The Second Part.
"REst you still, most gallant Lady, rest you still and weep no more!
Of fair flowers you have plenty. Spain doth yield you wondrous store. Spaniards fraught with jealousy we oft do find; But Englishmen throughout the world are counted kind."
"Leave me not unto a Spaniard! Thou alone enjoy'st my heart!
I am lovely, young, and tender. Love is likewise my desert. Still to save thee, day and night my mind is pressed: The Wife of every Englishman is counted blessed."
"It would be a shame, fair Lady, for to bear a Woman hence;
English soldiers never carry any such without offence." "I will quickly change myself, if it be so; And like a Page will follow thee, where'er thou go."
"I have neither gold nor silver to maintain thee in this case:
And to travel is great charges, as you know, in every place." "My chains and jewels every one shall be thy own! And eke a hundred pounds in gold that lies unknown."
"On the seas are many dangers. Many storms do there arise,
Which will be, to Ladies dreadful; and force tears from watery eyes." "Well in worth, I shall endure extremity: For I could find in heart to lose my life for thee!"
"Courteous Lady, leave this folly! Here comes all that breeds the strife.
I, in England, have already a sweet woman to my Wife. I will not falsify my vow for gold, nor gain; Nor yet for all the fairest Dames that live in Spain!"
"O how happy is that woman that enjoys so true a friend!
Many happy days GOD send her! and of my suit I'll make an end. On my knees, I pardon crave for my offence; Which Love and true Affection did first commence.
"Commend me to that gallant Lady! Bear to her this Chain of Gold,
With these Bracelets for a token! grieving I was so bold. All my jewels, in like sort, take thou with thee! For they are fitting for thy Wife: but not for me.
"I will spend my days in prayer! Love and all her laws defy!
In a Nunnery I will shroud me, far from any company! But ere my prayer have an end; be sure of this, To pray for thee and for thy Love, I will not miss.
"Thus Farewell, most gallant Captain! Farewell to my heart's content!
Count not Spanish Ladies wanton; though to thee my mind was bent. Joy and true prosperity remain with thee!" "The like fall unto thy share, most fair Lady!"
A very true Report of the apprehension
and taking of that arch-Papist Edmund
Campion, the Pope his right hand; with
Three other lewd Jesuit Priests, and
divers other Lay people, most
seditious persons of like sort.
Containing also a controlment of a most untrue former
book set out by one A. M., alias Anthony Munday,
concerning the same: as is to be proved and justified
by George Elliot, one of the Ordinary
Yeomen of Her Majesty's Chamber,
Author of this Book, and chiefest cause of the
finding of the said lewd and seditious people, great
enemies to GOD, their loving Prince,
and country.
Veritas non quærit angulos.
Imprinted at London at the Three Cranes in the
Vintry by Thomas Dawson.
1581.
[The Edinburgh Review of April 1891, in an article on The Baffling of the Jesuits, states
"Until Father Parsons landed at Dover on June 11 [and Father Campion on June 25], 1580; no Jesuit had ever been seen in England. Ignatius Loyola had been dead just twenty-five years, and two of his associates in founding the Society of Jesus were still alive. Loyola during his lifetime had admitted only a single Englishman into the order, a lad of nineteen, of whom we know nothing but that his name was Thomas Lith, and that he was admitted to the novitiate in June 1555. During the next ten years, six more Englishmen entered the order, two of them being men of some mark—Jasper Heywood, formerly Fellow of All Souls'; and Thomas Darbyshire, who had been Archdeacon of Essex and a Canon of St Paul's. In the next decade, about the same number of English recruits joined the society; three, and three only, were scholars of any reputation—Parsons, Campion, and Henry Garnet. When the Jesuit Mission to England started, there were not thirty English Jesuits in the world."
At Vol. I., p. 130, is a letter written from Goa, 10 Nov. 1579, by Thomas Stevens, one of these English Jesuits.
The arrest and execution of Edmund Campion—in Latin, Edmundus Campianus—was one of the most important events in our political history during the year 1581. It made a profound impression throughout Western Europe, and occasioned the publication of many tracts in various languages. For further information on this subject, the Reader is referred to Edmund Campion, A Biography, by Richard Simpson, London, 1867-8; and also to Mr Joseph Gillow's Biographical Dictionary of the English Catholics, now in progress.
The following account of the arrest by the man who made it, is printed from a copy of the extremely rare original edition that is now in Lambeth Palace Library [Press Mark, xxx. 8. 17.]. It was printed [? privately printed] in 1581; but it was not entered at Stationers' Hall. It was clearly produced before the execution of Campion, on the 1st of December of that year; to which there is no allusion in it; but apparently not very much earlier, for the Writer says at page [217], "Some men may marvel that I would be silent so long."
By this act of patriotism; George Elliot earned the titles, among the Roman Catholics, of Judas Elliot, and of Elliot Iscariot. It is however only fair to him to state what moved him to go hunting after Priests, Jesuits, etc.
Anthony Munday, in his Discovery of Edmund Campion and his Confederates, &c., published on 29th January 1582, in giving an account of Campion's trial, states:
George Elliot, one of the Ordinary Yeomen of Her Majesty's Chamber, upon his oath, gave forth in evidence, as followeth:
That he, living here in England among certain of that sect, fell in acquaintance with one Payne, a Priest; who gave him to understand of a horrible treason intended against Her Majesty and the State, which he did expect shortly to happen.
The order, how, and after what manner, in brief is thus:
That there should be levied a certain company of armed men; which, on a sudden, should enterprise a most monstrous attempt. A certain company of these armed men should be prepared against Her Majesty, as many against my L[ord] of L[eicester], as many against my L[ord] T[reasurer, Lord Burghley], as many against Sir F[rancis] W[alsingham], and divers others whose names he doth not well remember.
The deaths of these noble personages should be presently fulfilled: and Her Majesty used in such sort as [neither] modesty nor duty will suffer me to rehearse. But this should be the general cry everywhere, Meaning the Queen of Scots. [A.M.] "Queen Mary! Queen Mary!"
It was also appointed and agreed upon, Who should have this Man of Honour's room, and who should have that Office. Everything was determined. There wanted nothing but the coming over of such Priests and others as were long looked for. [p. [72.]]
Upon this report, the aforenamed George Elliot took occasion to question with this Payne, How they could find in their hearts to attempt an act of so great cruelty; considering how high an offence it should be to GOD, besides great danger might arise thereby.
A most traitorous and villanous answer. Of every true subject to be read with due reverence of the person. [A.M.]
Whereto Payne made answer, That the killing [of] Her Majesty was no offence to GOD, nor the uttermost cruelty they could use to her, nor [to] any that took her part: but that they might as lawfully do it as to a brute beast. And himself would be one of the foremost in the executing [of] this villanous and most traitorous action.
In Lansd. MS. 32, No. 60, in the British Museum, there is a paper to the same effect, signed by G. E. [George Elliot]. It is headed Certain Notes and Remembrances concerning a Reconciliation, &c.; and bears marginal notes by Lord Burghley.
It will probably be new to most readers that Elliot's arrest of Campion was a pure matter of accident. Elliot went to Lyford Manor House more particularly in search of Payne the Priest, and found Campion there by chance. The Jesuit had been secretly, but securely, wandering through the land from one Roman Catholic household to another, for more than a year; despite the utmost efforts of the English Government to put their hands on him: and at last he becomes their prisoner almost by a pure accident.
Campion was lodged in the Tower on the 22nd July 1581. Two days later, Anthony Munday's Brief Discourse of the taking of Edmund Campion &c., was entered at Stationers' Hall [Arber, Transcript &c., II. 397]. It was therefore very hurriedly written, and mainly from information supplied by Master Humphrey Foster, High Sheriff of Berkshire: who, being himself a Roman Catholic, had been very slack at the capture of Campion [p. [214]]; but who, for his own protection, puts a better face on things in Munday's hurriedly written Discourse, &c. See pages [207,] [215,] [217.]
It is as a reply to this tract of Munday's, that Elliot wrote the following Text in 1581. In February 1582, they were however good friends again; as will be seen at page [223].]
To the Christian Reader,
George Elliot wisheth
all due reverence.
SOme experience, Christian Reader, that I have gathered by keeping company with such seditious people as Campion and his associates are, partly moveth me to write this book; and partly I am urged thereunto (although my wisdom and skill be very slender to set down and pen matter of less moment than this) for that I (being one of the Two in Commission at that time from Her Highness's most honourable Privy Council for the apprehending of the said seditious Campion and such like; and the chiefest cause of the finding out of the said lewd people, as hereafter more at large appeareth) do think it a great abuse that the most part of Her Majesty's loving subjects shall be seduced to believe an untruth; and myself and he which was in Commission with me (whose name is David Jenkins, one of the Messengers of Her Majesty's Chamber) very vilely slandered with a book set out by one Anthony Munday concerning the apprehension of the said lewd people—which, for the truth thereof, is almost as far different from truth as darkness from light; and as contrary to truth as an egg is contrary in likeness to an oyster.
