be permitted to attend in his place in parliament; | said he, "good hope, at last, that we may come but this also was refused, and illegally, for he had been convicted of no treason, no crime by law. If Norfolk had been ever so well inclined to keep his engagement, this was certainly the way to make him break it in sheer desperation. Upon the arrest of Bailly he was more closely looked to; but some months elapsed before the matter was brought to his own door. At the end of August, 1571, one Brown, of Shrewsbury, carried to the privy council a certain bag full of money, which he said he had received from Hickford, the Duke of Norfolk's secretary, with directions to carry it to Bannister, the duke's steward. The lords opened the bag, and counted the money, which amounted to £600. But there was something else in the bag that gave them more trouble, in the shape of two tickets, or notes, written in cipher. As Brown named Hickford, the poor secretary was apprehended, and on the 2d of September, he deciphered the two notes, which, with the money, were destined for Lord Herries in Scotland, who was making fresh exertions there with her party in favour of the capfive queen. Sir Ralph Sadler was immediately sent for to guard the Duke of Norfolk, who was then at Howard House; where, on the 5th of September, on a strict examination, he denied all that Hickford had confessed. Two days afterwards he was committed to his old apartment in the Tower. In the meanwhile Bannister, and Barker, another secretary of the duke's, had been arrested; and as the Bishop of Ross had long been in custody with the Bishop of London, the Bishop of Ely, and others, it was easy to lay hold of him. Hickford did not stop at betraying the key to the ciphers; he confessed many other things against his master the duke, without much pressing, and voluntarily offered to show some secret places in his house where his master had deposited letters. As the rest of Norfolk's servants were much attached to their master, and would confess nothing till they were tortured, or threatened with torture, it has been supposed by many that this Hickford had been for some time in the pay of the court. Bannister's fortitude and fidelity did not give way till he had suffered torture, but Barker's forsook him when he was shown the horrid rack. On the 20th of September Sir Thomas Smith, the matrimonial diplomatist, wrote to Cecil, now Lord Burghley, in a pleasant humour. "We have," 1 Cecil's Diary. It appears that the Scotch bishop was not brought to London till the end of October, when he was removed from Ely, and that he was not committed to the Tower till the month of November.-Ibid. 3 Cecil was created Baron Burghley in 1571. In 1572 he received the order of the Garter, and in the same year succeeded the Marquis of Winchester as lord high-treasurer, which office he held till his death. home: we think surely, that we have done all disclosures which were then made is unknown, and her ministers, to attend in Westminster Hall as the examination cannot be found.' on the 16th day of the same month. Among these were included, with other members of Elizabeth's privy council, Burghley who had been But the rumours which were sent abroad beyond the dungeon-cells and the walls of the Tower, and industriously spread among the peo-active in arranging the prosecution, and the Earl ple, were of a terrific nature. The Duke of Alva of Leicester, who had originally excited Norfolk was coming with an army of bloody Papists to to attempt a marriage with the Scottish queen, burn down London, and exterminate the queen, who had signed the letter to Mary, and who was the Protestant religion, and all good Protestants; now athirst for the blood of the unfortunate priand the pope was to send the treasures of Rome to soner, his miserable dupe. On the day appointed forward these deeds, and was to bless them when the peers met in Westminster Hall at an early done. Every wind might bring legions of ene-hour in the morning, and the duke was brought mies to the British coast; every town in England, to the bar by the lieutenant of the Tower and every house, might conceal some desperate trai- | Sir Peter Carew. The lords were assisted by the tor and cruel Papist, bound by secret oaths to judges and all the law officers of the crown. join the invaders, and direct their slaughter and About half-past eight the lord high-steward stood their burning; so that none should escape that up at his chair bare-headed, and the gentlemanprofessed the true religion, and none suffer that usher holding the white rod before him, the serbore the marks of the beast of Rome. A won-jeant-at-arms made proclamation. The duke, derful alarm was excited by one Herle, who disclosed what was called a plot for murdering some of her majesty's privy council. Kenelm Barney and Edmund Mather, men as obscure as himself, were put upon their metal in the Tower, Herle, their former associate, being witness against them. All that could be proved against them was, that they were two contemptible scoundrels (each ready to betray the other), who were discontented with the court and the present government, which gave no promotion except to such "as were perfumed and court-like," meaning such men as Leicester and Hatton; and who had talked in public-houses and lodging-houses about rescuing the Duke of Norfolk from the Tower and from certain death. Little confidence can be placed in the revelations of such men, whose imaginations were stretched by the rack and the dread of death. But on the trial Mather and Barney were convicted on the strength of their joint confessions, and on the evidence of Herle. They were drawn from the Tower to Tyburn, and there hanged, bowelled, and quartered, for treason. Herle received a full pardon.3 Much time had been spent in preparing for the public trial of the Duke of Norfolk; but at length, on the 14th of January, nearly a month before the executions last alluded to, the queen named the Earl of Shrewsbury, the keeper of Queen Mary, to be lord high-steward; and Shrewsbury summoned twenty-six peers, selected by Elizabeth 1 Jardine, Criminal Trials. If this examination had made for the prosecution it would probably have been carefully preserved. 