nevertheless cannot fail to see very much in the following pages that will throw new light on the style both of Bacon and of Shakespeare, and consequently on the structure and capabilities of the English language. Lochithea 633

On one point also I must honestly confess at I am a convert to the author. I had formerly thought that, considering the popularity of Shakespeare’s Plays, it was diffi cult to explain the total absence from Bacon’s works of any allusion to them, and the almost total absence of any phrases that might possibly be borrowed from them. The author has certainly shown that there is a very considerable similarity of phrase and thought between these two great authors. More than this, the Promus seems to render it highly probable, if not absolutely certain, that Francis Bacon in the year 1594 had either heard or read Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Let the reader turn to the passage in that play where Friar Laurence lectures Romeo on too early rising, and note the italicized words: But where unbruised youth with unstuff’d brain Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign: Therefore thy earliness doth me assure Thou art up-roused by some distemperature. Romeo and Juliet, ii. 3, 40. Now let him turn to entries 1207 and 1215 in the following pages, and he will fi nd that Bacon, among a number of phrases relating to early rising, has these words, almost con- secutively, ‘golden sleep’ and ‘uprouse.’ One of these entries would prove little or nothing; but anyone accustomed to evidence will perceive that two of these entries constitute a coincidence amounting almost to a demonstration that either (1) Bacon and Shakespeare borrowed from some common and at present unknown source; or (2) one of the two borrowed from the other. The author’s belief is (pp. 95-7) that the play is indebted for these expressions to the Promus; mine is that the Promus borrowed them from the play. But in any case, if the reader will refer to the author’s comments on this passage (pp. 65-7) he will fi nd other similarities between the play and the Promus, which indicate borrowing of some sort.

RAWLEY, Dr. William (1588–1667) Bacon’s private chaplain, and literary executor following Bacon’s death. He released considered selections from previously unpublished manuscript fragments, keeping back a certain proportion. On his death, the remaining manuscripts passed to Thomas Tenison.

SPEDDING, James (1808–1881) Born in Cumberland, educated at the Grammar School of Bury St. Edmund’s, where among his friends and contemporaries were some of the sons of Sir Samuel Romilly, and John Kemble, afterwards eminent as a philologist and antiquarian. Though he never took a high degree nor obtained a fellowship, Spedding was an accomplished classical scholar. In 1841 he applied himself to edit the works and vindicate the fame of Lord Bacon that accompanied Spedding for nearly thirty years. [Many biographers, and sometimes Baconians, have occasionally spoken against Spedding’s research or that he did not see that Bacon wrote the Shakespeare works. Should a London cab not have taken his life so abruptly, I believe Spedding would have delved into this matter, regardless of his views and late years in life; of his numerous comments of his ﬁ ndings, 634 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals as in Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale and Bacon’s Essay Of Gardens, allows me to assume this. And in Bacon’s History of King Henry VII, Spedding tells the reader that the passage “nay himself with long and continual counterfeiting and with often telling a lie, was turned (by habit) almost into the thing he seemed to be, and from a liar to a believer” to compare it with Shakespeare’s Tempest— Like one Who having unto Truth, by telling oft, Made such a sinner of his memory To credit his own lie, he did belive He was indeed the Duke.]

TENISON, Thomas (1636–1715) Archbishop of Canterbury, an early Baconian and in effect Bacon’s literary executor after the death of William Rawley. His publication of Baconiana, Or Certain Genuine Remains of Sr. Francis Bacon, Baron of Verulam, and Viscount of St. Albans (1679) is a landmark in Bacon studies due to its open acknowledgement of Bacon as a concealed author in the following words: “And those who have true skill in the Works of the Lord Verulam, like great Masters in Painting, can tell by the Design, the Strength, the way of Colouring, whether he was the Author of this or the other Piece, though his Name be not to it.”—Tenison’s Baconiana, 1679, p.78

THEOBALD, Robert His work can be found on Lawrence Gerald’s Web site Sir Francis Bacon’s New Advancement of Learning (www.sirbacon.org).