And therefore considering I am able to report a truth for the manner of the finding and taking of the said seditious persons; although fine skill be far from me to paint it out: hoping the wise will bear with my want therein, and esteem a true tale, be it never so bluntly told, rather than a lie, be it never so finely handled—I have emboldened myself to take this treatise in hand; wherein, God willing, I will describe nothing but truth; as by the sequel shall appear. Which is this:
That about four years past [?1578], the Devil (being a crafty fox and chief Patron doubtless of the Pope's Prelacy; having divers and many Officers and inferior substitutes to the Pope, his chief Vicar; and intending by them to increase the kingdom of this Antichrist) dispersed his said Officers in divers places of this realm: where, like vagrant persons (refusing to live within the lawful government of their country) they lead a loose life; wandering and running hither and thither, from shire to shire and country [County] to country, with such store of Romish relics, Popish pelf, trifles, and trash as were able to make any Christian heart, that hath seen the trial of such practices as I have done, even for sorrow to bleed. Only thereby to draw the Queen's Majesty's subjects their hearts and faiths both from GOD and Her Highness; as namely, by delivering unto them Bulls from Rome, Pardons, Indulgences, Medals, Agnus DEI, hallowed grains and beads, crucifixes, painted pictures, and such other paltry: every part whereof they will not let [stop] to say to be matters very necessary for salvation.
By reason whereof, most loving Reader, I myself, about that time [1578], by the space of one quarter of a year together, was deeply bewitched and drawn into their darkness, as the blindest bayard of them all. But at the last, even then (by GOD's great goodness, mighty providence, and especial grace) all their enchantments, witchcrafts, sorceries, devilish devices and practices were so broken and untied in me; and the brightness of GOD's divine majesty shining so surely in my heart and conscience: that I perceived all their doings to be, as they are indeed, only shows without substance, manifest errors and deceitful juggling casts, and none others.
Notwithstanding I determined with myself, for certain causes which I omit, to sound the depth of their devilish drifts, if I might; and the rather therefore used and frequented their company: whereby appeared unto me not a few of their ungracious and villanous false hearts, faiths, and disloyal minds, slanderous words, and most vile treasons towards my most excellent and noble mistress, the Queen's Majesty, and towards divers of her most honourable Privy Council; in such sort as many times did make mine eyes to gush out with tears for very sorrow and fear to think of it.
Wherefore, lately [about 14th May 1581], I made my humble submission unto the Right Honourable Her Highness's Privy Council, for my unlawful living as aforesaid. At whose hands I found such honourable dealing, and by their means such mercy from Her Majesty, that I wish with all my heart all the Papists, which are subjects born to Her Highness, to run the same course that I have done: and then should they easily see what difference there is between the good and merciful dealing of our most gracious loving and natural Prince; and the great treacheries of that great enemy to our country, the Pope. For Her Highness freely forgiveth offenders; but the Pope pardoneth for money. Her Grace's hands are continually full of mercy, ready to deliver enough freely to any that will desire and deserve it: and the Pope his great clutches and fists are ready to deliver nothing but devilish devices and paltry stuff of his own making, to set country and country together by the ears; and yet for these, hath he money.
Truly it is a most lamentable case that ever any Christian should be seduced and drawn from the true worshipping of GOD, and their duty to their Prince and country; as many are by the Pope and his Satanical crew. I beseech GOD turn their hearts, and grant us all amendment; which can neither be too timely, if it were presently; nor never too late, whensoever it shall happen: unless wilfully they proceed in their dealings, which GOD forbid. For humanum est errare, perseverare belluinum.
Shortly after my submission and reconciliation, as aforesaid, it pleased my Lords of Her Highness's most honourable Privy Council to grant the Commission that I before spake of, to myself and to the said David Jenkins, for the apprehension of certain lewd Jesuit Priests and other seditious persons of like sort, wheresoever we should happen to find them within England. Whereupon we determined a certain voyage [journey]: in which Edmund Campion the aforesaid Jesuit and others were by us taken and brought to the Tower of London, in manner as hereafter followeth.
The true manner of taking of Edmund
Campion and his associates.
IT happened that after the receipt of our Commission aforesaid, we consulted between ourselves, What way were best to take first? For we were utterly ignorant where, or in what place, certainly to find out the said Campion, or his compeers. And our consultation was shortly determined: for the greatest part of our travail and dealings in this service did lie chiefly upon mine own determination, by reason of mine acquaintance and knowledge of divers of [the] like sect.
It then presently came to my remembrance of certain acquaintance which I once had with one Thomas Cooper a Cook, who, in November [1578] was two years, served Master Thomas Roper of [Orpington in] Kent; where, at that time, I in like manner served: and both of us, about the same month [November 1578], departed the said Master Roper his service; I into Essex, and the said Cooper to Lyford in Berkshire, to one Master Yate. From whence, within one half year after [before May 1579], I was advertised in Essex, that the said Cook was placed in service; and that the said Master Yate was a very earnest Papist, and one that gave great entertainment to any of that sect.
Which tale, being told me in Essex two years before [1579] we entered [on] this journey, by GOD's great goodness, came to my memory but even the day before [13th July 1581] we set forth. Hereof I informed the said David Jenkins, being my fellow in Commission, and told him it would be our best way to go thither first: for that it was not meant that we should go to any place but where indeed I either had acquaintance; or by some means possible in our journey, could get acquaintance. And told him we would dispose of our journey in such sort as we might come to the said Master Yate's upon the Sunday about eight of the clock in the morning: "where," said I, "if we find the said Cook, and that there be any Mass to be said there that day, or any massing Priest in the house; the Cook, for old acquaintance and for that he supposeth me to be a Papist, will bring me to the sight thereof."
And upon this determination, we set from London [on Friday] the 14th day of July last; and came to the said Master Yate's house, the 16th of the same month, being Sunday, about the hour aforesaid.
Where, without the gates of the same house, we espied one of the servants of the house, who most likely seemed, by reason of his lying aloof, to be as it were a Scout Watcher, that they within might accomplish their secret matters more safely.
I called the said servant, and enquired of him for the said Thomas Cooper the Cook.
Who answered, That he could not well tell, whether he were within or not.
I prayed him that he would friend me so much as to see; and told him my name.
The said servant did so, it seemed; for the Cook came forth presently unto us where we sat still upon horseback. And after a few such speeches, as betwixt friend and friend when they have been long asunder, were passed; still sitting upon our horses, I told him That I had longed to see him; and that I was then travelling into Derbyshire to see my friends, and came so far out of my way to see him. And said I, "Now I have seen you, my mind is well satisfied; and so fare you well!"
"No," saith he, "that shall you not do before dinner."
I made the matter very earnest to be gone; and he, more earnest and importune to stay me. But in truth I was as willing to stay as he to have me.
And so, perforce, there was no remedy but stay we must. And having lighted from horseback; and being by him brought into the house, and so into the buttery, and there caused to drink: presently after, the said Cook came and whispered with me, and asked, Whether my friend (meaning the said Jenkins) were within the Church or not? Therein meaning, Whether he were a Papist or no?
To which I answered, "He was not; but yet," said I, "he is a very honest man, and one that wisheth well that way."
Then said the Cook to me, "Will you go up?" By which speech, I knew he would bring me to a Mass.
And I answered him and said, "Yea, for God's sake, that let me do: for seeing I must needs tarry, let me take something with me that is good."
Some men blame me for dissembling the matter as I did: but to do my Prince and country service, I hold it lawful to use any reasonable policy. For the Field is not always won by strength.
And so we left Jenkins in the buttery; and I was brought by the Cook through the hall, the dining parlour, and two or three other odd rooms, and then into a fair large chamber: where there was, at the same instant, one Priest, called Satwell, saying Mass; two other Priests kneeling by, whereof one was Campion, and the other called Peters alias Collington [or rather Colleton]; three Nuns, and 37 other people.
When Satwell had finished his Mass; then Campion he invested himself to say Mass, and so he did: and at the end thereof, made holy bread and delivered it to the people there, to every one some, together with holy water; whereof he gave me part also.
I had once my Commission in my hand to have dealt with them myself alone in the Chamber. If I had, I pray you judge what had happened unto me.
And then was there a chair set in the chamber something beneath the Altar, wherein the said Campion did sit down; and there made a Sermon very nigh an hour long: the effect of his text being, as I remember, "That Christ wept over Jerusalem, &c." And so applied the same to this our country of England for that the Pope his authority and doctrine did not so flourish here as the same Campion desired.
At the end of which Sermon, I gat down unto the said Jenkins so soon as I could. For during the time that the Masses and the Sermon were made, Jenkins remained still beneath in the buttery or hall; not knowing of any such matter until I gave him some intelligence [of] what I had seen.
And so we departed, with as convenient expedition as we might, and came to one Master Fettiplace, a Justice of the Peace in the said country [County]: whom we made privy of our doings therein; and required him that, according to the tenour of our Commission, he would take sufficient Power and with us thither.
Whereupon the said Justice of Peace, within one quarter of an hour, put himself in a readiness, with forty or fifty men very well weaponed: who went, in great haste, together with the said Master Fettiplace and us, to the said Master Yate his house.
Where, at our coming upon the sudden, being about one of the clock in the afternoon of the same day, before we knocked at the gates which were then (as before they were continually accustomed to be) fast shut (the house being moated round about; within which moat was great store of fruit trees and other trees, with thick hedge rows: so that the danger for fear of losing of the said Campion and his associates was the more doubted); we beset the house with our men round about the moat in the best sort we could devise: and then knocked at the gates, and were presently heard and espied; but kept out by the space of half an hour.
In which time, as it seemeth, they had hidden Campion and the other two Priests in a very secret place within the said house; and had made reasonable purveyance for him as hereafter is mentioned: and then they let us into the house.
One Nun got away in country maid's apparel.