2 The first inkling of this business was given by Herle in a letter to Lord Burghley, dated the 4th of January, 1572. "Of late," he says, "I have, upon discontent, entered into conspiracy with some others to slay your lordship; and, the time appointed, a man with a perfect band attended you three several times in your garden, to have slain your lordship. The which not fallen out, and continuing in the former mischief, the height of your study window is taken towards the garden, minding, if they with a haughty look perused the countenances of miss these means, to slay you with a shot upon the terrace, or The duke besought the lords, if the law would permit it, that he might be allowed counsel. Catline, the chief-justice, told him that the law allowed no counsel in cases of high treason. Upon this Norfolk complained that he was hardly handled. "I have had," said he, " very short warning to provide an answer to so great a matter-not fourteen hours in all, both day and night. I have had short warning and no books; neither books of statutes, nor so much as a breviate of the statutes. I am brought to fight without a weapon." He said that he was an unlearned man-that he hoped that they would not overlay him with speeches; that his memory was never good, but now much worse than it was. The duke, however, showed no lack of memory and ready wit, and his acquaintance with the statutes and with Bracton was such that the attorney-general thought proper to taunt him with his nice knowledge of the law. He pleaded not guilty, maintaining-1st. That the Queen of Scots was not the enemy or competitor of his sovereign-that, on the death of her husband, the French king, she put away the title of Queen of England—that, though her assumption of that title was now cited as the sole proof of her being an enemy, and having always been an enemy, yet the queen, his mistress, had had friendship with her during the ten years which had elapsed since that offence, standing godmother to her son, and doing other kind offices, and that, therefore, in trying to marry the Scottish queen, or in assisting her, he was not guilty of treason. 2d. That he had never spoken with Rudolfi the Italian but once, and then only regarding some private loan and banking business; hearing from him, indeed, that he (Rudolfi) was intending to seek aid of money among the friends of the Scottish queen, but, as he (the duke) understood him, not for the purpose of levying war in England with this money, but merely that it might be applied by Mary to her own comfort and the encouragement of her own faithful subjects in Scotland. 3d. That he had never supplied the English rebels in the north with money at the time of their insurrection, although he acknowledged having since sent some assistance to the Countess of Westmoreland, who was his own sister, and in the greatest distress; and that he had given his opinion as to the proper mode of distributing certain sums which had been sent into Flanders by the pope for the relief of the noble English exiles. He admitted that a letter from the pope, of about six or seven lines in Latin, and beginning, Dilecte, fili, salutem, had been delivered to him; but he said that he was offended with this liberty, and asked what he bad to do with the pope, who was an enemy to his religion and his country? Norfolk, who in his early life had been the pupil of the puritanic Fox, the martyrologist, and who had always passed for a good Protestant, vowed repeatedly on his trial that he would rather be torn to pieces by wild horses than entertain for a moment the notion of any change of religion. Everything the duke said was declared to be false, and was met by the written depositions (all cobbled and garbled) of his servants and accomplices. When he objected to such evidence he was told that the oaths of the witnesses, who had sworn to all they alleged, were worth more than his bare denial. He demanded to be personally confronted with the witnesses; but this was denied to him. There was, indeed, one witness produced, but he had known neither chains nor torture; he was an agent who had been employed by the Earl of Leicester to ensnare the prisoner, and it would have been well for the decency of the process if he had been kept out of sight altogether. We have mentioned in what manner the evidence of the Bishop of Ross had been extracted: Dr. Wilson, the master of the requests, and who, with Sir Thomas Smith, had taken his depositions, wanted him to appear in court and give his evidence orally, but, lacking in courage as he was, the bishop refused, saying, "I never conferred with the duke myself in any of these matters, but only by his servants, nor yet heard him speak one word at any time against his duty to his prince and country; and if I shall be forced to be present, I will publicly profess before the whole nobility that he never opened his mouth maliciously or traitorously against the queen or the realm." Norfolk repeatedly said that the bishop was a very timid man-that Barker was a timid man-that only Bannister had courage united to fidelity, and that he was "shrewdly cramped" when he made the false confession they produced. And then Barham, the queen's serjeant, most impudently asserted that Bannister had been no more tortured than the duke himself had been. The famous letter inculpating Norfolk, written by Moray, the late regent, was read in court, together with a letter said to have