A New Martyrology, Martyrology · Life 4
ARTHUR Earl of Essex.
THat Party, and those Persons who were engag'd to manage the Designs before-mention'd, were now entred on the most compendious way of introducing what they desir'd, as well as avoiding what their own Consciences, and all the World knew they deserv'd. Having those in their own hands who had the Executive part of the Government in theirs; and finding no doubt a sort of malicious pleasure, as well as advantage, in destroying People by those Laws which were made to preserve 'em; a Villany to be compared with nothing but the Treason of that Monster of a Priest, who gave the Emperour Poison in the Blessed Sacrament: Having wrought up the Nation, and all Parties therein to a high ferment, making one side mad for Slavery, as if they had all been at Constantinople as well as their Sheriff, and learnt the Doctrine of the Bow-string; some of 'em treated, others cajoled, others frightned, and some few reason'd into the Belief of Absolute Authority in Kings, and Obedience Active as well as what is call'd Passive, to be paid to all their Commands. Some honest, several learned, more witty men joyning in with all their power to advance the Transactions at that time on the wheel. And on the other side, exasperating that Party who were more tenacious of their Liberties, as much as possible against the Constitution which they saw so horridly abused both in Church and State, perswading 'em all the Clergy were for making 'em Slaves▪ and themselves and the Court great to ride upon 'em; whereas really it was only a Party, tho' too large, who made more noise, tho' they had neither more sense nor number than those who differ'd from 'em; and by this means rendring many of the trading part of the Nation especially, so dissatisfied with 'em, and eager against 'em, that they began to think they had reason to fear as bad Effects thereof as they had experienced in the last Age, and so sided more closely with that Party whence they expected duplicate page duplicate page Protection. When things were in this posture, and a great many Persons either taken off from their natural Love to a lawful Liberty, which is so much of the very nature of an English-man; the Managers of the great Intrigue which was to accomplish our ruine, resolv'd after they had begun with Colledge, to rise higher, and flie at nobler Game, and take off all those whom they cou'd not win over, or against whom Interest or Revenge had more keenly engag'd 'em, and who were most likely to make the most vigorous opposition against their Attempts. But finding the London Juries unmoveably honest, and no way to accomplish their Designs on these Persons, while their Witnesses wou'd not be believ'd, and no way to get Juries fit for their turn, but by having Sheriffs of the same stamp; and finding the Party they had gotten, after all their tricks, which many of those who then knew, are now ashamed of, visibly and fairly out-numbred by those who were not yet ripe for Slavery, they bethought themselves of one way to rid themselves of that Inconveniency—which was by a Quo Warranto against the City of London, that they might more effectually and with less noise have what Sheriffs they pleas'd; or in effect, hang whomever they thought their Enemies, and not be forc'd almost to blush at those visible and sensible Illegalities with which they had forc'd those Officers upon the City.
This they had accomplish'd in the Year 1683. when Judgment was given against the Charter of London, whose Liberties had been confirm'd to 'em by William the Conquer…r, and deliver'd down before from immemorial Ages, and this by two Judges only in Westminster-Hall, tho' the greatest Cause, one may venture to say, that ever was legally try'd therein.
Now by this time they had, after so many former fruitless endeavours, brought something of a Plot to bear; and with this Advantage above all their former, that there was really something in't, altho', as Bays says in another Case, That Truth, which was notoriously blended with Lies and Perjuries. The occasion of it, we may best meet with in Holloway's most ingenuous Acknowledgment; [By Arbitrary and …llegal ways, and force of Arms, they had got Sheriffs to their mind,— Witnesses they had before, but wanted Jurors to believe them▪ N…w they have got Sheriffs who will find Jurors to believe any Evidence against a Protestant, and so hang up all the King's Friends by degrees.—None being suffered to come near the King but those who have been declared Enemies to the King and Kingdom, who to save themselves, do endeavour to keep all things from the King's knowledge, and perswade him against Parliaments, &c.]