THEOBALD, Bertram G. He made a remarkable discovery on Dr. Rawley’s Epitaph in 1940 that was published by the Bacon Society (Inc.) as a tribute to the memory of the late Mr. Theobald, for eight years its President, and in grateful recognition of his services and generosity to its members. [See chapter King of Pleasure in this Journal.]

TWAIN, Mark or Clemens, Samuel Langhorne (1835–1910) An American humorist, satirist, writer, and lecturer. Twain is most noted for his novels Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, which has since been called the Great American Novel, and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. He is also known for his quotations. During his lifetime, Clemens became a friend to presidents, artists, leading industrialists, and European royalty. Clemens enjoyed immense public popularity, and his keen wit and incisive satire earned him praise from both critics and peers. American author William Faulkner called Twain “the father of American literature.” Is Shakespeare Dead? Lochithea 635

WALKER, Mather Mather Walker demonstrates in his short essay, Muses Welcome how this book is associated with the hand of Francis Bacon. The essay can be found on Lawrence Gerald’s Web site: (www.sirbacon.org).

In memory of every name my secret be seen () Arundel, 2nd Earl of Bacon, Anthony Bacon, Lady Anne Bacon, Sir Nicholas Boswell, Sir William Burton, Robert Camden, William Dee, Dr. John Dixon, W. Hepworth Dodd, Alfred Ellis, R. L. Fratres Roseae Crucis Gallup Wells, Elizabeth Hall, Marie Bauer Heath, D.D. Hilliard, Nicholas Jonson, Ben Leary, Thomas ‘Penn’ Leigh, R. William Marlowe, Kit Matthew, Sir Tobie Mathews, Nieves Maurier, Daphne du Meautys, Sir Thomas Navarre, De Marguerite Paulet, Sir Amyas Porta, Giambattista della (John Baptist Porta Raleigh, Sir Walter Rawley, Dr. William Spedding, James Tenison, Thomas Twain, Mark Wheeler, Harvey Whit-Gift, Prof. Wrigley, Elizabeth About the Author

Educated at Claremont High School, Blackpool, and Rapid Results College, London, parallel to her College training as a Mind & Body Specialist and Pilates/Yoga Trainer, has been a Congress Organizer DMC to the following prestigious events in Greece:

International Continence Society (ICS) 26th Annual Meeting Athens, 27–30 August, 1996 Chairman: Prof. George Barbalias

South-East European Society for Neurology and Psychiatry Thessaloniki, 16–19 October, 2003 President: Prof. Ioannis Milonas

European Society of Pediatric Otorhinolaryngology (ESPO) Conference Athens, May 16–19 2004 President, Prof. Nikolo Simasko

For a period of two years, she worked as personal assistant to Prof. Andreas Katsambas, President of Sygrou Hospital in Athens, and Secretary-General to the EADV Society based in Switzerland. Her travels to Paris, Nice, Sydney, Geneva and Prague, offered her the opportunity to study various languages: French, Japanese, Spanish, Latin, and she is currently ﬂ uent in Greek. After graduating from College, she studied at The Royal Schools of Music, London, attaining her 5 Level degrees in theory of music and Harmony and classical piano repertoire. She was awarded by the Greek School of Arts with merits after her piano concerto recital at the Greek School of Arts in 2000. She now devotes her time, during the winter period, teaching professional ﬁ tness instruc- tors the Pilates Contrology Method and various forms of Yoga. In 2004 she published a book on the Pilates technique with iUniverse Publishers, ISBN: 0-595-31925-4.