been sent by the duke to Moray, without going into any proof of the genuineness of those documents. A great deal of the evidence went upon mere hearsay, and that at second or third hand, but the strangest thing of all—the grossest possible interference of the queen-occurred in enforcing that particular part of the prosecution which related to the Rudolfi conspiracy. The solicitor-general stood up, and said, "I have also, my lords, one thing more to say to you from the queen's own mouth. The lords of It was merely said, with respect to the duke's letter, that the regent had sent a copy of it to Elizabeth in his (Moray's) handwriting. They did not even profess to have seen the original. foreign arms and foreign money, there can be little doubt; but it would have been no unusual case if the conspirators had cloaked and concealed their extremest views from the duke, who was evidently a tool in the hands of more crafty. more daring, and inveterate plotters. If he were privy to the conspiracy in its full extent-which he always denied, and which was never proved against him by unsuspected evidence he was guilty at the least of misprision of treason. He seems to have had a thoroughly English heart; and not only a patriotic feeling for the independence of his country, but also many of the prevailing national prejudices against foreigners of all kinds, not excepting even the Scots. Our own impression is, that he contemplated nothing more than the reinstating of Mary, the sharing in her authority in Scotland, and in her hopes of the English succession on Elizabeth's death. As a man of honour (if we may speak of such a character in such a time), the worst part of his conduct was his breaking his word to Elizabeth; but even there he was goaded and maddened by her harsh usage, beset by agents ever ready to work on his susceptible temper, and fascinated by the letters and messages of Mary. the privy council do know it very well, but it is not meet here, in open presence, to be uttered, because it toucheth others that are not here now to be named; but, by her highness's order, we pray their lordships that they will impart it unto you more particularly. In Flanders, by the ambassador of a foreign prince, the whole plot of this treason was discovered; and a servant of his, not meaning to conceal so foul and dishonourable a practice, gave intelligence hither by letters. But I refer the more particular declaration thereof to the peers of the privy council." No objection was raised by any one to this strange declaration; on the contrary, they all acted as if it were decisive of the case, and at eight o'clock at night, when the trial had lasted twelve hours, the peers unanimously returned a verdict of guilty. Then the edge of the axe was turned towards the duke, and the lord-steward said "Thomas, Duke of Norfolk, the lords, your peers, having now found you guilty, what have you to say why I may not proceed to judgment?" The duke replied, "The Lord's will be done, and God be judge between me and mine accusers:" and then the lord high-steward, with tears in his eyes, pronounced judgment:-"Thomas, late Duke of Norfolk, you have been indicted of high treason, and my lords, your peers, have found you guilty: therefore, this court doth award that you be taken hence to the Tower of London, and from thence be drawn through the midst of London to Ty-days after his trial the duke wrote a long letter burn; and there you shall be hanged till you be half dead, and being alive you shall be cut down quick, your bowels shall be taken forth of your body, and burned before your face; your head shall be smitten off, and your body shall be divided into four quarters; your head and quarters to be set up where it shall please the queen's majesty to appoint: and the Lord have mercy upon your soul." Then the duke said, "This, my lord, is the judgment of a traitor; but (striking himself hard upon the breast) I am a true man to God and the queen as any that liveth, and always have been so.”1 We are not informed as to the countenance and behaviour of Leicester, who sat through the trial and voted the death of his confiding and generous-hearted victim. 2 The mode in which a case of constructive treason was made up will afford a curious exercise to the mind, and may be studied at length with some advantage. But, after all, it will not be easy to arrive at any clear notion of the extent of Norfolk's imprudence or guilt. That the Rudolfi conspiracy compassed and imagined the overthrow of Elizabeth in part by the aid of 1 Jardine, Criminal Trials; Burchley Papers, But, though thus condemned, Elizabeth hesitated to inflict capital punishment on so popular a nobleman, who was her own kinsman, and who had been for many years her tried friend. Five to her majesty, confessing that he had been undutiful, that he had most unkindly offended; but he still denied that he had ever contemplated treason. He told the queen that he was now but as "a dead dog" in this world, and preparing himself for a new kingdom-that he would not ask her for life, but only beseech her to extend her merciful goodness to his poor orphan children. Elizabeth insidiously urged him to make an ample confession, and accuse others: but this Norfolk nobly refused, even when pleading for his children. "The Lord knoweth," he says, "that I myself know no more than I have been charged withal, nor much of that, although, I humbly beseech God and your majesty to forgive me, I knew a great deal too much. But if it had pleased your highness, whilst I was a man in law, to have commanded my accusers to have been brought to my face, although of my own knowledge I knew no more than I have partienlarly confessed, yet, if it had pleased your majesty, there might perchance have bolted out somewhat amongst them which might have made somewhat for mine own purgation, and your highness perchance have thereby known that which is now undiscovered. . . . Now, an if it please your ma ... 