Mistress Yate proferred us a good sum of money to have given over the search.
Where came presently to our sight, Mrs Yate, the good wife of the house; five Gentlemen, one Gentlewoman, and three Nuns: the Nuns being then disguised in Gentlewomen's apparel, not like unto that they heard Mass in. All which I well remembered to have seen, the same morning, at the Masses and Sermon aforesaid: yet every one of them a great while denied it. And especially the said Mistress Yate; who could not be content only to make a plain denial of the said Masses and the Priests: but, with great and horrible oaths, forsware the same, betaking herself to the Devil if any such there were; in such sort as, if I had not seen them with mine own eyes, I should have believed her.
Master Yate was then, as he is still, in prison in Reading, for Papistry.
But knowing certainly that these were but bare excuses, and that we should find the said Campion and his compeers if we made narrow search; I eftsoons put Master Fettiplace in remembrance of our Commission: and so he, myself, and the said Jenkins Her Majesty's Messenger, went to searching the house; where we found many secret corners.
Continuing the search, although with no small toil, in the orchards, hedges, and ditches, within the moat and divers other places; at the last [we] found out Master Edward Yate, brother to the good man of the house, and two countrymen called Weblin and Mansfield, fast locked together in a pigeon house: but we could not find, at that time, Campion and the other two Priests whom we specially sought for.
It drew then something towards evening, and doubting lest we were not strong enough; we sent our Commission to one Master Foster, High Sheriff of Berkshire; and to one Master Wiseman, a Justice of Peace within the same County; for some further aid at their hands.
The said Master Wiseman came with very good speed unto us the same evening, with ten or twelve of his own men, very able men and well appointed: but the said Master Foster could not be found, as the messenger that went for him returned us answer.
And so the said house was beset the same night with at the least three score men well weaponed; who watched the same very diligently.
And the next day, being Monday [17th July 1581], in the morning very early, came one Master Christopher Lydcot, a Justice of Peace of the same shire, with a great sort [company] of his own men, all very well appointed: who, together with his men, shewed such earnest loyal and forward service in those affairs as was no small comfort and encouragement to all those which were present, and did bear true hearts and good wills to Her Majesty.
The same morning, began a fresh search for the said Priests; which continued with very great labour until about ten of the clock in the forenoon of the same day: but the said Priests could not be found, and every man [was] almost persuaded that they were not there.
Master Lydcot was then hard by.
Yet still searching, although in effect clean void of any hope for finding of them, the said David Jenkins, by GOD's great goodness, espied a certain secret place, [4] which he quickly found to be hollow; and with a pin of iron which he had in his hand much like unto a harrow tine, he forthwith did break a hole into the said place: where then presently he perceived the said Priests lying all close together upon a bed, of purpose there laid for them; where they had bread, meat, and drink sufficient to have relieved them three or four days together.
The said Jenkins then called very loudly, and said, "I have found the traitors!"; and presently company enough was with him: who there saw the said Priests [that], when there was no remedy for them but nolens volens, courteously yielded themselves.
Shortly after came one Master Reade, another Justice of the Peace of the said shire, to be assistant in these affairs.
First myself rode post to the Court; and, after me, the said Messenger.
Of all which matters, news was immediately carried in great haste to the Lords of the Privy Council: who gave further Commission that the said Priests and certain others their associates should be brought to the Court under the conduction of myself and the said Jenkins; with commandment to the Sheriff to deliver us sufficient aid forth of his shire, for the safe bringing up of the said people.
After that the rumour and noise for the finding out of the said Campion, Satwell, and Peters alias Collington, was in the said house something assuaged; and that the sight of them was to the people there no great novelty: then was the said High Sheriff sent for once again; who all that while had not been seen in this service. But then came, and received into his charge the said Priests and certain others from that day until Thursday following.
Anthony Munday saith, The Sheriff and his men gave him instructions for the setting out of the said untrue book.
The fourth Priest which was by us brought up to the Tower, whose name is William Filbie, was not taken with the said Campion and the rest in the said house: but was apprehended and taken in our watch [on the 17th], by chance, in coming to the said house to speak with the said Peters [or Colleton], as he said; and thereupon [was] delivered likewise in charge to the Sheriff, with the rest.
Upon Thursday, the 20th day of July last [1581], we set forwards from the said Master Yate his house towards the Court, with our said charge; being assisted by the said Master Lydcot and Master Wiseman, and a great sort [company] of their men; who never left us until we came to the Tower of London. There were besides, that guarded us thither, 50 or 60 Horsemen; very able men and well appointed: which we received by the said Sheriff his appointment.
We went that day to Henley upon Thames, where we lodged that night.
And about midnight we were put into great fear by reason of a very great cry and noise that the said Filbie made in his sleep; which wakened the most that were that night in the house, and that in such sort that every man almost thought that some of the prisoners had been broken from us and escaped; although there was in and about the same house a very strong watch appointed and charged for the same. The aforesaid Master Lydcot was the first that came unto them: and when the matter was examined, it was found no more but that the said Filbie was in a dream; and, as he said, he verily thought one to be a ripping down his body and taking out his bowels.
The next day, being Friday [21st July 1581], we set forward from Henley. And by the way received commandment by a Pursuivant from the Lords of the Privy Council, that we should stay that night at Colebrook; and the next day after, being Saturday, to bring them through the city of London unto the Tower, and there to deliver them into the charge of Sir Owen Hopton Knight, Her Majesty's Lieutenant of the same; which accordingly we did.
And this is, in effect, the true discourse [of] that was used in the apprehension of the said Campion and his associates.
Some men may marvel that I would be silent so long for the setting out of the manner of their takings; considering I find myself aggrieved with the same untrue report set out before by the said A. M[unday]. In good faith I meant nothing less than to take any such matter in hand, if so great an untruth had not been published against us that were doers in those affairs; and besides hitherto divers other weightier business has partly hindered me therein.
But now at the last, although very late, I have rudely set down the verity in this matter: thinking it better to tell a true tale by leisure, than a lie in haste; as the said A. M., by his former book, hath done to his own discredit, the deluding of Her Majesty's liege people, and the slander of some which have intermeddled in the said cause.
The names of those that were taken and brought up to
the Tower of London, as aforesaid.
| 1. Edward Campion, | Jesuit and Priest. | |
| 2. Thomas Satwell [aliasFoord], | Priests. | |
| 3. John Peters aliasCollington [or more properly Colleton,] | ||
| 4. William Filbie, | ||
| 5. Edward Yate, | Gentlemen. | |
| 6. Edward Keynes, | ||
| 7. Humphrey Keynes, | ||
| 8. John Cotton, | ||
| 9. William Ilsley [orHildesley], | ||
| 10. John Jacob [or James], | ||
| 11. John Mansfield, | Husbandmen and Neighbours thereby. | |
| 12. William Weblin [orWebley], |
SInce the committing of the persons before-named to the Tower as aforesaid, there hath been, for my service done in those and such like affairs, no small nor few brags, threatenings, curses, and evil wishes given out against me by such as, if they were known, deserve both little liberty and small favour.
Campion, when he first saw me after his apprehension, said unto me, That my service done in the taking of him would be unfortunate to me. And in our journey towards the Tower, he advised me to get out of England for the safety of my body.
Some of my friends have doubted [feared] lest that sort of lewd people would do their good wills to hurt me by some secret device, as conjuration, witchcraft, or such like; the which I rather think to be true, for that, shortly after the foresaid business ended, it pleased GOD to visit me with some sickness after I was gone to bed at night; which indeed for two or three hours handled me something hardly. But, GOD I take to witness, I never was of that opinion that it came to me by any other means but only by riding post two or three journies about the business aforesaid.
Yet, within one day or two after my sickness, there came to a neighbour's house [to] where I lodged in Southwark, one Mistress Beysaunt, a widow, whose abode is most about St. Mary Overies, and at the last by report smelleth of Papistry, and asked the good wife of the house for me, and what she had lately heard of me.
She answered, She knew me not; nor nothing she had heard of me.
Then said Mistress Beysaunt, "The very truth is, it is he that took Campion and the rest of the company that are in the Tower; and was the cause that Master Roper and divers other good men are troubled: It seemeth she was privy to some secret practice against me. and the last day," saith she, "he did fall mad in the street, and was carried so into his lodging; and is not like[ly] to escape with life. I pray you inquire further of him, and let me have knowledge thereof."
So that hereby I may plainly see that the Papists take great care for me: but whether it be for my weal or woe, and what her meaning was, let the world judge. But let the Devil, the Pope, and them do what they can; my faith standeth so sure on Christ Jesus my Saviour, that through him I defy them all.
There hath been great murmuring and grudging against me about the committing of the aforesaid Master Thomas Roper; and many faults have been found for the same.
What I did therein I mean not here to recite: but my dealings in those causes are known to such as before whom I think the fault finders dare not shew their faces. But whatsoever I did against him, I would have done against mine own father; the case standing as it did. Yet such find-faults, to make the matter seem more odious to the World against me, do not stick to report and say, That the said Master Roper hath brought me up from my childhood to this day at his only charges. Which is so false as GOD is true. For although I was his servant; I continued with him, in all, not past one year.
But to conclude. A great number of such like untruths have been published against me, and no few bold brags; as report goeth. I could name some if I would: but I let them pass; unless I be commanded to the contrary by such as have authority to deal with me therein. GOD grant them amendment, I mean not towards myself; or else make their doings known in such sort as they may have their deservings; or at least be put to the mercy of Her Majesty: to whose Highness, Jesus send long life, a prosperous reign, with all joy and felicity!