Her specialized area of interest has been in the research of Sir Francis Bacon and in writing. Her screenplay, Arrow to the Moon, based on Jack the Ripper, was selected as a

639 640 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

quarterﬁ nalist in the American Screenwriter Association’s 9th Annual International Screenplay Competition, 2006, and was also requested by Marjacq Scripts Agency, UK, for representation and noted by the BBC Writersroom for consideration late 2006. Her other interests involve writing poetry of which she received third place award by the Open Poetry Competition, USA, in 1995 and Editor’s Poetry Choice Recognition in 1996; enjoying good witty company; Bacospearian conversations and meeting other Baconians. She is currently working on vol. ii of Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals that will involve his connection with Shakespearean literature and their cryptic labyrinth bond. The author now resides in Greece with her father, a retired British government ofﬁ cial, and with her sister who was born deaf and blind. Lord Verulam’s Lexicon

Each has its own special power assigned to it, and its strength is its own —Francis Bacon That which can be imitated is potentially common —Francis Bacon

It all began when my mother gave me a book entitled English Men of Letters, edited by John Morley and printed in New York by Harper & Brothers in 1894. Possibly an unattractive book for a twelve-year-old, at the time that I was, yet, most of my parents’ presents were books of such content; evidence that I was not brought up on romantic fairytales, but ﬂ ew on the wings of the Masters of the Universe. In this book, which is volume vi and that I still possess, were the lives of three Masters: John Bunyan (1628–1688), Dr. Samuel Johnson (1709–1784) and my Lord Verulam, Sir Francis Bacon (1561–1626). The life of Bunyan was advantageous to my young eyes; the life of Johnson was intriguing to my PeterPanian heart, and of course the life of Bacon (that I had already met from previous literature) was as always ongoing to my constant fabulational adventures. It is of one comment by Dr. Johnson that was webbed into the pages of his life, which triggered this lexicon: “A Dictionary of the English language might be compiled from Bacon’s works alone.” It is not accidental that this lexicon was compiled by researching many sources of which I may always owe my overwhelming gratitude. I claim not to be a lexicographer and therefore hope that this simple lexicon will be a pit for some professional lexicographer who shall delve into it and be able to bring forth a weighty lexicon to fulﬁ l the words of a dictionary; is it not time? It is in memory of my mother that I dedicate this section.

“The ages of nymphs and demons of the air, who are represented as mortal, yet as very long- lived (a thing that has been admitted by the superstition and credulity of the ancients, and even by some in modern times), [probably alludes to the Rosicrucians], I hold to be fables and dreams; especially as they agree neither with philosophy nor religion.”—Francis Bacon, Historia Vitæ et Mortis, Length and Shortness of Life in Man, 22.

“They that write books on the worthlessness of glory, take care to put their names on the title page.”—Francis Bacon, Essay LIV.

641 642 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

A materials of invention should be arranged; a word used in the same way by Cicero, Abated: beat down; to batter. who probably took it from the Stoics. About an age: about the same age. Accepted of: redundant. B Accidents: symptoms. Baconis: Latin., Bacon Acroamatic: enigmatic. Bahorn: Bacon and crown; unicorn. Adam’s sin arouse from pride: Dante’s Barking monsters: rumourists. Paradiso, vii. Base populace: base, popular. Age and nation: during his life time and the country he lived. Better spoken: well spoken. Alarum: alarm; of importance. Betwixt: between. Amplifi cation: exaggeration. Bishops of Rome: popes. Antitheta: Greek., Αντίθετα; on the Bleed afresh: the wounds of a body slain contrary. will bleed afresh upon the approach of the murderer. Apophthegms: Latin., Mucrones verborum; speeches with a point or edge; not for plea- Bred nor fed: Commonplace Book, Dr. sure only and ornament, but also for action Rawley, Lambeth Library: “He said he had and business. breeding swans and feeding swans; but for malice, he neither bred it nor fed it.” Aristotle’s Philosophy: only strong for disputations and contentions, but barren Britaine: Bretagne; Brittany; Britain. of the production of works for the benefi t British Solomon: title describing King of the life of man. James I., by his fl aterers. Artire: Latin., aspera arteria; wind-pipe. Busy nibbling: talking about. Arts of Nature: working upon and altering nature by art. C As: that. Cambaline: Khambalik; Tartar name for Atalanta’s ball: Adv. ii; hinders the race Peking. of invention. Carefulness: anxiety. Axiomata: Greek., αξίωμα; axiom; dig- Caveat: warning. nity; derived from Peter Ramus (1515– Censure: opinion. 1572) a French philosopher, logician, and rhetorician identifying logic with dialec- Challenging: claiming. tic, neglected the traditional role that logic Character: an impression. played as a method of inquiry and empha- Claver: clover. sised instead the equally traditional view that logic is the method of disputation, its Clear: prove. two parts being invention, the process of Coarctation: Latin., narrowing. discovering proofs in support of the thesis, Comfort, be a: comfortable thing. and disposition, which taught how the Lochithea 643