2 See Mr. Jardine's remarks appended to his clear and valuable jesty, it is too late for me to come face to face to do you any service; the one being a shameless account of this remarkable trial. same place five and twenty years before." But the Protestants, whose wild alarms had not yet subsided, were eager for a still greater sacrifice, and they turned a ready ear to an anonymous casuist, who proved, in his own way, that it stood, not only with justice, but with the honour and safety of Elizabeth, to send the unfortunate Queen of Scots to the scaffold; and to another writer, who supported his arguments with numberless texts of Scripture, all made to prove that Mary had been delivered into the hands of Eli Scot, and the other an Italianified Englishman,' had it granted. One offering him a handkerchief their faces will be too brazen to yield to any to cover his eyes, he refused it, saying, "I am truth that I shall charge them with.” 2 This let not in the least afraid of death." He then fell on ter was written from the Tower on the 23d of his knees, praying, and presently he stretched his January. On Saturday, the 8th of February, neck across the block, and his head, at one blow, Elizabeth signed the warrant for the duke's exe- was cut off, and showed by the executioner to cution on the Monday following; but at a late the sorrowing and weeping multitude. "It is hour on Sunday night she summoned to her pre-incredible," continues Camden, a spectator of the sence the wily Burghley, who had been earnest sad scene, "how dearly he was loved by the with her to permit the law to take its course. people, whose good-will he had gained by a The queen, according to Burghley's own words, princely munificence and extraordinary affabili"now entered into a great misliking that the ty. They called likewise to mind the untimely duke should die the next day, and said she was, end of his father,' a man of extraordinary learnand should be, disquieted, and that she would|ing, and famous in war, who was beheaded in the have a new warrant made that very night to the sheriffs, to forbear until they should hear further; and so they did."3 Another warrant was countermanded in the same manner, and a third, obtained, as the queen gave out, by importunate counsel, on the 9th of April, was recalled with her own hand at two o'clock in the morning. She was evidently most anxious to lighten the odium of the execution, or to shift it from herself. The preachers, who had of late received regular political instructions from her council, took up the matter, and, unmindful of the evangelical for-zabeth by a special providence, and deserved to bearance, clamoured for vengeance on the duke. Private letters were written to the same effect to her majesty, but still she hesitated. In the meanwhile, parliament had assembled. On the 16th of May the commons communicated with the lords, and then drew up a petition to the throne, representing that there could be no safety till the duke was dead. The fanatic reasoning or declamation of the commons had a wonderful effect out of doors-every Protestant seemed to echo their call for blood; and at last Elizabeth put her hand to a death-warrant, which was not revoked. Out of regard to his high rank, the brutal punishment awarded by the sentence was commuted into beheading. On the 2d of June, 1572, at eight o'clock in the morning, the duke was brought to a scaffold erected upon Towerhill, attended by Alexander Nowel, dean of St. Paul's, and Fox, the martyrologist, who had formerly been his tutor. Dr. Nowel desired the multitude to keep silence; after which the duke made a dying speech, which was nearly always expected, if not forcibly exacted, on such occasions. He proceeded to confess neither more nor less than he had done on his trial; to aver that he had never been Popishly inclined, though some of his servants and acquaintance were addicted to the Romish religion. Then, after the reading of a psalm or two, he said, with a loud voice, "Lord Jesus, into thy hands I commend my spirit." The headsman asked the duke's forgiveness, and die the death, because she was guilty of adultery, murder, conspiracy, treason, and blasphemy, and because she was an idolater, and led others to idolatry. Both houses would have proceeded against the captive by bill of attainder, but Elizabeth interfered, and they were obliged to rest satisfied with passing a law to make her unable and unworthy of succession to the crown of England.' The captive queen had been restored to her old prison in Tutbury Castle immediately after the defeat of the Earl of Northumberland, and, after some hurried removes to Chatsworth and other places, she was now at Sheffield Castle, in the tender keeping of Sir Ralph Sadler and my Lady Shrewsbury, who both wished her in her grave, and seized the opportunity afforded by the trial and condemnation of Norfolk to exult over her sufferings, and insult her to her face. But Mary had soon to weep for more blood. The Earl of Northumberland, after lying more than two years a prisoner in Lochleven Castle, was basely sold to Elizabeth by the execrable Morton, who, during his own exile in England, had tasted largely of the northern earl's hospitality and generosity. This transaction was the finishing touch to the character of the murderer A Camden. 5 The accomplished Earl of Surrey, the last noble victim of 6 D'Eures. Elizabeth's father. 7 Burghley was disappointed and angry that Elizabeth did not now send Mary to the block. In a letter dated 21st May. 1572, addressed to Walsingham, who was at Paris, he says that there was "soundness in the commons, and "no lack" higher house, but the queen had spoiled all.-Dudley Digges. in the |