“First, He points out several facts to show that the book must have been written at the end of 1584, certainly between 1583 and ’85, when in ’85 Leicester went general into Holland, of which there is no mention in the book, as Drake observes.
“Secondly, The design. I see nothing in the book relating to the invasion, the design being to support the title of the Queen of Scots and her son. Dr. James was the first who in print affirmed Parsons to be the only author—which was then in many mouths, that he wrote it from materials sent him by Burleigh. But as it is not very likely that Parsons, who lived at Rome, should be acquainted with all the transactions set down in that book, so ’tis less probable that Burleigh should pitch upon him for such a work; and I take the report to be grounded only on a passage in the book that mentions the papers Burleigh had against Leicester.”
Dr. Mosse then gives what Wood has written, and Wood’s inference, that neither Pitts nor Ribadeneira giving it in the list of his writings is a sufficient argument; and the doctor concludes—
“In short, the author is very uncertain; and, for anything that appears in it, it may as well be a protestant’s as a papist’s. I should rather think it the work of some subtle courtier, who for safety got it printed abroad, and sent into England under the name of Parsons.”[9]
Allowing these arguments to the fullest extent, they are not sufficient to disprove the authorship ascribed to Parsons. The drift and character of this English Jesuit seem not to have been sufficiently taken in by these critics. There would certainly be no difficulty in the Jesuit assuming the mask of a moderate religionist, and a loyal subject; for the advantage of the disguise, he would even venture the bold stroke of condemning the martyrs. The conclusion of Dr. Mosse, that the book might be written by either a protestant or a papist, betrays its studied ambiguity. It was usual with the Jesuits to conform to prevalent opinions to wrestle with them. Sometimes the Jesuit was the advocate for the dethronement of monarchs, and at other times urged passive obedience to the right divine. In truth, it is always impossible to decide on the latent meaning of the Jesuitic pen. Pascal has exhausted the argument.
Dr. Ashton may be mistaken when he asserts that Parsons and Campian came to England in 1580, to further the designs of the King of Spain. The policy of the Roman Catholic party at that moment did not turn on the Spanish succession; during the life of the Scottish Mary, the party were all united in one design; it was at her death, in 1587, that it split into two opposite factions. At the head of one stood the Jesuit Parsons; in his rage and despair, having failed to win over the Scottish prince, he raised up the claims of the Spanish line, reckless of the ruin of his country by invasion and internal dissension: the other party, British at heart, consisting of laymen and gentlemen, would never concur in the invasion and conquest of England by a foreign prince. This curious contingency has been elucidated by our ambassador at the court of France, Sir Henry Neville, in a letter to Cecil.[10] It is therefore quite evident why “the book did not look that way,” as Dr. Ashton expresses it, and why all Parsons’ subsequent writings did.
Dr. Ashton considers it impossible that Parsons, who lived abroad so much of his lifetime, should be so intimate with the secret transactions of the court and country of England. But Parsons kept up a busy communication with this country. This he has himself incidentally told us, in his “Memorial for Reformation,” written in 1596; he says, “I have had occasion, above others, for more than twenty years, not only to know the state of matters in England, but also of many foreign nations.” It is recorded that he received three hundred letters from England on his Book of Titles. He was very critical in the history of our great families, and had a taste for personal anecdote, even to the gossip of the circle. In a remarkable work which he sent forth under the name of Andreas Philopater, a Latin reply to the queen’s proclamation, he describes her ministers as sprung from the earth. Of Sir Nicholas Bacon, he says that he was an under-butler at Gray’s Inn; of Lord Burleigh, that his father served under the king’s tailor, and that his grandfather kept an alehouse, and that for himself during Mary’s reign he had always his beads in his hand. In this defamatory catalogue, the Earl of Leicester is not forgotten: the son of a duke, the grandson of an esquire, and the great-grandson of a carpenter; a more flagitious man, a more insolent tyrant England never knew; never had the Catholics a more bitter enemy; books, both in the French and the English language, have exposed his debaucheries, his adulteries, his homicides, his parricides, his thefts, his rapines, his perjuries, his oppressions of the poor, his cruelties, his deceitfulness, and the injuries he did to the Catholic religion, to the public, and to private families. This is quite a supplement to Leicester’s “Commonwealth,” condensing all its original spirit.
That Lord Burleigh should have supplied materials for this political libel, stands next to an impossibility. One passage asserts that “the Lord Treasurer hath as much in his keeping of Leycester’s own hand-writing as is sufficient to hang him, if he durst present it to her majesty.” This could only have been a random stroke of the hardy writer; for were it absolutely true, that sage would never have entrusted that secret to any man. It would have been placing his own life in jeopardy. As for the tattle of the lady who, in delivering a letter from Leicester into the hands of Lord Burleigh, “at the door of the withdrawing chamber,” was instructed to drop it in a way that it might attract the queen’s notice, and induce her majesty to read it, it surely was not necessary for Lord Burleigh to communicate this “shift” of Leicester’s practices; the lady might have deposited this secret manœuvre in the ear of the faithless courtier who unquestionably contributed his zealous quota to this Leicesterian Commonwealth.
With regard to “the Conference,” the Roman Catholic historian, Dodd, and others, have inclined to doubt whether Parsons was the author; and their argument is—not an unusual one with the Jesuits—you cannot prove it, and he has denied it. Cardinal Allen and Sir Francis Englefield may have contributed to this learned work, but Parsons held the pen. It appeared under the name of Doleman; and it is said that the harmless secular priest who bore that name fell into trouble in consequence. We may for once believe Parsons himself, that the name was chosen for its significance, as “a man of dole,” grieving for the loss of his country. He has in other writings continued the initials, N. D., associating his feelings with these letters. On the same querulous principle, he had formerly taken that of “John Howlett,” or Owlet. He fancied such significant pseudonyms, in allusion to his condition; thus he took that of “Philopater.” He varied his initials, as well as his fictitious names. He was a Proteus whenever he had his pen in his hand; Protestant and Romanist, Englishman and Spaniard.