George Elliot.
Imprinted at London at the Three Cranes in the Vintry,
by Thomas Dawson.
1581.
On 12 March 1582, there was entered for publication at Stationers' Hall [Arber, Transcript &c., II. 408.] A brief Answer made unto two seditious Pamphlets. By A. M. [Anthony Munday.] The Preface to the Reader is however dated "From Barbican, the 22 of March 1582."
We give here the beginning of this Answer; the side notes being, of course, the comments of Anthony Munday.
NOt long after I had published [on 22 January 1582] my book called The Discovery of Campion; there came unto my hands a seditious pamphlet in the French tongue, intituled The History of the Death which the Reverend Father, Master Edmund Campion Priest, of the Society of the name of Jesus, and others have suffered Not for their religion; but for High Treason. [A.M.] in England for the Catholic, or Romish, religion or faith, the 1st December 1581; adding underneath Translated out of English into French.
When I had thoroughly perused this book, noting the traitorous effects and slanderous speeches therein contained, receiving the judgment likewise of divers learned and godly men: as well to correct the manifest untruths wherewith this pamphlet is notably stuffed, as also that the godly and virtuous may discern their apparent impudency and wicked nature; I resolved myself to shape a brief Answer to such a shameless libel; myself being therein untruly and maliciously abused.
The manner of the aforesaid traitorous book. [A.M.]
First, our nameless historiographer, because he would aim his course after some odd manner of conveyance, taketh occasion to begin his book with the taking of Campion, his bringing to the Tower, what happened in his time of stay there, and lastly his martyrdom (as he termeth it) with two other holy and devout Priests; and, in this manner continuing his unadvised labour, he beginneth as hereafter followeth:
George Elliot (sometime servant to Master Thomas Roper; and since belonging to a Gentlewoman, the widow of Sir William Petre: in whose service he made show to be a sound and good Catholic) not long since committed a murder, To build upon hearsay proveth but a slender foundation. [A.M.] as men say: for which offence, fearing the danger that was like[ly] to ensue, he went and submitted himself to one of the chief Lords in the Court; and, the better to win his favour, on his own behalf promised to deliver into his hands the Father Edmund Campion.
This promise, saith he, was received; and unto the said George and an Officer, was delivered Commission to take and apprehend the said Edmund Campion.
Then went they on their way, and coming into Berkshire to [the] house of one Master Yate; George Elliot met with the Cook of the house with whom he was very well acquainted, because they had before both served one Master.
His Master was then in the gaol at Reading. Judge then how Campion could be within "with his Master." [A.M.]
The Cook, thinking no ill, began to tell him many things; and that Father Campion was in the house with his Master.
Upon which report, George sent his fellow to the Justice, who was a very great Calvinist. And he in mean while was brought into the house by the said Cook: where, like another Judas, traitor and disloyal, he first attended the sacrifice of the Mass which was celebrated that day by the Father Edmund, as also a Sermon which he made. In which time behold a good man came running, willing them to take heed of a present treason.
Scantly was all carried away that had served for the Mass and the Sermon; but the Justice was there arrived with [a] very great force, besetting the house round about, that none should escape away.
After very diligent search through all the chambers and other more secret places; they were determined to return, as not finding anything, until they were advertised (either by George, who had understood it of the Cook; or by some other) of a certain corner, more dark and subtle; where they found the Father Edmund and two other Priests hidden: who, the same day, with Gentlemen and other persons, were sent up to London; a spectacle of great joy unto their adversaries.
By that which followeth, written by George Elliot himself; consider the truth of this report. [A.M.]
This much of our French historian's words, I thought good in this place to set down: because the disproof thereto annexed may discover what truth all they of this sect frequent in any of their actions.
This aforenamed George Elliot came home unto my lodging [? in Barbican, see page [221]; and in February 1582]; where I shewed him the slanders that were used of him in the French book.
Whereupon, taking good advice, and noting the circumstances that so highly touched him; upon his conscience, he delivereth this unreprovable Answer.
George Elliot his Answer, to clear himself of the
former untrue Objections.
ABout three years since [? 1578] it was my fortune to serve Master Thomas Roper of [Orpington in] Kent. With whom I had not stayed past eleven weeks, but Payne the Priest (of whom mention is made [see page [205]] in the Discovery of Campion set forth by the Author of this book [i.e. Anthony Munday]) inticed me [in November 1578] from thence to serve my Lady Petre, to whom the said Payne served craftily as Steward of her house.
Who frequenteth their company shall find all their dealings disloyal and traitorous. [A.M.]
With her I continued almost two years [? Nov. 1578- Nov. 1580]. In which time, being myself bent somewhat to that religion, frequenting the company of a number of Papists, I perceived their dealings to be, as they are indeed, full of wicked treasons and unnatural dispositions, too bad to be named. The conceit whereof (examining first my duty to GOD, next my love to my Princess [Sovereign], and last the care of my country,) by the grace and permission of GOD, offered me so great disliking of their dealings that, so warily and conveniently as I might, I weaned my affection from their abominable infection: nevertheless using their companies still, for that it gave me the better occasion to see into the depth of their horrible inventions.
From my Lady Petre, in November was twelvemonth [1580], by entreaty I came to Master Roper's again. With whom I continued till Whitsuntide last [14th May 1581], when my conscience hardly digesting such a weighty burden as with their devices and practices it was very sore ladened; I was constrained to give over that slavish kind of life, and humbly committed my reconciliation to the Right Honourable and my good Lord, the Earl of Leicester: to whom I made known the grievous estate of my life which, for the space of four years, I had endured amongst them.
Now whereas it hath pleased my adversary to set down that I
committed a murder, and to avoid the danger of law offered to the aforesaid my good Lord to deliver unto him Edmund Campion, thereby to obtain my pardon.
It is very unlike[ly] that he, which never saw Campion in all his life, nor knew where he was, could make any promise to bring him forth. [A.M.]
How untrue this is, his Honour very well knoweth; and so do a number more besides. For, in truth, I neither, as then, knew Campion, had never seen him in all my life, nor knew where or in what place he was, it is very unlike[ly] then I should make him any such promise. But that he may learn another time to order his matters with more truth and discretion; I will set down both how I went, with what Commission, and to what intent: and then let him have judgment according to the credit of his Work:
When I had revealed the traitorous speeches of Payne the Priest (how, and after what manner, you may read in the book [by Anthony Munday] before expressed [see page [205]]) I was demanded, If I knew where he was at that time?
I could not make any certain answer.
Whereupon I was demanded again, If I would do my endeavour to search him out?
Whereto, according to my bounden duty, I agreed right willingly.
Then was I appointed, in company with David Jenkins, one of the Messengers of Her Majesty's Chamber; I saw the Warrant myself; and neither was Campion, Payne, or any one named therein: but all Priests, Jesuits, and such seditious persons. [A.M.] and to us was delivered a Warrant to take and apprehend, not any one man, but all Priests, Jesuits, and such like seditions persons, as in our journey we should meet withal. Neither was Campion, Payne, or any one man named in the Warrant: for that as the one was judged hard to be found; so it was uncertain where to find him [that] I knew well enough.
Wherefore remembering, when I served Master Roper, that there was one Thomas Cooper a Cook, who served him likewise, and also knew the aforesaid Payne; to him I thought good to go, because I had understanding that he dwelt at Lyford in Berkshire with one Master Yate who was a very earnest Papist and gave great entertainment to all of that sect: thinking as it might so fall out that we either might find the said Payne there, or else understand where he was. And considering the generality [comprehensiveness] of our Warrant, some other Priests might chance to be there; in respect that he was such a host for all of that disposition.
When we came to Lyford, and had talked with this aforesaid Thomas Cooper; we were framing ourselves to depart thence, not having been within the house at all. But he desiring us to stay dinner, we alighted and went in with him; he not telling me that
Campion was there with his Master
for he [Master Yate] was then in the gaol at Reading; or any other Priest: though it hath pleased our nameless Author to write so.
A holy kind of Church, whereof the Devil is Vicar. [A.M.]
When we were within the house, this Cooper brought us into the buttery: where he, whispering me in the ear, demanded, If my fellow were within the Church or no? as much to say as, Whether he was a Papist or no?
I answered, "He was not; yet nevertheless," quoth I, "he is a very honest man, and one that wisheth well that way."
Then said the Cook, "Will you go up?"
Hereby I understood that he would bring me to a Mass. Whereto I consenting, leaving David Jenkins in the buttery, he brought me up: where, after one Satwell alias Foord had said Mass, Campion prepared himself to say Mass. And there was the first time that ever I saw Campion in all my life: not having heard by any that he was there in the house, before I was brought up into the chamber.
As concerning how he was taken, how he was brought up to London, and how all things passed in that service; I have already set down in my book imprinted: which conferring with his false report, you shall find it as much to differ as truth doth from falsehood.
This have I thought good here to set down, in the reproof of him who hath published such a manifest untruth: and as concerning what I have reported to be spoken by Payne, I am ready at all times to justify it with my death, that they are his words according as he spake them.
By me George Elliot.
