Where London’s Tow’re its turrets show
So stately by the Thames’s side,
Fair Arabella, child of woe!
For many a day had sat and sighed.
And as shee heard the waves arise,
And as shee heard the bleake windes roare,
As fast did heave her heartfelte sighes,
And still so fast her teares did poure![197]
During a confinement of four years the lady Arabella “sunk beneath the hopelessness of her situation, and a secret resolution in her mind to refuse the aid of her physicians, and to wear away the faster, if she could, the feeble remains of life.” The particulars of her “dreadful imprisonment” are unknown, but her letters show her affliction, and that she often thought on suicide, and as often was prevented by religious fortitude. “I could not,” she says, “be so unchristian as to be the cause of my own death.”
She affectingly paints her situation in one of her addresses to James. “In all humility, the most wretched and unfortunate creature that ever lived, prostrates itselfe at the feet of the most merciful king that ever was, desiring nothing but mercy and favour, not being more afflicted for any thing than for the losse of that which hath binne this long time the onely comfort it had in the world, and which, if it weare to do again, I would not adventure the losse of for any other worldly comfort; mercy it is I desire, and that for God’s sake!”
She “finally lost her reason,” and died in prison distracted. “Such is the history of the lady Arabella. A writer of romance might render her one of those interesting personages whose griefs have been deepened by their royalty, and whose adventures, touched with the warm hues of love and distraction, closed at the bars of her prison-grate—a sad example of a female victim to the state!
‘Through one dim lattice, fring’d with ivy round,
Successive suns a languid radiance threw,
To paint how fierce her angry guardian frown’d,
To mark how fast her waning beauty flew!’”
Her husband, Seymour, regained his liberty. Charles I. created him marquis of Hertford; and, under Charles II., the dukedom of Somerset, which had been lost to his family by attainder for ancient defections, was restored to it in his person. He “retained his romantic passion for the lady of his first affections; for he called the daughter he had by his second lady by the ever beloved name of Arabella Stuart.”[198]
Nothing remains to mark the character of this noble-minded female, but the scanty particulars from whence the present are gathered, with some letters and a few rhapsodies written while her heart was breaking, and her understanding perishing. At that period she wrote the letter [here] brought to light towards gratifying a natural curiosity for every thing relating to her character and person; with the same intent her handwriting is faithfully traced, and subjoined from her subscription to the original.