Position of Essex.
Sir Henry Wotton, who was a good judge and who had special means of observation in this case, was of opinion that Essex wore out the Queen’s patience by his petulance. He has recorded that a wise and, as it turned out, prophetic adviser warned the Earl that, though he might sometimes carry a point by sulking at Wanstead, at Greenwich, or in his own chamber, yet in the long run such conduct would lead to ruin. ‘Such courses as those were like hot waters, which help at a pang, but if they be too often used will spoil the stomach.’ The advice was not taken, and Essex continued to treat every check as a personal insult. The natural effect followed, and by the year 1598 ‘his humours grew tart, as being now in the lees of favour.’[300]
He offends the Queen
by his petulance.
Burghley died a few days before the disaster at Blackwater, and Philip II. not many days after. The policy of Spain was not much affected, though the change might be thought like that from Solomon to Rehoboam; but England missed the wise and kindly hand which had often held Essex straight. Bagenal’s overthrow brought into sudden prominence that thorny problem with which the impetuous favourite was of all men the least fit to cope. Patience, steadiness, organising power, knowledge of men, were the qualities needed in Ireland then, as now, and Essex was conspicuously deficient in them all. ‘I will tell you,’ said a great court official, ‘I know but one friend and one enemy my lord hath: and that one friend is the Queen, and that one enemy is himself.’ It seemed as if no misconduct could permanently alienate Elizabeth, and yet he tried her forbearance very hardly. A few days or weeks before the old Lord Treasurer’s death, she had proposed to send Sir William Knollys, Essex’s uncle, to govern Ireland. The Earl favoured the appointment of Sir George Carew, who was certainly much fitter for the work than himself, and whom he was thought to be anxious to remove from the court. The Queen insisting, he turned his back on her with a gesture of contempt. Raleigh—who was, however, his enemy—says he exclaimed that ‘her conditions were as crooked as her carcase.’ She in turn lost her temper, and gave him a box on the ear. He laid his hand on his sword, swearing that he would not have endured such an indignity from Henry VIII. himself, and immediately departed to Wanstead.
‘Your Majesty hath,’ he afterwards wrote to Elizabeth, ‘by the intolerable wrong you have done both me and yourself, not only broken all laws of affection, but done against the honour of your sex. I think all places better than that where I am, and all dangers well undertaken, so I might retire myself from the memory of my false, inconstant, and beguiling pleasures.’ Of course it was very undignified of the Queen to strike anyone, but many things may be urged in excuse. She was old enough to be her favourite’s grandmother. She had known him from early youth, and she had every reason to look upon him still in the light of a spoiled child. No one with any sense of humour would resent a blow from a woman as from a man, and Essex might very well have treated it all as a joke. But what is to be said for a man who insults a lady well stricken in years, who is his sovereign, and who has heaped upon him honours and benefits far beyond his deserts?[301]
Essex determines to be Viceroy.
Norris and Bingham being dead, the appointment of a Lord Deputy became a matter of pressing necessity. The Queen thought of Mountjoy, who, as the event proved, was, of all men, fittest for the arduous task. But Essex objected to him, much upon the same grounds as Iago objected to Michael Cassio. He had indeed some experience in the field, but only in subordinate posts; and he was ‘too much drowned in book learning.’ Another argument was that he was a man of small estate and few followers, and that ‘some prime man of the nobility’ should be sent into Ireland. Everyone understood that he had come to want the place himself, and that he would oppose every possible candidate.
During the autumn of 1598 and far into the winter, the affair hung fire, more perhaps from the difficulty of satisfying his demands for extraordinary powers than from any wish to refuse him the dangerous honour. Indeed, if we may believe Camden, his enemies foresaw his failure, and were only too anxious to help him to the viceroyalty on any terms. About the new year his appointment seemed to be certain, and by the first week in March everything was settled. ‘I have beaten Knollys and Mountjoy in the Council,’ Essex wrote in great exultation, ‘and by God I will beat Tyr-Owen in the field; for nothing worthy her Majesty’s honour hath yet been achieved.’ It is not in such boastful mood that great men are wont to put on their armour. And besides all this, Knollys was his uncle and Mountjoy his familiar friend.[302]
His uneasy ambition.