Thus much for the Occasion. The Design seems to be the same with what was intended at first, by many of those great and eminent Persons, both Clergy and Laity, in their late appearance in Arms; tho' by the Providence of God, for the Security of the Nation, and Reason of State, it has since been carried farther than theirs was ever to have been. [Seeing fair means, says Holloway, would not do, but all things on the Protestants side misrepresented to the King by such great Criminals, and none more in favour than those,—To take the King from his Evil Council, and that (as the late wonderful Turn was transacted, and as 'tis impossible to be otherwise in business of so large a Concern, by a general Insurrection in several parts of England at ones.] All those who have had any share in the present Transactions, which are upon the matter all the Nation, have shewn themselves plainly of the same mind with those who were engaged in this, on which the Dispute runs, as to t…e Reason of the Thing, and the Principles on which they proceeded—And their only difference is about Matter of Fact, Whether Things were then at that heighth as to need desperate Remedies. If it be objected, That such Attempts are only glossy Pretences, vali'd under the specious name of the Publick Good.— The Answer is as ready as the Objection, Is there any difference between Reason and no Reason, Truth and Falshood? There is a right, and a wrong,—and if ever Liberties were invaded, and the Ends of Government vacated and annulled, never were the Foundations of such a Design plainer than on this Occasion— So that 'twas indeed, what was of it, a Counter-Plot, rather than a Plot against the Government and Laws of England, and that when no other Remedy could without a Miracle be expected.
That this was the heighth and utmost of the then Design, and that no brave good man need to be asham'd on't, I think all, or most men are by this time pretty well satisfied. But alas! this would not serve the turn of the Managers— Even this might not, nor perhaps could not be, as certainly 'twas not fairly prov'd against several, who suffered for it. This was a thing so necessary and defensible, that there was occasion of laying fouler colours upon't, to fright and amuse the World, and let 'em stand by patiently, and see their best and bravest Patriots sink, with much such Prudence and Wisdom as the Sheep in the Fable suffer'd those bloody Mastiffs to be destroy'd, who so often broke the Peace between them and the harmless Wolves; and were afterwards in their turns handsomly worried, and justly eaten up for their Reward. 'Twas convenient to make somewhat more of it—There must be an Assassination grafted on this Insurrection, or else all would not be worth—an Halter: 'Twas the business and interest of the Popish Party to render their Enemies odious as possible to the people, of whom for their steddy Zeal and Love to their Religion and Liberties they had long been the Darlings. To accomplish this, 'twas very necessary to get some Persons to insinuate into their Counsels, to inflame things higher, to make black and odious Proposals of Assassinations, and Murders, and such bloody Villanies as alarm the good-nature of an English-man with the very mentioning of 'em.— Which yet some of the honester and wiser looking upon as mad hot words only, or, if any more intended, having it in their power to prevent such wickedness another way, would not yet turn Informers, nor ruin those Persons, who in all probability were only Trapans to ruin them. In all the Papers relating to this matter, we shall find all Discourses of this nature center'd in West and Rumsey. West was very much for the Lopping business—for killing 'em in their Calling—and was full and eager of it . Tho' Walcot, Holloway, and all whoever heard it propos'd, receiv'd it still with the greatest Detestation imaginable, as a most base and bloody Action, which they never wou'd have their own Hands imbru'd in, nor their Posterity stain'd with. That all the great Persons, of Birth and Honour, were absolutely against any so foul an Action, and abhorr'd it from their Souls, we may find, even without the forc'd Confession of their worst Enemies, by the Lord Russel's concern when such a thing was mutter'd, and the Duke of Monmouth's Answer, —God so— Kill the King, I will never suffer it. The account we have of it, is from him who shou'd best know, and that's West, who in his Discourse with Holloway on this Occasion, tells him of the New-market and Rye-house Design—That the King and Duke were to be kill'd as they came by, for which they had provided Arms for fifty Men—and were promis'd Rumbald's House, which lay in the Road. When ask'd, VVho was to act it—who were to fire these Arms for fifty Men— Pistols, Carbines, and Blunderbusses? He cou'd name but two Men, Rumbald and his Brother; who certainly must have been very dexterous to have discharg'd all those dreadful Businesses themselves without Assistance, and is much such a likely Story as Colledges being so vain to attempt seizing the King by himself, without any Assistance.