Compass and comprehend: embrace and Doubt: fear. take in. Doubtful consequence: dangerous. Conceit: conceived in the mind. Draconibus: Latin., draco; the great circle Confi ned and circumscribed: limited which is approximately the projection on and bounded. the sphere of the moon’s orbit. Conquer, no more to: no more worlds. Dread-nought: galleon. Consensuum: Latin., consensus; Greek., Dry light: Essay 27, “Heraclitus saith well συμπάθεια; sybathia; sympathy. in one of his Enigmas; Dry light is ever the Contentation: satisfaction. best.” Continent, the: that which contains. E Contristation: sadness. Eclipsed: change of the moon; Bacon’s Corrective spice: antidote. fainting fi ts when the moon was in an Counsel: counsell; councell; modern eclipse. distinction between council, counsel, Embolum: Greek., έμβολο; piston; ram; councillor, counsellor was not observed in ramrod. Bacon’s time. Empiric: Greek., εμπειρία; ebiria; Countenance and prefer: favour and experience. promote. Employment, for not: for not being Countenance: appearance. employed. Cretine: cresco; fl oods. Endeavour: attempt. Cuff: fi st blow. Ephemeredes: Greek., εφημερίδες; newspa- Curious: careful. pers; calendar. Estate: position; state. D Ever-living: deceased. Deductio nonsensibilis ad sensibile: Extend: distend. Latin., in the second kind. Depravation: slander. F Desiring: humbly praying. Fabulations: fabulous; word coined by Devout: religious. Lochithea. Difference: mark; blazoning arms upon Falleth out: happens. monuments. Final Causes: the classifi cation of physics Diploma: charter. and metaphysics. Disdains: scorn; disdain. Find passage: to fi nd a way through. Divines: theologians. Flowing: copious, yet well arranged. Does little good: of little matter in the For: as regards. result. Doth: does. 644 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Framed particulars: a scheme complete Highest link: natural phenomena is in all detail. directed by God. Francis: free. Hit: hid; it. Frankalmoigne: a case where the King Hold way with: to equal. grants lands of the Templers to hold as the Holding of the subject: partaking of the Templers did. nature of a subject. Fume: foolish idea; smoke. Honourable author: stated by W. Rawley in his Life of the Right Honourable Francis G Bacon, Baron of Verulam, Viscount St. Alban from Resuscitatio, 1657; also prefi xed Garyophylli: Latin., caryophyllea; a fl ower to the Life in Resuscitatio, 1661. cultivated in Holland; the tulip; Lemmius: De Miraculis, p. 107, 1581. Humorous: capricious. Genesis: Greek., Γένεσεις; origin; Hurt than enable: unfi t than qualify. beginning. Hypocrisiæ: Greek., υποκρισία; two faced. Gentle: a noble. Gnaw: nibble. I Gnostes: Greek., Γνώστες; scholars. Idol: Greek., Είδωλο; Idolo; Latin., Idolon; Good to deliver: well worth mentioning. doctrine of fallacies to ordinary logic; false notions which have taken posses- Gratis: Latin., without taking any money sion of men’s minds; Valerius Terminus, c. for them. 17: “That if any have had or shall have the Great Britain: title coined Bacon; uniting power and resolution to fortify and inclose his the crowns of England and Scotland under mind against all anticipations, yet if he have one monarchy; Hamlet (1604) a constitu- not been or shall not be cautioned by the full tional law noted, iv, ii, 24–27; Spedding: understanding of the nature of the mind and Works, vol. x p. 204–207. spirit of man, and therein of the seats, pores, Greater fortune: English crown. and passages both of knowledge and error, he hath not been, nor shall not be, possibly able Greese: Greece. to guide or keep on his course aright;.” In the Novum Organum the doctrine of idols seems H to have been esteemed one of its most Half-pace: dais; part raised by a low step important portions. above the rest of the fl oor. Ignorance severally disguised: concealing Hastivibrans: Latin., Speare Shaker. itself under various forms. Hath: has. Immediate: present. Hermes Stella: to throw a kind of star- Incensivos: Latin., exciting. light on the subject, enough te prevent Induce: bring on. the student’s losing his way, but not much Infant in the mother’s womb is com- more within the new philosophy. patible with the mother: Advancement Hic jacet: Latin., here lies. of Learning, ii; Latin., simul cum matribus Lochithea 645