Footnotes
[4] In Munday's Brief Discourse, &c. [24 July 1581] there is a description of this "secret place"; which may be correct as to its situation in the Manor House at Lyford:
A chamber, near the top of the house; which was but very simple: having in it a large great shelf with divers tools and instruments both upon it, and hanging by it; which they judged to belong to some crossbow maker. The simpleness of the place caused them to use small suspicion in it: and [they] were departing out again; but one in the company, by good hap, espied a chink in the wall of boards whereto this shelf was fastened, and through the same he perceived some light. Drawing his dagger, he smit a great hole in it; and saw there was a room behind it: whereat the rest stayed, searching for some entrance into it; which by pulling down a shelf they found, being a little hole for one to creep in at.
The Copy of a Letter lately written
in metre by a young Gentlewoman
to her inconstant Lover.
WITH
An Admonition to all young Gentlewomen
and to all other Maids in general,
to beware of Men's flattery.
BY
Is. W.
Newly joined to
A Love Letter sent by a Bachelor,
a most faithful Lover, to an inconstant
and faithless Maiden.
Imprinted at London
by Richard Jones; dwelling in the
upper end of Fleet lane,
at the sign of the
Spread Eagle.
The Printer to the Reader.
WHat lack you, Master mine? some trifle that is true? Why then, this same will serve your turn; the which is also new.
Or if you mind to read some Fables that be feigned: Buy this same book! and ye shall find such in the same contained.
Perchance, my words be thought uncredible to you; Because I say this Treatise is both false and also true.
The matter of itself is true, as many know: And in the same, some feignèd tales the Author doth bestow.
Therefore buy this same book of him that here doth dwell; And you, I know, will say you have bestowed your money well.
Farewell.
Is. W.
To her unconstant Lover.
AS close as you your wedding kept, yet now the truth I hear: Which you, ere now, might me have told. What need you "Nay!" to swear?
You know I always wished you well; so will I during life! But sith you shall a Husband be; GOD send you a good Wife!
And this, whereso you shall become, full boldly may you boast: That once you had as true a Love as dwelt in any coast.
Whose constantness had never quailed, if you had not begun: And yet it is not so far past, but might again be won.
If you so would, yea and not change so long as life should last: But if that needs you marry must; then Farewell! Hope is past!
And if you cannot be content to lead a single life, Although the same right quiet be: then take me to your Wife!
So shall the promises be kept that you so firmly made: Now choose, Whether ye will be true, or be of Sinon's trade?
Whose trade if that you long shall use, it shall your kindred stain! Example take by many a one, whose falsehood now is plain.
As by Eneas, first of all, who did poor Dido leave; Causing the Queen by his untruth, with sword her heart to cleave.
Also I find that THESEUS did his faithful Love forsake; Stealing away within the night, before she did awake.
Jason, that came of noble race two Ladies did beguile: I muse how he durst show his face to them that knew his wile.
For when he, by Medea's art, had got the Fleece of Gold; And also had of her, that time, all kinds of things he would:
He took his ship, and fled away; regarding not the vows That he did make so faithfully unto his loving Spouse.
How durst he trust the surging seas, knowing himself forsworn? Why did he 'scape safe to land before the ship was torn?
I think King Æolus stayed the winds, and Neptune ruled the sea; Then might he boldly pass the waves: no perils could him slay.
But if his falsehood had to them been manifest before; They would have rent the ship as soon as he had gone from shore.
Now may you hear how falseness is made manifest in time; Although they that commit the same think it a venial crime.
For they, for their unfaithfulness, did get perpetual fame. Fame! Wherefore did I term it so? I should have called it shame.
Let Theseus be! let Jason pass! let Paris also 'scape, That brought destruction unto Troy, all through the Grecian rape.
And unto me a Troilus be! If not, you may compare With any of these persons that above expressèd are.
But if I cannot please your mind, for wants that rest in me: Wed whom you list! I am content your refuse for to be.
It shall suffice me, simple soul, of thee to be forsaken: And it may chance, although not yet, you wish, you had me taken.
But rather than you should have cause to wish this, through your Wife: I wish to her, ere you her have, no more but loss of life.
For she that shall so happy be, of thee to be elect; I wish her virtues to be such, she need not be suspect!
I rather wish her Helen's face, than one of Helen's trade! With chasteness of Penelope, the which did never fade.
A Lucrece for her constancy, and Thisbe for her truth! If such thou have, then Peto be: not Paris, that were ruth!
Perchance, ye will think this thing rare in one woman to find. Save Helen's beauty, all the rest the gods have me assigned.
These words I do not speak, thinking from thy new Love to turn thee! Thou knowest by proof what I deserve! I need not to inform thee.
But let that pass! Would God I had Cassandra's gift me lent! Then either thy ill chance, or mine, my foresight might prevent.
But all in vain for this I seek. Wishes may not attain it! Therefore may hap to me what shall; and I cannot refrain it.
Wherefore I pray, GOD be my guide, and also thee defend! No worser than I wish myself, until thy life shall end!
Which life, I pray GOD, may again King Nestor's life renew! And after that, your soul may rest amongst the heavenly crew!
Thereto I wish King Xerxes's wealth, or else King Crœsus's gold! With as much rest and quietness as man may have on mold!
And when you shall this letter have let it be kept in store! For she that sent the same, hath sworn as yet to send no more.
And now, "Farewell!" For why? At large my mind is here exprest: The which you may perceive, if that you do peruse the rest.
FINIS.
The Admonition by the Author to all young
Gentlewomen, and to all other Maids,
being in love.
YE Virgins, that from Cupid's tents do bear away the foil! Whose hearts as yet with raging love most painfully do boil:
To you, I speak! For you be they that good advice do lack; O if I could good counsel give, my tongue should not be slack!
But such as I can give, I will here in a few words express: Which if you do observe, it will some of your care redress.
Beware of fair and painted talk! Beware of flattering tongues! The Mermaids do pretend no good, for all their pleasant Songs!
Some use the tears of crocodiles, contrary to their heart: And if they cannot always weep, they wet their cheeks by Art.
Ovid, within his Art of Love, doth teach them this same knack: To wet their hand, and touch their eyes; as oft as tears they lack.
Why have ye such deceit in store? have you such crafty wile? Less craft than this, God knows, would soon us simple souls beguile!
But will ye not leave off; but still delude us in this wise? Sith it is so, we trust we shall take heed to feignèd lies.
Trust not a man at the first sight! but try him well before: I wish all Maids, within their breasts, to keep this thing in store.
For trial shall declare this truth, and show what he doth think: Whether he be a Lover true, or do intend to shrink.
If Scylla had not trust too much before that she did try; She could not have been clean forsake, When she for help did cry.
Or if she had had good advice, Nisus had livèd long! How durst she trust a stranger, and do her dear father wrong!
King Nisus had a hair by fate; which hair while he did keep, He never should be overcome, neither on land nor deep.
The stranger, that the daughter loved, did war against the King; And always sought how that he might them in subjection bring.
This Scylla stole away the hair, for to obtain her will: And gave it to the stranger, that did straight her father kill.
Then she, who thought herself most sure to have her whole desire, Was clean reject, and left behind; When he did home retire.
Or if such falsehood had been once unto Œnone known; About the fields of Ida wood, Paris had walked alone!
Or if Demophoon's deceit, to Phillis had been told; She had not been transformèd so, as Poets tell of old.
Hero did try Leander's truth before that she did trust; Therefore she found him unto her both constant true and just.
For he always did swim the sea, when stars in sky did glide; Till he was drownèd by the way, near hand unto the side.
She scrat[ched] her face, she tare her hair, it grieveth me to tell, When she did know the end of him that she did love so well.
But like Leander there be few; therefore, in time, take heed! And always try before ye trust! so shall you better speed.
The little fish that careless is within the water clear. How glad is he, when he doth see a bait for to appear!
He thinks his hap right good to be, that he the same could spy; And so the simple fool doth trust too much before he try.
O little fish, what hap hadst thou, to have such spiteful fate! To come into one's cruel hands, out of so happy state.
Thou didst suspect no harm, when thou upon the bait didst look: O that thou hadst had Lynceus's eyes, for to have seen the hook!
Then hadst thou, with thy pretty mates, been playing in the streams; Where as Sir Phœbus daily doth shew forth his golden beams.
But sith thy fortune is so ill to end thy life on shore; Of this, thy most unhappy end, I mind to speak no more.
But of thy fellow's chance that late such pretty shift did make That he, from fisher's hook did sprint before he could him take.
And now he pries on every bait, suspecting still that prick For to lie hid in everything, wherewith the fishers strike.
And since the fish, that reason lacks, once warnèd, doth beware: Why should not we take heed to that that turneth us to care.
And I, who was deceivèd late by one's unfaithful tears, Trust now for to beware, if that I live this hundred years.
Is. W.
FINIS.
A Love Letter,
or an earnest persuasion of a Lover,
sent, of late, to a young Maiden;
to whom he was betrothed:
Who, afterward, being overcome with
flattery, she seemed utterly to swerve
from her former promise, without
occasion; and so to
forsake him.
By W. G.
W. G.
A Love Letter sent from a faithful Lover,
to an unconstant Maiden.
AS duty wills, so Nature moves thy friend these lines to write Wherein thy fraud, O faithless Thou! I mind to bring to light.
Can plightèd faith, so firmly plight, without desert be moved? Or should the man that faithful is, so slenderly be loved?
Should hate his guerdon thus remain in place of thy goodwill? Should rigour reign within thy breast, to vanquish reason's skill?
Should faith, to falsehood so be changed? alas, the greater ruth, When double dealing is preferred before the perfect truth!
If case such hap as recompense unto your friend you yield, What bulwark canst thou claim 'gainst GOD thyself to shield?