But if even these two Brothers, who very likely were pickt out by the Evidence for the Kingkillers, meerly for their hard Names, the very sound of which wou'd be as shrew'd an Argument of their Guilt to VVomen and Children, and with as much Justice, as some of the odd Names of the poor People in the VVest were made, at least a strong Presumption against 'em, and almost as mortal as an Innuendo. …f even these two were innocent of this horrid Business, who were the onelyonly Persons ingaged therein, pray, VVhat then becomes of the Assassination? And won't Rumbald's Blunderbuss hear Laughing at full as well as …ickering's Carbine or Screw-Gun, and chaw'd Bul…ets. But if there be any thing solid in that Observation in Colledge's Case, That a Christian, and a Protestant won't forswear himself when he's just going out of the World; if this fair Supposition may but be granted me, as I see not how it can be avoided, the matter will be clear enough; Rumbald himself in his Speech at his Execution in Scotland absolutely disclaiming and denying any hand in any such Design. See his Speech▪ and Answer to his Indictment—[He desired all present to believe the words of a dying Man—as for having design'd the King's death, he never directly, nor indirectly, intended such a Villany; That he abhorr'd the very thoughts on't; and that he blessed God he had that Reputation in the VVorld, that he knew none had the Impudence to ask him the Question, and he detested the Thoughts of the Action, and hoped all good people wou'd believe him, which was the onelyonly way he had to clear himself; and he was sure that this Truth shou'd one Day be manifest to all Men.] So at his Execution—[I think it necessary to clear my self of some Aspersions laid on my Name; and first, That I shou'd have had so horrid an Intention of destroying the King and his Brother.] VVhere he repeated what he had said to the Jury on the same Subject.
The Sum is,— If any Assassination, it must have been by the Rumbalds: if not by them, as has been proved, then not at all. If no assassination in this Plot, then nothing is left of malignity in it, but a lawful and laudable opposition to the breach and ruine of our good Laws and Government; and even that, as will be proved, not proved against most of those that by the iniquity of the times, suffer'd for the same.
We have been forced to give this fair and impartial Scheme or Idea of that design which was at that time represented so formidable and dreadful, before we could handsomly proceed to the Death of this Noble Lord, or those others that followed him; and that as well from the order of the History, as for his Vindication. And as has been remark'd, 'Twas necessary for that Party who manag'd our ruine, that the forementioned business of the Assassination should be believed, and nothing like a real one actually performed, to gain Credit to a feigned one onelyonly pretended: For what could be a greater Argument that there was some black wickedness at the bottom, some sin of an extraordinary stain, like the Murder of Princes, bearing too hard on his Conscience, could possibly induce so great a Man to so unchristian an attempt on his own Person? Hence they might, and no doubt did argue— Hence the very rabble may easily reason—Certainly there was more in it than onelyonly just consultations, and necessary measures taken for the Publick Safety by the Peers of the Realm— by the King and Kingdoms best Friends, to deliver his Majesty from those Familiars that haunted him. There was more than this, and this Lord was conscious of it, or else certainly he had never acted what he has. Now this would effectually excite that aversion which must necessarily follow from all honest Men to a Party who could be guilty of such horrid designs. This must of necessity, as in effect it did, sway much with those Juries who were to sit upon the Lives of any accused or concerned in the same business, had there not been more weighty reasons to be produced below towards the finding 'em guilty. Altho 'tis certain, by their own confession, the best excuse they could make for Innocent Blood, particularly in Russel's Case, was that Confirmation they had to the Evidence sworn against 'em' by Essex's Murder. Besides, There might be a barbarous kind of a pleasure, in opening this Plot with a Scene so like that which began the Popish one; and that in all probability, by the same Actors whose hands were deep in the others.
There was a Gentleman kill'd, which contributed very much towards the credit of that Plot, tho in another way. Here must be one to undergo the same Fate for the same reason. And both of 'em too pretendedly to kill themselves— Just one as much as another.
These Preliminaries being cleared, 'twill be now time to come to the Person of this Noble Lord, his Family, and former manner of Life.
Every one knows he was of the Illustrious Family of the Capels, whose Father dy'd for a Family, whence he deserved better Treatment for his sake, and had received it, had he not fallen into the Hands of Popish Gratitude and Mercy; which his Enemies knowing too well, and doubting the Sweetness of temper which all the world ever acknowledged in King Charles the Second would not give him over to their publick Revenge, in all probability, resolved to take a shorter course with him. He had been some years before in the highest place under the King in Ireland, and there behaved himself with that Wisdom and Candor, inseparable from all the actions of his Life — and lived above Blame, though not above Envy: Being recalled thence unexpectedly, and dealt with not very handsomly; which yet he bore with a Spirit like a brave man, and a Christian.