affectibus compatitur; suffers together with misinterpreted statement by modern the mother. Bacon biographers that William Rawley Inquination: Greek., μόλυνση; infection; “for though he was a great reader of books, unpure body. yet he had not his knowledge from books.” As seen in the Latin version: “not from books Inquisition: investigation; inquiry. only.” Inscrutable: proverb xxv; Bacon’s Essay 19. L Insinuate: Latin., sinus; bend; introduce L particella: a small part of. indirectly. L regere: to rule. Instance: observation. Lighteth well: talks well. Instauratio: Latin., divided into six portions: 1. general survey of the present state Literary Works, Bacon’s: works intended of knowledge 2. how to use understanding to take their place among books. aright in the investigation of Nature 3. all Little threads: small life; non-existent the phenomena of the universe to be stored life. up in a treasure-house, as the material on Live twice a day: one life is not enough; which the new method is to be employed obsession. 4. examples given of its operation and of the results to which it leads 5. contains Lochithea: Greek., Λογχηθέα; speare what Bacon had accomplished in natural viewer. philosophy without the aid of his own Lūmen siccum: Latin., a dry light; a dull method 6. the new philosophy set forth. light; offering no revelation of interest; Invent: Latin., invenire; to ﬁ nd out. Advancement of Learning ii., “But this same Lumen siccum, doth parch and offend most mens Is of: is one of. watry and soft natures.” It is good a little: coined Bacon; less is more. Spedding: Works, vol i, pp. 159– M 160: “Bacon’s Idols was originally three.” See Bacon’s Temporis Partus Masculus. Made him very much spoken of: reputation precedes one J Magis quam imbibitio: Latin., how greatly absorbed. Job: distinguished person in the Jewish Scriptures for patience under trials and Malignity: injurious property. misfortune. Man did give names: Adam gave names Judicious: Latin., experientiâ edoctus; more to creatures and things in the garden of judicious; by experience and observation. Eden. Manners: morals. K Manured: cultivated. Knowledge from books (had not his): Mattacina: Florio: a kind of moresco or mat- Ex libris tamen solis scientiam suam depromp- tachino dance. sisse haudquaquam concedere licet; a much May well appear: obvious. 646 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