Can they that sit in hau[gh]ty heavens, such covert guilt abide? Or are they partial now, deemst thou? is Justice thrown aside?
Nay, just are they, and justice still, as just, they justly use: And unto them, as guiltless then, canst thou thyself excuse?
No, no; not so, for they behold thy double deeds, be sure! No forgèd style, nor flatt'ring phrase, their favour may allure.
No gifts, no gold, can them corrupt; such justice there doth reign: And they that disobey their 'hests, are subject unto pain.
These are no novel news I tell, the proof is plainly known: To such as do offend their wills, their power forth is shown.
They see thy conscience guilty is; thy faithless fraud they see: And think'st thou then, this guilt of thine can unrewarded be?
O Faith, think not so far to wish from reason's limits pure! But judge thyself, what justice they to sinful ones inure.
And thyself such doom shall give, as guilty shalt thou find: Therefore relent, and once again thy grudging conscience mind!
Which unto gods that sacrèd are, as guilty thee bewray. In place of fraud, let faith and truth with thee now bear the sway!
Revoke and call to memory the fruits of friendship shown! Perpend in mind my torments strong, my plaints and pensive moan!
Which, six long years, as passionate to carping yoke of care, I 'bode for thee, as thou thyself, I know, canst well declare.
Remember thou the plaints and tears which I poured forth for thee! And ponder well the sacred vow that thou hast made to me!
Which vow gave comfort to thy friend, that subject served to grief: Thou gavest thyself a pledge to me! Thy faith was my relief!
But now what hellish hag, alas, hath turned thy love to hate? Or else what whelp of Hydra's kind in thee hath wrought debate?
Alas, wilt thou despoil me quite of my possessèd joy? Or wilt thou plunge me headlong thus to gulfs of great annoy?
Who would a [have] thought alas, such fraud to rest in thee? Who would have deemed, without desert thy heart should change from me?
Whose heart hath couched his tent within my covert breast And thine, I hoped, of me thy friend likewise had been possesst.
But wavering minds, I plainly see, so compassèd with guile, Pretend by sleights, the perfect joys of friends for to exile.
O should a prattling parasite so egg thee with disdain; That thou, the presence of thy friend, through flattery, shouldst refrain?
Not vouching once to speak with him, whose heart thou hadst in hold: Sith Liking fame hath granted grace; should Love so soon be cold!
Consider these my letters well, and answer them again! For I, thy friend in covert zeal, this time hath closed my pen.
Farewell! Adieu! Ten thousand times to GOD I thee commend! Beseeching him his heavenly grace unto thee still to send!
Thy friend in wealth, thy friend in woe: Thy friend while life shall flit me fro. And whilst that you enjoy your breath, Leave not your friend unto the death! For greater praise cannot be won Than to observe True Love begun.
W. G.
FINIS.
Imprinted at London by Richard Jones.
The destruction, capture, &c. of Portuguese
Carracks, by English seamen.
1592-1594 A.D.
R. Hakluyt. Voyages, III.,
194, Ed. 1600.
In the Third Volume of this Series will be found the fullest and most exact description in our language of the annual Fleets, usually consisting of five Carracks, that went from Lisbon to Goa and back; written by Jan Huyghen van Linschoten, a Dutchman, who made that Voyage in the years 1582-1592. The following events occurred after Linschoten reached Lisbon, on 2nd January 1592 [III. 470].
Some additional particulars from a very rare tract, The Seaman's Triumph, London, 1592, 4to, are given in the footnotes.
A true Report of the honourable Service at sea performed by Sir John Burrough Knight, Lieutenant General of the Fleet prepared by the Honourable Sir Walter Ralegh Knight, Lord Warden of the Stanneries of Cornwall and Devon. Wherein, chiefly, the Santa Clara of Biscay, a ship of 600 tons, was taken: and the two East Indian Carracks, the Santa Cruz and the Madre de Dios, were forced; the one burnt, the other taken and brought into Dartmouth the 7th of September 1592.
Sir Walter Ralegh, upon Commission received from Her Majesty for an Expedition to be made to the West Indies, slacked not his uttermost diligence to make full provision of all things necessary: as, both in his choice of good ships, and [of] sufficient men to perform the action, evidently appeared. For [of] his ships, which were in number fourteen or fifteen, those two of Her Majesty's, the Garland and the Foresight, were the chiefest. The rest [were] either his own, or his good friends', or [belonged to] Adventurers of London. For the Gentlemen his consorts and Officers, to give them their right, they were so well qualited in courage, experience, and discretion as the greatest Prince might repute himself happy to be served with their like.
The honour of Lieutenant General was imposed upon Sir John Burrough, a Gentleman, for his manifold good and heroical parts, thought every way worthy of that commandment. With whom, after Sir Walter Ralegh returned, was joined in Commission, Sir Martin Frobisher: who, for his special skill and knowledge in marine causes, had formerly carried employments of like, or greater, place. The rest of the Captains, soldiers, and sailors were men of notable resolution; and, for the most part, such as heretofore had given to the World sufficient proof of their valour in divers Services of the like nature.
With these ships, thus manned, Sir Walter Ralegh departed towards the West country, there to store himself with such further necessaries as the state of his Voyage [Expedition] did needfully require. Where the westerly winds, blowing for a long time contrary to his course, bound and constrained him to keep harbour so many weeks that the fittest season for his purpose was gone; the minds of his people, much altered; his victuals, consumed: and withal Her Majesty, understanding how crossly all this sorted, began to call the procedings of this preparation into question.
Insomuch that, whereas the 6th of May [1592] was first come before Sir Walter could put to sea; the very next day, Sir Martin Frobisher, in a Pinnance of my [Lord Howard of Effingham, the] Lord Admiral's, called the Disdain, met him: and brought to him, from Her Majesty, Letters of Revocation, with commandment to relinquish for his own part, the intended attempt; and to leave the charge and conduct of all things in the hands of Sir John Burrough and Sir Martin Frobisher.
But Sir Walter (finding his honour so far engaged in the undertaking of this Voyage [Expedition] as, without proceeding, he saw no remedy either to salve his reputation; or to content those his friends, which had put in adventures of great sums with him: and making construction of the Queen's Letters, in such sort, as if her commandment had been propounded in indifferent terms, either to advance forward, or to retire, at his own discretion) would in no case yield to leave his Fleet now under sail.
Wherefore continuing his course into the sea, he met, within a day or two, with certain Sails lately come from Spain. Among which was a ship appertaining to Monsieur Gourdon, Governor of Calais: and [he] found aboard her, one Master Nevel Davies, an Englishman, who (having endured a long and miserable captivity for the space of twelve years [1580-1592]; partly in the Inquisition in Spain) was now, by good fortune, escaped; and upon [his] return to his [own] country.
This man, among other things, reported for certain, That there was little hope of any good this year to be done in the West India: considering that the King of Spain had sent express order to all the ports, both of the Islands and of Terra firma, that no ship should stir that year, nor any treasure be laid aboard for Spain.
But neither this unpleasant relation, nor aught else, could stay his proceedings, until a tempest of strange and uncouth violence, arising upon Thursday the 11th of May, when he was athwart Cape Finisterre, had so scattered the greater part of the Fleet, and sunk his boats and Pinnaces: that as the rest were driven and severed, some this way, and some that; Sir Walter himself, being in the Garland of Her Majesty's [Ships], was in danger to be swallowed up of the sea.
Whereupon Sir Walter Ralegh finding that the season of the year was too far gone to proceed with the enterprise which he had upon Panama, having been held on the English coast from February till May [1592], and thereby spent three months' victuals; and considering withal that to lie upon the Spanish coast, or at the Islands [of the Azores], to attend the return of the East [Indian], or West Indian Fleets, was rather a work of patience than aught else: he gave directions to Sir John Burrough and Sir Martin Frobisher to divide the Fleet in two parts. Sir Martin with the Garland, Captain George Giffard, Captain Henry Thin, Captain Grenville, and others, to lie off the South Cape [Cape St. Vincent]; thereby to amaze the Spanish Fleet, and to hold them on their own coast, while Sir John Burrough [in the Roebuck], Captain [Sir] Robert Crosse [in the Foresight,] Captain Thomson [in the Dainty], and others, should attend the Islands for the Carracks [from Goa] or any other Spanish ships coming from Mexico or other parts of the West Indies.
Which direction took effect [was effectual] accordingly. For the King of Spain's Admiral, receiving intelligence that the English Fleet was come on the coast, attended to defend the south parts of Spain, and to keep himself as near Sir Martin Frobisher as he could, to impeach [hinder] him in all things which he might undertake: and thereby neglected the safe conduct of the Carracks; with whom it fared as hereafter shall appear.
The Santa Clara, a Biscayen ship of 600 tons, taken.
Before the Fleet severed themselves, they met with a great Biscayen on the Spanish coast, called [the] Santa Clara, a ship of 600 tons. The noise of the artillery on both sides being heard; immediately they drew to their Fleet. Where, after a reasonably hot fight, the ship was entered and mastered: which they found fraighted with all sorts of small ironwork, as horse-shoes, nails, plough-shares, iron bars, spikes, bolts, locks, gimbols, and such like, valued by us at £6,000 or £7,000 [=£24,000 to £30,000 now] but worth to them treble the value. This Biscayen was sailing towards San Lucar [de Barrameda, the Port of Seville], there to take in some further provision for the West India.