My Lord of Essex was a Person, whom, 'twas no doubt the highest Interest of the Popish Faction to have gotten out of the way, even tho' there had been no such extraordinary Reason as has been mentioned. He had large Interest, a plentiful Estate, a great deal of Courage, understood the World, and the Principles and Practices of the Papists as well as any man, having been of several Secret Committees in the Examination of the Plot, on which very reason there was as much necessity for his dying as Sir E. B. Godfrey's. He was besides all this, they very well knew, of Inflexible Honesty, and so true a greatness of mind, they could no more expect to gain him, than Heaven it self to be on their side
As for the immediate Subject of his Death, the manner and cir…u…stances thereof — It must first be granted and a very reasonable demand it is, that for the present only supposing he was murder'd by the Papists they would, we may be sure, make it their business to render the manner of it as dark as the Hell in which 'twas contriv'd. Murders, especially of that magnitude, don't use to be committed in the face of all the world, and at Noon-day. When Power is engaged in any Villany, when the same Power is still continu'd or encreas'd, and can be easily exercis'd in taking out of the way the Traytors, tho' it loves the Treason; and when so many years have interven'd since the Fact; 'tis no wonder at all if things are more in the dark, than they would have been, had at that very instant Liberty been given to have enquired into it, which was so loudly and passionately demanded. But this we are yet certain of, tho' no more be yet publickly known in this matter than what has formerly been Printed; and tho' there may be several reasons, both of State and Decency, which may perhaps make it convenient that things should always be as they are; yet there are already such violent probabilities, both that he was murthered, and murthered by Papists; And of the other side, such at least next to impossibilities, in his acting it himself, that as long as the World stands, no modest man will be able either to get by 'em or over 'em; nor the most impudent or cunning, to out-face, or give them an answer.
For the probability that he was murther'd by Popish Contrivement, besides those already named, Why they should do it; here are these following Arguments, That they did it; Their Principles too openly known to be deny'd: Their Practices in all Ages, and this present,—Sir E.B.G. the very Prototype of Essex, Arnold; all the pretended Legal Murders, all that has since happened —But if 'tis said, some Papists are better and braver than others. Let's come nearer. Would those that formerly burnt London; those who have since broke all the Obligations of Gratitude and Good Nature, nay, Publick Faith, and the most solemn Oaths which 'tis possible for a man to take —Who, if the Testimonies of such as have confirmed it with their dying Breaths, and last drop o… Blood, may be credited, who have encouraged, hired, paid men for attempts to be made on the lives of their nearest, and too tender Relations; Would such as these stick at a single murther, a small Venial Villany to advance their Cause, and merit Heaven into the Bargain; When pretence of Justice, necessity of Affairs, Reason of State, and so many more such weights might be thrown into the Scales? More than all this— When such Persons as these were actually in the place where this Murther was committed, at the very instant 'twas done? All these together, with what is yet to follow, amount to as strong Arguments and pregnant Circumstances as the nature of the thing will bear, and mark out the Murtherers as plainly and visibly, as if they had come out of his Chamber with white Sleeves, and a long Knife in their Hands, bloody all over.
And indeed there seems need of little more than relating bare, simple, indubitable matter of Fact, and such as hardly any body will deny, to satisfie any cool rational man in the business.
The Earl of Essex's Throat was cut in the Tower the 13th of July, about Eight or Nine in the Morning, at which time the Duke of York, a bigotted Papist, his known bitter Enemy, was there present. This was reported at Andover, sixty miles from London, the 11th of July, the first day of his Imprisonment, and as common Towntalk in every bodies mouth, as Sir E.B.G's at the time of his murther, and told a Person travelling on the Road near the same place, which was witnessed before, even a Jeffreys, in a publick Court of Judicature. A Deputy-Coroner present at the Inquest instead of a Legal one; none of the Relations to attend the Inquest. The Body remov'd from the place where 'twas first laid, stript, the Clothes taken away, the Body and Rooms washed from the Blood, the Clothes denied the view of the Jury. The principal Witnesses examin'd, only Bomeny his man, and Russel his Warder, who might be so justly suspected of being privy to, if not Actors in it. That the Jury hasten'd and hurried the Verdict when so great a man, a Peer of the Realm, and such a Peer was concern'd, who was the King's Prisoner. When Sir Thomas Overbury had been before murther'd in the Tower, and his Jury brought in an unrighteous Verdict; when even Sir E. B. G's Jury, so much cry'd out against for their ill management, adjourn'd their Verdict, and staid considerably before they brought it in. This at a time when the Lord Russel was to be try'd for a share in a Plot in which the Earl was also accused of being concern'd. One Branch of which Conspiracy, and which 'twas so much the Papists Interest to have the belief on't fix'd, was a barbarous Murther of the Duke and King; when nothing cou'd so immediately, and critically tend to that noble Gentleman's ruine; when the News was instantly, with so much diligence, convey'd from the Tower to the Sessions-house, Bench, Bar, and Jury, and harp'd upon by the Lord Howar… just then and by others in after Trials, as the mor… than a thousand Witnesses, and the very finger of God. After this, the very Centinel, who that Day stood near the place, found dead in the Tower-Ditch, and Captain Hawley barbarously murther'd down at Rochester; and ill methods us'd to prevent the truth of all from coming to light. Mr. Braddon harass'd, prosecuted, jayl'd and fined for stirring in it. On the fair and impartial Consideration but of these things, hardly one of which but is notorious Matter of Fact, granted by all sides—What can a man conclude from the whole, but whether he will or no— That this noble Lord was certainly murthered by the Popish Party?
