As the tragical events of this period in the history of the ill-fated queen, now known to be Bacon’s ancestress, have little by little unfolded in the deciphering, there has been a deepening sense of the pathos of the story. Like dissolving views the scenes appear, and fade, and this mightiness meets misery so soon that we feel the shock. There is the gentle Anne’s appearance at the banquet, “when King Henry for the first time cometh truely under the spell of her beautie”—his infatuation—his determination that nothing should stand in the way of making her his wife—the divorce from Katherine—the coronation—the disapproval of the people, not of Anne but of the King—the insulting song at the coronation festivities—the birth of Elizabeth, Bacon’s mother, and the King’s disappointment that the princess was not a prince. Later there is the King’s fickleness, which prompted the false charges against his wife—the mockery of the trial—the true nobleness of the victim—the injustice of her condemnation—the pathetic message to the King, as she was led to the scaffold—the cruelty of her execution.
It is no wonder that Bacon felt this deeply, nor that “every act and scene is a tender sacrifice, and an incense to her sweet memory.”
ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP.
Detroit, November, 1901.
ARGUMENT .OF THE PLAY.
As may bee well knowne unto you, th’ questio’ of Elizabeth, her legitimacie, made her a Protestant, for the Pope had not recognis’d th’ union, tho’ it were royale, which her sire made with fayre Anne Boleyn. Still we may see that despite some restraining feare, it suited her to dallie with the question, to make a faint shew of settling the mater as her owne co’sie’ce dictated, if we take th’ decisions of facts; but the will of th’ remorse-tost king left no doubt in men’s minds concerning th’ former marriage, in fact, as th’ crowne was giv’n first to Mary, his daughter of that marriage, before commi’g to Elizabeth.
In th’ storie of my most infortunate grandmother, the sweet ladie who saw not th’ headsman’s axe when shee went forth proudly to her coronation, you shall read of a sadnesse that touches me neere, partlie because of neerenesse in bloud, partlie from a firme beliefe and trust in her innocencie. Therefore every act and scene of this play of which I speake, is a tende’ sacrifice, and an incense to her sweete memorie. It is a plea to the generations to come for a just judgement upon her life, whilst also giving the world one of the noblest o’ my plays, hidden in Cy’hre in many other works.
A short argument, and likewise th’ keies, are giv’n to ayde th’ decypherer when it is to be work’d out as I wish. This doth tell th’ story with sufficient clearnes to guide you to our hidden storie.
This opeth at th’ palace, when King Henry for the first time cometh truely under the spell of her beautie,—then in th’ highest perfection of dainty grace, fresh, unspoiled,—and the charme of youthlie manners. It is thought this was that inquisition which brought out feares regarding th’ marriage contracted with Katharine of Arragon, so that none greatly wond’red whe’ prolonged consultation of the secret voyce in his soule assur’d the questioner noe good could ever come from the union. Acti’g upon this conviction he doth confer money and titles upon his last choise to quiet objections on score of unmeetnes.
But tho’ an irksome thing, truth shall be told. Tho’ it be ofttimes a task,—if selfe-imposed, not by any meanes th’ lesse, but more wearisome, since the work hath noe voyce of approvall or praise,—I intend its completion. For many simple causes th’ historie of a man’s life cometh from acts that we see through stayned glasse darkelie, and of th’ other sexe, a man doth perceyve lesse, if possible, but th’ picture that I shall heere give is limn’d most carefully. However m’ pen hath greatly digress’d, and to returne.