May well appear: obvious. Nine Worthies: satire written by Richard Mayor: major. Lloyd in 1584. Mediocria fi rma: Bacon’s family motto Nothing parcel of: Latin., particella; no from the Latin., the middle way is sure; part of; a small part. moderation is strength; the middle course Novum Organum: Latin., published in is most secure. 1620. Melocotones: Greek., μήλο; apple; κυδώνι; quince. O Mente videbor: Latin., by the mind I O’erlook: to cast a spell; the evil eye; shall be seen. Greek., το μάτι. Merely: entirely. O’ershoot: extremity Merely: Latin., merus. pure; unmixed; Oblation: sacrifi ce; offering. entirely. Obnoxious: when one man stands in such Methinks: I think a relation to another that he is not free to Mild: History of King Henry VII; changed act as he otherwise would. from debonnaire by King James I. Of late: referring to someone Militar: in Bacon’s later works; militare; posthumously. military, in Bacon’s earlier works. Old Father Thames: Thames River in Ministereth: supplies. London. Misanthropi: Greek., μισάνθρωπιο; half Old-faced: looking old. man. Omphacio: Latin., wine made of Mischance: misfortune. sour grapes; Pliny, xiv. 18; verjuice by Lemmius. Moniti meliora: Bacon’s family motto from the Latin., being instructed to be Opera basilica: Latin., works for a King. better. Optimum elige, suave et facile illud Motive: there are six categories of motive, faciet consuetudo: Latin., choose the and they are elimination, gain, revenge, best—custom will make it pleasant and jealousy, lust and conviction. easy. Mought: might (according to Spedding). Ordinances and decrees: laws of nature. Multitude: people. Ou: describes sound which we should now describe by oo. Mystery-men: their business was to inquire after mysteries, crafts. Out-compass itself: exceed its proper limits. N P Naturæ minister: Latin., Greek., φυσικώς υπηρέτης; nature’s servant; physician. Paguin: Peking. Naturæ notas: Latin., fi xed in the nature Painted out: depicted. of things. Palabras: nonsense. Lochithea 647

Pannage: swine-food; acorns. Proplasticis: Latin., mould of casting. Parfi te: perfect. Proprieties: properties. Particular: condition. Prudens: wise. Pedantical: Latin., ignorant of affairs. Publish him/her: openly speak about Pen-fed: fed in confi nement. him/her. Permissio Intellectûs: Latin., in this Purchase he did not seek: profi t. process the mind is suffered to follow the course most natural to it. Q Petrelæum: Latin., petroleum; Greek., Quinzy: Quinsai of Marco Polo. πετρέλαιο; petrol; fule. Quirinus: Latin., Spearman. Philomancy: divination from the rustling of leaves. R Philosopher: not merely to contemplate the works of the Creator, but also Rape of Lucretia: Shakespearean litera- to employ the knowledge thus obtained ture published in 1593, based on Ovid’s for the relief of man’s estate; the father of Fasti. Salomon’s House—The New Atlantis. Receipts: prescriptions. Pick-thanks: seek to win. Recorder: fl ute. Pine-apple: cone of a pine. Redgrave: Gorhambury. Poesy: a part of learning in measure of Regiment: Latin., regere; to rule; educa- words for the most part restrained, but in tion; government. all other points extremely licensed, and Regular: strictly to rules. doth truly refer to the Imagination. Representing you many times into my Portmanteau: a satchel of the day; it is mind: thinking of you. stated that Kit Marlowe (1564–1593) had Representing: bringing before the mind; one in his possession, that contained some calling to view; Advancement of Learning, important government material, when he book ii, p. 73. was eliminated. Respective: appropriate. Poser: examiner. Revolve: refl ect upon. Precedent pact: such pact implying that it was in ones right to reign. Rhetoric: Adv. ii; De Aug. vi; to apply reason to imagination; rhetoric being Pregnancy: swelling of; multitude of. to the imagination what logic is to the Principal study: chief concern. understanding. Proceeding upon: resulting from. Robe of honour: title. Profane: secular. Rode: road. Prolongation of life: Roger Bacon: Tract Romano Giulio: (1495–1546) sculptor; on the art of prolonging life, published in mentioned in Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale Paris 1542 and in English in 1617. about the statue of Hermione. 648 Sir Francis Bacon’s Journals