But there's yet more Evidence,—If he could not Murther himself in that manner, who then should do it but those on whom the Guilt on't has been justly charged? And this from the manner of it. His Throat was cut from one Jugular to the other, and by the Aspera Arteria and Windpipe to the Vertebrae of the Neck, both the Jugulars being throughly divided. How often has it been ask'd, and how impossible it should ever receive an Answer,—How could any Living Man, after the prodigious flux of Blood which must necessarily follow on the dividing one Jugular, as well as all those strong Muscles which lye in the way, how cou'd he ever have strength to go through, all round, and come to the other, without fainting? One cou'd as soon believe the Story of the Pirate, who after his Head was cut off, ran the whole length of his Ship; or that of St. Dennis, which was no doubt grafted on the other.
Nor is it rendered less impossible from the Instrument with which those who did it wou'd perswade the World 'twas perform'd by himself A little French Razor. Had Bomeny held to the Penknife, it had been much more likely. But here was nothing to rest or bear upon in the cutting, it having no Tongue to hold it up in the Haft: And as 'tis observ'd in the Prints on that Subject, he must therefore, supposing he had done it himself, have held his hand pretty far, upon the very Blade, and so with about two inches and a half of it, whittle out a wound of four inches deep and all round his Neck, as if he had intended to have been his own Headsman as well as Executioner, out of Remorse of Conscience for his Treason.
Lastly, His Character makes it morally impossible he should be guilty of so mean and little an Action. 'Tis for Women, and Eunuch's, and Lovers, and Romantick Hero's to kill themselves; not Men of known Virtue, Temper, Wisdom, Piety and Gravity; who had formerly digested as great Affronts as cou'd be put upon à Man, with a candor and calmness so worthy a Man and a Christian, who had been so far from defending so barbarous and unmanly a thing as Self-murther, as is suggested, that he had rather express himself with Detestation concerning it.
And as he ought not, and cou'd not be hurried into so fatal an Action by a false mistaken Greatness of Mind; as no such thing, or so much as the least Footsteps of it appear'd in the whole course of his Life; so from all his Actions in the Tower before his Death, we may fairly deduce the quite contrary to what his Enemies have asserted; and by observing his Conduct there, discover plainly that no such black Intention ever enter'd into his Mind. This appears from his ordering his People to have his own Plate sent for out of the Country to dress his Meat▪ as well as a considerable parcel of Wines bought and brought into the Tower for his drinking, that he might not stand to the Courtesie of his Enemies; and this sufficient to last him till he cou'd be deliver'd by due Course of Law.
I can foresee but one thing that can with the least plausibility be objected to this considerable Passage; and 'tis, That this was when he was first Committed, before he fell Melancholy, which he more eminently did when he heard my Lord Russel was to be try'd, as being griev'd and desperate for having brought so brave a Gentlemen into such unhappy Circumstances, as Bomeny somewhere or other pretends to, on discoursing with him on that particular.
But there are two Answers which cut all the Sinews of this Objection: One, That this was the very day before he was murder'd, that he sent both for his Wine and Silver Vessels. Now Bomeny lays the Foundation of his Melancholy, and the Intention to be his own Destroyer on the very first day he came into the Tower. For he says in his Deposition in Braddon's Trial, [That he had order'd his Servant two days before to provide a Penknife for him, on pretence of cutting his Nails, but with an intent of committing that Fatal and Tragical Act.] The Thirteenth of July was the day of his Martyrdom, two days before then must be the Eleventh, the day of his Commitment: But 'twas the intervening day, the Twelfth of that Month, on which he took such care to eat and drink safely: whereas had there been any such design in his Head, he wou'd never have taken such Measures; and if he had had an intention to amuze his People, that no such thing might have been suspected, he might have taken other ways, less troublesom and chargeable.