This ship being first rummaged, and after sent for England: our Fleet coasted along towards the South Cape of St. Vincent.
And, by the way, about the Rock [Cape da Roca] near Lisbon, Sir John Burrough in the Roebuck spying a Sail afar off, gave her present chase: which, being a Fly-boat and of good sail [a good sailer], drew him far southwards before he could fetch her; but at last she came under his lee, and struck sail.
The Master of which Fly-boat coming aboard him, confessed, that the King [Philip II.] indeed had prepared a great Fleet in San Lucar [de Barrameda] and Cadiz; and, as the report in Spain was current, for the West Indies.
But indeed the Spanish King had provided this Fleet upon this counsel:
He received intelligence that Sir Walter Ralegh was to put out strong for the West India. To impeach him, and to ranconter [encounter] his force; he appointed this Fleet: although, looking for the arrival of his East Indian Carracks, he first ordained those ships to waft [convoy] them from the Azores. But persuading himself that if the Fleet of Sir Walter Ralegh did go for the West India, then the Islands should have none to infest them but small Men of War; which the Carracks of themselves would be well able to match: his order was to Don Alonso de Baçan, brother to the Marquis of Santa Cruz, and General of his Armada, to pursue Sir Walter's Fleet, and to confront him; what course soever he held.
And that this was true, our men in short time by proof understood. For Sir John Burrough (not long after the taking of his last prize, the Fly-boat), as he sailed back again towards the rest of his company, discovered the Spanish Fleet to seaward of him: which, having likewise spied him betwixt them and the shore, made full account to bring him safe into [a] Spanish harbour; and therefore spread themselves in such sort before him, that indeed his danger was very great. For both the liberty of the sea was brought into a narrow straight [distance]; and the shore, being enemy Sir John Burrough in great danger of the Spanish Fleet. [hostile] could give him no comfort of relief. So that, trusting to GOD's help only and his good sail [sailing], he thrust out from among them, in spite of all their force; and, to the notable illusion of all their cunning, which they shewed to the uttermost in laying the way for his apprehension.
But now Sir John Burrough, having happily escaped their clutches; finding the coast guarded by this Fleet; and knowing it was but folly to expect a meeting there with Sir Martin Frobisher (who understanding of this Armada, as well as himself, would be sure not to come that way), began to shape his course to the Azores, according to Sir Walter Ralegh's direction: and came in sight of St. The Isle of St. Michael. Michael; running so near by Villa Franca, that he might easily discern the ships lying there at anchor.
Divers small ships taken.
Divers small Caravels both here and between St George's [Island] and the Pike [Pico], in his course towards Flores, he intercepted: of which no great intelligence for his affairs could be understood.
Arriving before Flores, upon Thursday the 21st of June, towards evening, [in the Roebuck], accompanied only by Captain Caufield and the Master of his ship; the rest not being yet arrived: he made towards the shore with his boat: finding all the people of Santa Cruz, a village of Santa Cruz, a village in the Isle of Flores. that island, in arms; fearing their landing, and ready marshalled to defend their town from spoil.
Sir John, contrariwise, made signs of amity unto them by advancing a white flag, a common token of peace: which was answered again of them with the like. Whereupon ensued intercourses of good friendship; and pledges were taken on both sides, the Captain of the town for them and Captain Caulfield for ours. So that whatsoever our men wanted, which that place could supply, either in fresh water, victuals, or the like, was very willingly granted [i.e. for payment] by the inhabitants; and good leave had they to refresh themselves on shore, as much and as oft as they would, without restraint.
At this Santa Cruz, Sir John Burrough was informed that indeed there was among them no expectation of any Fleet to come from the West: but from the East, News of the East Indian Carracks. that no longer since than three days before his arrival [i.e. 18th June 1592] a Carrack was passed by for Lisbon, and that there were four Carracks more behind, of one consort [company or Fleet].
Sir John, being very glad of this news, stayed no longer on shore, but presently embarked himself: having only in company a small Bark, of 60 tons [? the Phœnix, see page 255], belonging to one Master Hopkins of Bristol.
In the meanwhile that these things thus passed at Flores; part of the rest of the English Fleet, which Sir John Burrough had left upon the coast of Spain, drew also towards the Azores. And whereas he quickly, at sea, had discovered one of the Carracks [the Santa Cruz]: the same evening, he might descry two or three of [George Clifford] the Earl of Cumberland's ships [two of them were the Tiger and the Sampson], whereof one Master Norton was Captain [or as we should now say, Commodore]; which having, in like sort, kenned the Carrack, pursued her by that course which they saw her to run towards the Islands.
But on no side was there any way made, by reason of a great calm which yielded no breath to spread a sail. Insomuch that (fitly to discover her what she was; of what burden, force, and countenance) Sir John Burrough took his boat, and rowed the space of three miles, to make her [out] exactly; and, being returned, he consulted with the better sort of the Company then present, upon the boarding [of] her in the morning.
But a very mighty storm arising in the night, the extremity thereof forced them all to weigh anchors; yet their care was such in wrestling with the weather, not to lose the Carrack: [so] that, in the morning (the tempest being qualified, and our men bearing again with the shore), they might perceive the Carrack very near the land; and the Portugals confusedly carrying on shore such things as they could, [in] any manner of way, convey out of her. And seeing the haste our men made to come upon them; [they] forsook her.
But first, that nothing might be left commodious to our men; [they] set fire to that which they could not A Carrack, called the Santa Cruz, set on fire. carry with them: intending by that means, wholly to consume her; that neither glory of victory, nor benefit of ship, might remain to ours.
And lest the approach and industry of the English should bring means to extinguish the flame, thereby to preserve the residue of that which the fire had not destroyed: being 400 of them in number and well armed, they intrenched themselves on land so near the Carrack, that she, being by their forces protected and our men kept aloof off; the fire might continue to the consumption of the whole.
A hundred of our men landed.
This being noted by Sir John Burrough; he soon provided a present remedy for this mischief. For landing 100 of his men (whereof many did swim, and wade more than breast high, to shore) and easily scattering those that presented themselves to guard the coast: he no sooner drew towards their new trenches, but they fled immediately; leaving as much as the fire had spared [of the Santa Cruz] to be the reward of our men's pains.
Here were taken, among others, one Vincent Fonseca, a Portugal, Purser of the Carrack; with two others, one an Almain [German], and the second a Low Dutchman [Hollander] Cannoniers: who, refusing to make any voluntary report of those things which were demanded of them, had the torture threatened; the fear whereof, at the last, wrested from them this intelligence:
That, within fifteen days, three other greater Carracks than that [the Santa Cruz] lately fired, would arrive at the same Island [of Flores]. And that being five Carracks in the Fleet at their departure from Goa, to wit, the Buen Jesus, Admiral [Flag Ship]; the Madre de Dios; the San Bernardo; the San Christophoro; and the Santa Cruz, whose fortune you have already heard: they had received special commandment from the King [Philip II.] not to touch, in any case, at the Island of St. Helena, where the Portugal Carracks, in their return from the East India, were always, till now, wont to arrive, to refresh themselves with water and victuals. And the King's reason was, because of the English Men of War: who, as he was informed, lay there in wait to intercept them. If therefore their necessity of water should drive them to seek [a] supply anywhere, he appointed them Angola, in the main[land] of Africa; with order Angola, a new watering place for the Carracks. there to stay only the taking in of water, to avoid the inconvenience of infections, whereunto that hot latitude is dangerously subject. The last rendezvous for them all was the Island of Flores: where the King assured them not to miss of his Armada, thither sent of purpose for their wafting [convoy] to Lisbon.
Upon this information, Sir John drew to Council [of War], meeting there Captain Norton, Captain Downton, Captain Abraham Cocke, Captains of three ships of [George Clifford,] the Earl of Cumberland; Master Thomson of Harwich, Captain of the Dainty of Sir John Hawkins's, one of Sir Walter Raleigh's Fleet; and Master Christopher Newport, Captain of the Golden Dragon, newly returned from the West Indies; and others.
These being assembled, he communicated with them what he had understood of the foresaid Examinates; and what great presumptions of truth their relation did carry: wishing that forasmuch as GOD and good fortune had brought them together in so good a season, they would shew the uttermost of their endeavours to bring these Easterlings [here meaning, the Carracks from the East: an unusual application of a word ordinarily applied to Baltic ships] under the lee of English obedience.
Hereupon a present accord, on all sides, followed; not to part company, or leave off those seas, till time should present cause to put their consultations in execution.
The next day [? 29th June 1592], Her Majesty's good Ship the Foresight, commanded by Sir Robert Crosse, came in to the rest: and he, likewise informed of the matter, was soon drawn into this Service.
Thus Sir John, with all these ships, departing thence [to some] six or seven leagues to the West of Flores; they spread themselves abroad from the North to the South; each ship two leagues, at the least, distant from another. By which order of extension, they were able to discover the space of two whole degrees [=140 miles] at sea.
In this sort, they lay from the 29th of June to the 3rd of August [1592].
[At] what time, Captain Thomson, in the Dainty, had first sight of the huge Carrack, called the Madre de Dios [the Mother of God]; one of the greatest receipt [burden] belonging to the Crown of Portugal.
