Essex possessed, as much as Leicester himself, the art of stimulating Elizabeth in his own behalf to acts of munificence; and she soon consoled him by some valuable grants for any anxiety which her threatened indignation might have occasioned him, or any disappointment which he might have conceived in seeing sir Christopher Hatton preferred by her to himself as Leicester's successor in the office of chancellor of the university of Cambridge.
Among the gallant adventurers in the cause of don Antonio sir Walter Raleigh had made one, and he also was received by her majesty on his return with tokens of distinguished favor. But not long after he embarked for Ireland, in which country he remained without public employment till the spring of 1592, when he undertook an expedition against the Spanish settlements in South America.
The ostensible purpose of his visit to Ireland was to superintend the management of those large estates which had been granted him in that country; but it was the story of the day, that "the earl of Essex had chased Raleigh from court and confined him into Ireland[100]:" and the length of his absence, with the known enmity between these rival-favorites, lends some countenance to the suggestion.
That Essex, even in the early days of his favor, already assumed the right of treating as interlopers such as advanced too rapidly in the good graces of his sovereign, we learn from an incident which probably occurred about this time, and is thus related by Naunton. "My lord Montjoy, being but newly come to court, and then but sir Charles Blount, had the good fortune one day to run very well a tilt; and the queen therewith was so well pleased, that she sent him a token of her favor, a queen at chess of gold, richly enamelled, which his servants had the next day fastened on his arm with a crimson ribbon; which my lord of Essex, as he passed through the privy chamber, espying, with his cloak cast under his arm, the better to commend it to the view, enquired what it was, and for what cause there fixed. Sir Fulk Greville told him that it was the queen's favor, which the day before, and after the tilting, she had sent him: whereat my lord of Essex, in a kind of emulation, and as though he would have limited her favor, said, 'Now I perceive every fool must have a favor.'
"This bitter and public affront came to sir Charles Blount's ear, who sent him a challenge, which was accepted by my lord; and they went near Marybonepark, where my lord was hurt in the thigh and disarmed: the queen, missing the men, was very curious to learn the truth; and when at last it was whispered out, she swore by God's death, it was fit that some one or other should take him down, and teach him better manners, otherwise there would be no rule with him[101]."
Notwithstanding her majesty's ostentation of displeasure against her favorite on this occasion, it is pretty certain that he could not better have paid his court to her than by a duel of which, in spite of her wisdom and her age, she seems to have had the weakness to imagine her personal charms the cause. She compelled however the rivals to be reconciled: from this period all the externals of friendship were preserved between them; and there is even reason to believe, notwithstanding some insinuations to the contrary, that latterly at least the sentiment became a genuine one. If the queen had further insisted on cementing their reconciliation by an alliance, she would have preserved from its only considerable blot the brilliant reputation of sir Charles Blount. This courtier, whilst he as yet enjoyed no higher rank than that of knighthood, had conceived an ardent passion for a sister of the earl of Essex; the same who was once destined to be the bride of Philip Sidney. She returned his attachment; but her friends, judging the match inferior to her just pretensions, broke off the affair and compelled her to give her hand to lord Rich; a man of disagreeable character, who was the object of her aversion. In such a marriage the unfortunate lady found it impossible to forget the lover from whom tyrannical authority had severed her; and some years after, when Montjoy returned victorious from the Irish wars, she suffered herself to be seduced by him into a criminal connexion, which was detected after it had subsisted for several years, and occasioned her divorce from lord Rich. Her lover, now earl of Devonshire, regarded himself as bound in love and in honor to make her his wife; but to marry a divorced woman in the lifetime of her husband was at this time so unusual a proceeding and regarded as so violent a scandal, that Laud, then chaplain to the earl of Devonshire, who joined their hands, incurred severe blame, and thought it necessary to observe the anniversary ever after as a day of humiliation. King James, in whose reign the circumstance took place, long refused to avail himself further of the services of the earl; and the disgrace and vexation of the affair embittered, and some say abridged, the days of this otherwise admirable person. Whether any incidents connected with this attachment had a share in producing that hostile state of feeling in the mind of Essex towards Blount which led to their combat, remains matter of conjecture.
This year the customary festivities on the anniversary of her majesty's accession were attended by one of those romantic ceremonies which mark so well the taste of the age and of Elizabeth. This was no other than the formal resignation by that veteran of the tilt-yard, sir Henry Leigh, of the office of queen's champion, so long his glory and delight. The gallant earl of Cumberland was his destined successor, and the momentous transfer was accomplished after the following fashion.
Having first performed their respective parts in the chivalrous exercises of the band of knights-tilters, sir Henry and the earl presented themselves to her majesty at the foot of the gallery where she was seated, surrounded by her ladies and nobles, to view the games. They advanced to slow music, and a concealed performer accompanied the strain with the following song.
My golden locks time hath to silver turn'd,
(Oh time too swift, and swiftness never ceasing)
My youth 'gainst age, and age at' youth hath spurn'd:
But spurn'd in vain, youth waneth by increasing,
Beauty, strength, and youth, flowers fading been,
Duty, faith, and love, are roots and evergreen.
My helmet now shall make a hive for bees,
And lovers songs shall turn to holy psalms;
A man at arms must now sit on his knees,
And feed on pray'rs that are old age's alms.
And so from court to cottage I depart;
My saint is sure of mine unspotted heart.
And when I sadly sit in homely cell,
I'll teach my swains this carrol for a song:
"Blest be the hearts that think my sovereign well,
Curs'd be the souls that think to do her wrong."
Goddess, vouchsafe this aged man his right,
To be your beadsman now, that was your knight.