But what yet clears all the remaining Scruple, is his ordering his Gentleman to take Notes at my Lord Russel's Trial, appointing him how to manage himself for the effecting it, so calmly and orderly, that he can't be suppos'd, either disturb'd, or desperate on account of his own Guilt, or Russel's unhappiness; or to have taken this Course with himself, as Jeffreys says in Braddon's Trial, to prevent Justice, tho' others did it with him to prevent Mercy.
One great Argument more; That, which indeed when it happen'd, did much alarm all thinking men, and make 'em shrewdly suspect foul play had been offer'd-was the ill Treatment those met with who dared but pry into these Arcana Imperii, and desire but in a legal way that the Business might be reviewed, and search'd to the bottom. This was granted in the Case of poor Sir Edmund, many years after his Death, and Commission given to enquire into it to L'Estrange. — But 'tis confest there was a great deal of Difference. One, as 'twas manag'd, tending to root up all belief of a Popish Plot: T'other if it had been honestly examin'd, might have done as much in reality to a Protestant One. The great tenderness of some Persons, in this Case, and their huge aversion and unwillingness to be touch'd thereabouts; made People more than suspect, that there was some Sore or other in the Case which wou'd not endure it. Mr. Braddon had heard of a Boy, who being playing before Essex's window that Morning, saw a bloody Razor thrown out of the window; he thought he shou'd do the King Service to make a Discovery if any Injury had been offer'd to one of his Subjects, especially so great and good a Person. He brings the Boy with him to my L. Sunderland, and for his Reward is himself brought before the Council, severely Reprimanded, and forced to give 2000 l. Bail to Answer an Information for Suborning the Boy to say what he did. Upon which, after a great many worse vexations, which besides the charge and trouble▪ hindred also his Prosecution of the Business while 'twas yet fresh and warm, he was at last try'd: The very words to the Indictment running, —For his procuring and suborning false Witnesses to prove that the Earl of Essex was not a Felon of himself. &c. Of which, according to Jefferys Law, and the Conscience of the then Juries, he was found Guilty, and fin'd for the same, tho' not the least syllable of Practice or Subornation prov'd against him: tho' the Boy did himself acknowledge he had said those things, as well as several Witnesses prov'd it: tho' 'twas terribly suspicious that some Art had been afterwards used with the Boy to make him deny it; tho' Jefferys storm'd and rav'd, after his usual manner, when Mr. Wallop did put such a Question, and wou'd by no means have it be answer'd.
But whatever this couragious honest Gentleman suffer'd from their Spite and Malice, he bore all with handsom, and truly English Resolution. As he before his Imprisonment, and since, was indefatigably diligent in getting up the bottom of this soul Business; all English-men must own, he has deserv'd the Love and Honour of his Country, who was not discourag'd from acting even in the worst of times, against a whole enraged Faction. where he had such firm and pregnant Circumstances on which to ground his Attempt; tho' he cou'd not but be sensible he must undergo all the Censures of his Friends, as forward and imprudent; as well as all the hate and malice of his own and his Countries Enemies. He deserves a much fairer Commendation than here can be given him; but however, this was a just a Debt due to his Courage and Honesty, when he alone durst undertake what all the World else was afraid of: Durst still continue firm to Honour, and Conscience, and his first Resolution, in spite of Fines and Imprisonments, and has now outliv'd 'em all, to carry on his first Undertakings; whose Design therein, is no doubt just and generous, whatever the Event proves; And although so much Dust may have, since it happened, been purposely thrown on the Action, that it may be now more difficult, and perhaps unsuccessful to trace it, than 'twas before.
His Character.
IT must be confessed, 'tis a bold and dangerous thing to attempt the Character of one of the greatest Men which our Age has produc'd especially for one who had not the honour of any personal intimacy with him. All that's to be done is from what has been already said and what other Memoirs are left of him, to endeavour at something so like him, that any one who sees it, may say 'twas meant for the Picture of the Great Essex, how infinitely soever it must of necessity be short of its Original.