The Dainty, being of excellent sail, got the start of the rest of our Fleet: and began the conflict, somewhat to her cost, with the slaughter and hurt of divers of her men.[5]
Within a while after, Sir John Burrough, in the Roebuck of Sir Walter Raleigh's [Fleet], was at hand to second her: who saluted her with shot of great ordnance, and continued the fight, within musket shot, (assisted by Captain Thomson [in the Dainty] and Captain Newport [in the Golden Dragon] till Sir Robert Crosse, Vice Admiral of the Fleet [there present], came up; [having] been to leeward.
At whose arrival, Sir John Burrough demanded of him, What was best to be done?
Who answered, That if the Carrack were not boarded; she would recover the shore, and fire herself, as the other had done.
Whereupon Sir John Burrough concluded to entangle her: and Sir Robert Cross promised also to fasten himself [in the Foresight] to her together at the instant. Which was performed.
But, after a while, Sir John Burrough['s ship, the Roebuck,] receiving a shot, with a cannon perier, under water, and [being] ready to sink; [he] desired Sir Robert Crosse to fall off that he might also clear himself, and save his ship from sinking: which with difficulty he did. For both the Roebuck and the Foresight were so entangled as, with much ado, could they clear themselves.
The same evening, Sir Robert Crosse (finding the Carrack then sure, and drawing near the Island) persuaded his company to board her again; or else there was no hope to recover her: who, after many excuses and fears, were by him encouraged. And so [his ship] fell athwart her foreships all alone; and so hindered her sailing, that the rest had time to come up to his succour, and to recover the Carrack ere she recovered the land.
The Madre de Dios taken.
And so, towards the evening, after he had fought with her alone three hours singly, my Lord of Cumberland's two ships [the Tiger and the Sampson] came up: and, with very little loss, [they] entered with Sir Robert Crosse; who had, in that time, broken their courage, and made the assault easy for the rest.[6]
The General [Sir John Burrough] having disarmed the Portugals; and stowed them, for better security, on all sides [i.e. in the various English ships]; first had presented to his eyes, the true proportion of the vast body of this Carrack; which did then, and may still, justly provoke the admiration [wonderment] of all men not formerly acquainted with such a sight.
But albeit this first appearance of the hugeness thereof yielded sights enough to entertain our men's eyes; yet the pitiful object of so many bodies slain and dismembered could not but draw each man's eye to see, and heart to lament, and hands to help, those miserable people; whose limbs were so torn with the violence of shot, and pain made grievous with the multitude of wounds. No man could almost step but upon a dead carcase, or a bloody floor. But especially about the helm; where very many of them fell suddenly from stirring [steering] to dying. For the greatness of the stirrage [steering] requiring the labour of twelve or fourteen men at once; and some of our ships, beating her in at the stern with their ordnance, oftentimes with one shot slew four or five labouring on either side of the helm: whose rooms being still furnished with fresh supplies, and our artillery still playing upon them with continual vollies; it could not be but that much blood should be shed in that place.
Exceeding humanity showed to the Enemy.
Whereupon our General, moved with singular commiseration of their misery, sent them his own chirurgions, denying them no possible help or relief he, or any of his Company, could afford them.
Among the rest of those, whose state this chance had made very deplorable, was Don Fernando de Mendoza, Grand Captain and Commander of this Carrack: who indeed was descended of the House of Mendoza in Spain; but, being married into Portugal, lived there as one of that nation. A Gentleman well stricken in years, well spoken, of comely personage, of good stature: but of hard fortune.
In his several Services against the Moors, he was twice taken prisoner; and both times ransomed by the King [of Spain].
In a former voyage of return from [or rather, going to] the East India, he was driven [in August 1585] upon the baxos or "sands of India" [now called Bassas da India, and situated midway between Africa and Madagascar], near the coast of Cephala [Sofala]; being then also Captain of a Carrack [the San Jago], which was there lost: and himself, though escaping the sea danger, yet fell into the hands of infidels on land, who kept him under long and grievous servitude. [An account of this shipwreck will be found in Vol. III., pp. 25, 311-316.] Once more the King [Philip II.], carrying a loving respect to the man and desirous to better his condition, was content to let him try his fortune in this Easterly Navigation; and committed unto him the conduct of this Carrack [the Madre de Dios], wherein he went [in 1591] from Lisbon, General of the whole Fleet: and in that degree had returned, if the Viceroy of Goa, embarked for Portugal on the Buen Jesus, had not, by reason of his late Office, being preferred.
Sir John, intending not to add too much affliction to the afflicted, moved with pity and compassion of human misery, in the end, resolved freely to dismiss this Captain and the most part of his followers to their own country; and for the same purpose, bestowed them in certain vessels, furnished with all kinds of necessary provision.[7]
This business thus dispatched, good leisure had he to take such [a] view of the goods as conveniency might afford. And having very prudently, to cut off the unprofitable spoil and pillage whereunto he saw the minds of many inclined, seized upon the whole to Her Majesty's use; after a short and slender rummaging and searching of such things as first came to hand: he perceived that the wealth would arise nothing disanswerable to expectation; but that the variety and grandeur of all rich commodities would be more than sufficient to content both the Adventurers' desire and the soldiers' travail.[8]
And here I cannot but enter into the consideration and acknowledgment of GOD's great favour towards our nation; who, by putting this purchase [booty] into our hands, hath manifestly discovered those secret trades and Indian riches which hitherto lay strangely hidden and cunningly concealed from us: whereof there was, among some few of us, some small and unperfect glimpse only; which now is turned into the broad light of full and perfect knowledge. Whereby it should seem that the will of GOD for our good is, if our weakness could apprehend it, to have us communicate with them in those East Indian treasures: and, by the erection of a lawful Traffic, to better our means to advance true religion and his holy service. [Just at the time Richard Hakluyt printed this, 1600 A.D.; he and others were chartered by Queen Elizabeth, as the English East India Company.]
The Carrack, being in burden, by the estimation of the wise and experienced, [of] no less than 1,600 tons; had fully 900 of those, stowed with the gross bulk of merchandise: the rest of the tonnage being allowed, partly to the ordnance, which were 32 pieces of brass of all sorts; partly to the passengers and the victuals; which could not be any small quantity, considering the number of the persons, betwixt 600 and 700, and the length of the navigation.
A brief Catalogue of the sundry rich commodities of the Madre de Dios.
To give you a taste, as it were, of the commodities, it shall suffice to deliver you a general particularity of them, according to the Catalogue taken at Leaden Hall, the 15th of September 1592. Where, upon good view, it was found that the principal wares, after the jewels (which were no doubt of great value, though they never came to light), consisted of Spices, Drugs, Silks, Calicoes, Quilts, Carpets, and Colours,&c.
The Spices were Pepper, Cloves, Maces, Nutmegs, Cinnamon, Green Ginger.
The Drugs were Benjamin [the gum Benzoin], Frankincense, Galingale [or Galangal], Mirabolams, Aloes, Zocotrina, Camphor.
The Silks [were] Damasks, Taffatas, Sarcenets, Altobassos that is counterfeit Cloth of Gold, unwrought China Silk, Sleaved Silk, White twisted Silk, Curled Cypress [=Cypress lawn, a cobweb lawn or crape].
The Calicoes were Book Calicoes, Calico Lawns, Broad white Calicoes, Fine starched Calicoes, Coarse white Calicoes, Brown broad Calicoes, Brown coarse Calicoes.
There were also Canopies, and coarse Diaper Towels; Quilts of coarse Sarcenet, and of Calico; Carpets like those of Turkey.
Whereunto are to be added the Pearls, Musk, Civet, and Ambergris.
The rest of the wares were many in number; but less in value: as Elephants' teeth; Porcelain vessels of China; Cocoanuts; Hides; Ebony wood, as black as jet; Bedsteads of the same; Cloth of the rinds of trees, very strange for the matter, and artificial in workmanship.
All which piles of commodities being, by men of approved judgment, rated but in reasonable sort, amounted to no less than £150,000 sterling [=£600,000 to £700,000 now]: which being divided among the Adventurers whereof Her Majesty was the chief, was sufficient to yield contentment to all parties.
The [above] cargazon [cargo] being taken out [at Dartmouth], and the goods freighted in ten of our ships, [and] sent for London; to the end that the bigness, height, length, breadth, and other dimensions, of so huge a vessel might, by the exact rules of geometrical observations, be truly taken, both for present knowledge and derivation [transmission] also of the same unto posterity: one Master Robert Adams, a man in his faculty of excellent skill, omitted nothing in the description which either his art could demonstrate; or any man's judgment think worthy the memory.
The capacity and dimensions of the Madre de Dios.
After an exquisite survey of the whole frame, he found: The length, from the beak-head to the stern, whereupon was erected a lantern, to contain 165 feet.
The breadth, in the second Close deck, whereof she had three; this being the place where was most extension of breadth, was 46 feet 10 inches.
She drew in water 31 feet at her departure from Cochin in India: but not above 26 [feet] at her arrival in Dartmouth; being lightened in her voyage, by divers means, some 5 feet.
She carried in height, seven several stories [or decks]: one main Orlop, three Close decks, one Fore-castle, and a Spar deck of two floors apiece.
The length of the keel was 100 feet: of the Mainmast 121 feet; and the circuit about, at the partners, 10 feet, 7 inches.
The main-yard was 106 feet long.
By which perfect commensuration of the parts appeareth the hugeness of the whole: far beyond the mould of the biggest shipping used among us, either for war or receit [burden].
Don Alonso De Baçan (having a great Fleet: and suffering these two Carracks, the Santa Cruz to be burnt; and the Madre de Dios to be taken) was disgraced by his Prince for his negligence.