Fulk Greville was one of the few who did honor to themselves by becoming at this time the advocate of Francis Bacon with the queen; and his solicitations were heard by her with such apparent complacency, that he wrote to Bacon, that he would wager two to one on his chance of becoming attorney, or at least solicitor-general. But Essex was to be mortified, and the influence of this generous Mæcenas was exerted finally in vain. To his unfortunate choice of a patron then, joined to the indiscreet zeal with which that patron pleaded his cause "in season and out of season," we are to ascribe in part the neglect experienced by Bacon during the reign of Elizabeth. But other causes concurred, which it may be interesting to trace, and which it would be injustice both to the queen and to Burleigh to pass over in silence.
At the period when Bacon first appealed to the friendship of the lord treasurer in the letter above cited, he was already in the thirtieth year of his age, and had borne for two years the character of queen's counsel extraordinary; but to the courts of law he was so entire a stranger that it was not till one or two years afterwards that we find him pleading his first cause. It was pretty evident therefore in 1592, when he sought the office of attorney-general, that necessity alone had made it the object of his wishes; and his known inexperience in the practice of the law might reasonably justify in the queen and her ministers some scruple of placing him in so responsible a post. As a philosopher indeed, no encouragement could exceed his deserts; but this was a character which very few even of the learned of that day were capable of appretiating. Physical science, disgraced by its alliance with the "blind experiments" of alchemy and the deluding dreams of judicial astrology, was in possession of few titles to the respect of mankind; and its professors,—credulous enthusiasts, for the most part, or designing impostors,—usually ended by bringing shame and loss on such persons as greedy hopes or vain curiosity bribed to become their patrons.
That general "Instauration" of the sciences which the mighty genius of Bacon had projected, was a scheme too vast and too profound to be comprehended by the minds of Elizabeth and her statesmen; and as it was not of a nature to address itself to their passions and interests, we must not wonder if they should have regarded it with indifference. At this period, too, it existed only in embryo; and so little was the public intellect prepared to seize the first hints thrown out by its illustrious author, that even many years afterwards, when his system had been produced to the world nearly in a state of maturity, the general sentiment seems pretty much to have corresponded with the judgement of king James, "that the philosophy of Bacon was like the peace of God, which passeth all understanding."
All these considerations, however, are scarcely sufficient to vindicate the boasted discernment of Elizabeth from disgrace, in having suffered the most illustrious sage of her reign and country, who was at the same time its brightest wit and most accomplished orator, known to her from his birth, and the son of a wise and faithful servant whose memory she held in honor,—to languish in poverty and discouragement; useless to herself and to the public affairs, and a burthen to his own thoughts.
The king of France found it expedient about this time to declare himself a convert to the church of Rome. For this change of religion, whether sincere or otherwise, he might plead, not only the personal motive of gaining possession of the throne of his inheritance, which seemed to be denied to him on other terms, but the patriotic one of rescuing his exhausted country from the miseries of a protracted civil war; and whatever might be the decision of a scrupulous moralist on the case, it is certain that Elizabeth at least had small title to reprobate a compliance of which, under the reign of her sister, she had herself set the example. But the character of the protestant heroine with which circumstances had invested her, obliged her to overlook this inconsistency; and as demonstrations cost her little, she not only indicted on the occasion a solemn letter of reproof to her ally, but actually professed herself so deeply wounded by his dereliction of principle, that it was necessary for her to tranquillize her mind by the perusal of many pious works, and the study of Boethius on consolation, which she even undertook the task of translating. Essex, whom she honored with a sight of her performance, was adroit enough to suggest to the royal author, as a principal motive of his urgency with her to restore Francis Bacon to her favor, the earnest desire which he felt that her majesty's excellent translations should be viewed by those most capable of appretiating their merits.
The indignation of Elizabeth against Henry's apostasy was not however so violent as to exclude the politic consideration, that it was still her interest to support the king of France against the king of Spain; and besides continuing her wonted supplies, she soon after entered with him into a new engagement, purporting that they should never make peace but by mutual consent.
Bretagne was still the scene of action to the English auxiliaries. Under sir John Norris, their able commander, they shared in the service of wresting from the Spaniards, by whom they had been garrisoned, the towns of Morlaix, Quimpercorentin and Brest; their valor was every where conspicuous; and the eagerness of the young courtiers of Elizabeth to share in the glory of these enterprises rose to a passion, which she sometimes thought it necessary to repress with a show of severity; as in the following instance related by Naunton.
Sir Charles Blount, afterwards lord Montjoy, "having twice or thrice stolen away into Bretagne (where under sir John Norris he had then a company) without the queen's leave and privity, she sent a messenger unto him, with a strict charge to the general to see him sent home. When he came into the queen's presence, she fell into a kind of reviling, demanding how he durst go over without her leave? 'Serve me so,' quoth she, 'once more, and I will lay you fast enough for running; you will never leave it until you are knocked on the head, as that inconsiderate fellow Sidney was. You shall go when I send you, and in the meantime see that you lodge in the court,' (which was then at Whitehall) 'where you may follow your book, read and discourse of the wars.'"
Philip II., unable to win glory or advantage against Elizabeth in open and honorable warfare, sought a base revenge upon her by proposing through secret agents vast rewards to any who could be brought to attempt her destruction. It was no easy task to discover persons sufficiently rash, as well as wicked, to undertake from motives purely mercenary a villany of which the peril was so appalling; but at length Fuentes and Ibarra, joint governors of the Netherlands, succeeded in bribing Dr. Lopez, domestic physician to the queen, to mix poison in her medicine. Essex, whose watchfulness over the life of his sovereign was remarkable, whilst his intelligences were comparable in extent and accuracy to those of Walsingham himself, was the first to give notice of this atrocious plot. At his instance Lopez was apprehended, examined before himself, the treasurer, the lord admiral, and Robert Cecil, and committed to custody in the earl's house. But nothing decisive appearing on his first examination, Robert Cecil took occasion to represent the charge as groundless; and her majesty, sending in heat for Essex, called him "rash and temerarious youth," and reproached him for bringing on slight grounds so heinous a suspicion upon an innocent man. The earl, incensed to find his diligent service thus repaid, through the successful artifice of his enemy, quitted the presence in a paroxysm of rage, and, according to his practice on similar occasions, shut himself up in his chamber, which he refused to quit till the queen herself two or three days afterwards sent the lord admiral to mediate a reconciliation.
Further interrogatories, mingled probably with menaces of the torture, brought Lopez to confess the fact of his having received the king of Spain's bribe; but he persisted in denying that it was ever in his thoughts to perpetrate the crime. This subterfuge did not, however, save him from an ignominious death, which he shared with two other persons whom Fuentes and Ibarra had hired for a similar undertaking.