The first thing then remarkable in him, and which alone would sufficiently distinguish him, is, That he was a Person of strict Morals, and severe Piety; and that in the midst of a Court and Age not very famous for either. Nor did this degenerate into Superstition or Weakness. He was a refin'd Politician, without what some will say 'tis impossible to be so, and that's Dissimulation. When Affronts were offer'd him, he did not, as others, dissemble 'em, but, like himself only, scorn and conquer 'em; even tho' of the highest nature, and which generally pierce deepest into Persons of his Figure and Character. He was, as all the rest here commemorated, a firm Lover of his Country and Religion, the true Character of a true Englishman; and engaged on their sides against the then Duke of York, and other Ministers, not from any mean pique or little discontented Humour, which he was very much above, but meerly from the true respect he had for 'em, and a sense of that imminent Danger they were in, which his piercing Judgment and long Experience made him more sensible of, and his Courage and Vertue more concern'd at, than others; not only those who sat unconcern'd Spectators, or shar'd in their Ruins; but even then most of them who were engag'd with him in the same Common Cause of their Defence and Preservation. Nothing of such an impatience, or eargerness, or black melancholy cou'd be discern'd in his Temper or Conversation, as is always the Symptom or Cause of such Tragical-Ends, as his Enemies wou'd perswade us he came to.
Lastly, What may be said of most of the rest, does in a more especial and eminent manner agree to the illustrious Essex; and than which nothing greater can be said of Mortality, He liv'd an Hero, and dy'd a Martyr.
Upon the Execrable Murther of the Right Honourable Arthur Earl of Essex.
MOrtality wou'd be too frail to hear
How ESSEX fell, and not dissolve with fear;
Did not more generous Rage take off the blow,
And by his Blood, the steps to Vengeance show.
The Tow'r was for the Tragedy design'd,
And to be slaughter'd, he is first confin'd:
As fetter'd Victims to the Altar go.
But why must Noble ESSEX perish so?
Why with such fury drag'd into his Tomb,
Murther'd by slaves and sacrific'd to Rome?
By stealth they kill, and with a secrect stroke
Silen…e that Voice which charm'd when e'er it spoke.
The bleeding Orifice o'reflow'd the Ground,
More like some mighty Deluge, than a Wound.
Through the large space his Blood and Vitals glide,
And his whole Body might have past beside.
The wreaking Crimson swell'd into a Flood,
And stream'd a second time in Capel's Blood.
He's in his Son again to Death pursu'd,
An Instance o… the high'st Ingratitude.
They then malicious Stratagems Imploy,
With Life, his dearer Honour to destroy,
And make his Fame extinguish with his Breath;
An Act beyond the Cruelties of Death.
Here Murther is in all its shapes compleat,
As Lines united in their Centre meet,
Form'd by the blackest Politicks of Hell;
Was Cain so dev'lish when his Brother fell?
He that contrives, or his own Fate desires,
Wants Courage, and for fear of Death expires;
But mighty ESSEX was in all things brave,
Neither to Hope, nor to Despair, a Slave.
He had a Soul too Innocent, and Great,
To fear, or to anticipate his Fate:
Yet their exalted Impudence and Guilt,
Charge on himself the precious Blood they spilt.
So were the Protestants some years ago
Destroy'd in Ireland without a Foe.
By their own barbarous Hands the Mad-men dye:
And Massacre themselves they know not why:
Whilst the kind Irish howl to see the Gore,
And pious Catholicks their Fate deplore.
If you refuse to trust Erroneous Fame,
Royal Mac-Ninny will confirm the same.
We have lost more in injur'd Capel's heir,
Than the poor Bankrupt age can e're repair.
Nature indulg'd him so, that there we saw
All the choice strokes her steddy hand cou'd draw.
He the Old English Glory did revive,
In him we had Plantagenets alive.
Grandeur, and Fortune, and a vast Renown
Fit to support the lustre of a Crown.
All these in him were potently conjoyn'd,
But all was too ignoble for his Mind.
Wisdom and Vertue, Properties Divine,
Those, God-like ESSEX, were entirely thine.
In his great Name he's still preserv'd alive,
And will to all succeeding times survive.
With just Progression, as the constant Sun
Doth move, and through its bright Ecliptick Run.
For whilst his Dust does undistinguish'd lye,
And his blest Soul is soar'd above the Sky,
Fame shall below his parted Breath supply.