Rosa solis: herb that makes strong waters; Sovereign: supreme. ros solis; Greek., δροσερά ροτόντιφωλιά; Speare Shaker: Latin., hastivibrans. drosera rotundifolia; sundew. Spearman: Latin., quirinus. Roundeth about: wanders around; rumour; Ecclesiast. ii. 13,14. Speculum: Latin., lens; specs. Rule over: decides. Spell-stopped: spell-bound. Spiculijactum: Latin., archer’s term. S Spirit: mind. Sagittarie: sagittarius. State: Latin., canopeum; a canopy; coach. Saith: said. Steganographia: cipher method; the second letter of each word carries the secret Saucy fears: sharp fears. message. Scanted: limited. Stood upon: dwelt upon. Semper eadem: Queen Elizabeth I’s fam- Stood upon: dwelt upon. ily motto from the Latin., ever the same. Such a light: triﬂ ing observation to make Sequestered: obscured; to sequester; to a truth ﬂ ash upon one’s mind. put on one side. Such are the minds of men: how men Servile: slavish, mean. think. Shakespeare: Elizabethan writer. Swell: pride. Shaksper: Elizabethan actor. Swelling: pride; puffed up with pride. Shew: show. Sylva Sylvarum: Hebraism., optima Ships and boats under water: The New sylva; Greek., ύλη; materials out of which Atlantis, 1624; one of Drebbel’s inventions anything is to be constructed; supply the exhibited in 1620. materials with which the new philosophy Si tabula darentur digna animam malis to be built up. lem: Latin., if one could but paint his mind. T Silenced: not talked of. ’Tis: it is; it’s. Six days’ work: relates entirely to the Tabernacle: Latin., taberna; Greek., Divine action on the earth’s surface, and ταβέρνα; a temporary dwelling. the objects visible from it, at the beginning of the present epoch of humanity. Table-talk: conversation at a table. Smell of the lamp: much care and study. Tacitus: Roman historian 60–120 a.d. So as: so that. Taming of the Shrew: Shakespearean literature published in 1590–91. So as: so that. Temporal: opposed to ecclesiastical. So much there is: nevertheless. Tempore patet occulta veritas: Latin., Soak: suck. hidden truth brought forth by Time; Sodam: Latin., soda; headache. Bacon’s motto on The New Atlantis. Lochithea 649

Temporis partum Masculum: Latin., Vaporous: boastful. most masculine birth of time. Vasari: Italian writer, in 1550 he wrote That: redundant; attached to if and that Romano (1495–1546) was a sculptor; though. mentioned in Shakespeare’s Winter’s Tale Thither: here. about the statue of Hermione. Thrinos: Greek., θρήνος; lamentation; Venus & Adonis: Shakespearean litera- sorrow. ture published in 1593. Thunder-claps: big noise; noise like Vicissitude of times: change of seasons. thunder. Virtue and fortune: excellence and eco- Tolerancy: tolerance. nomical position. Tradition: delivery; communication. Viva voce: Latin., speaking in person. Traduce: ridicule. W Travails: labour; journeying. Wear: decrease. Troth: truth. Weed: disguise. Trunks: telescopes. Will: sex organs. U Wit: intelligence; clever; the mind. Unawares at: necessarily. Without prejudice: without any harm being done. Unbolt: reveal. Without: beyond dispute. Unclean: impure. Wont: as of custom to do. Use: need. Y V Yea: yes. Valerius Terminus: Latin., Mr. Ellis: Works, vol i, pp. 152-3: “In the middle ages Yet I may excite: offer you interest to. no new discovery was freely published; all the Ys: this secrets, real or pretended, of the alchemists were Yt: that concealed in obscure and enigmatic language; and to mention a well known instance, the anagram in which Roger Bacon is supposed to have recorded his knowledge of the art of making gunpower is so obscure, that its meaning is even now more or less doubtful.” Valerius Terminus: probably intended to intimate that the new philosophy would put an end to the wandering of mankind in search of truth, that it would be the terminus ad quem in which when it was once attained the mind would ﬁ nally acquiesce.

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