Bacon's Dictionary
Appendices
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20
21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40
41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56
57 58 59
The exhibits and miniatures of which are found in this section, are designed to assist the serious student and reader in following the path of the Authorship Controvesy that has been so laboriously persued by many authors and researchers during its commence.
These exhibits have been placed here as not to interrupt the flow of reading in the Baconian Dictionary sections, being a finding list of Bacon’s works, his history, his thoughts and his aims, which are a subject of study and discussion.
Castle of Kenilworth
There is little doubt that Francis Bacon was present with the Court at the entertainment of the Queen at Kenilworth Castle, August 1572 and in July 1575. There are two accounts of The Princely Pleasure of Kenilworth obviously from the same hand, by some person who signs himself Laneham and Geo. Gascoign. The descriptions are replete with the exuberance of youth. The writer is a poet, full of the joy of life, with an extensive vocabulary and imaginative wit.
Laneham 1 was possessed of inside information and he could not have been an ordinary outsider. The little descriptive booklet was suppressed on the instructions of the Master of Requests, whose agent, W. Patten, writes to Lord Burleigh that “with the exception of six copies to Mr. Wilson, two to his Lordship and the Lord Keeper Bacon, I have not let more than three copies pass.” So we know the Laneham book was thus brought directly into relation with the Bacon Circle.
One of the scenes in the Kenilworth Pageant is described in Midsummer Night’s Dream. These descriptions are so akin, even the “Melody of the Seven-sorted Music of the Dolphin,” that Shakespeare must have known of the suppressed book. The commentators are virtually agreed that the author of the plays must have seen the revels and devices at Kenilworth to have written the passage in the Dream, that he and Laneham were one and the same or that he had read his book. 2 There is not the slightest evidence that the actor of Stratford saw the Kenilworth revels at the age of eleven, but Francis Bacon, as one of the inner circle, is certain to have been present. And if we take the hint of Lean Ham 3 as the cover name for Bacon, there is at least a strong presumption that the young Francis was present, wrote the description anonymously, and thus early embarked on a career of concealed authorship. Such scenes of splendour would necessarily quicken the imagination necessary to dramatic invention. Mr. Furnivall, who was editor to the modern edition in 1907 of LeanHam’s account, says: “The Letter is written by one London mercer, Robert Laneham, to another, Master Humfrey Martin, and describes the visit of Queen Elizabeth to her favourite, and Laneham’s patron, the Earl of Leicester, at Kenilworth Castle for nineteen days, from Saturday the 9th to Wednesday July 27, 1575. The castle itself, its grounds and appointments, the pageants presented before the Queen, as well as an ancient minstrel with a solemn song, prepared for her, but not shown to her (pp. 36–42), are all described by Laneham with great gusto; but he has unluckily left out the last week of the fun, as he took such slender notes of what went on (p. 43). Laneham is a most amusing, self-satisfied, rollicking chap. He tells us his history; that he went to school both at St. Paul’s (Colet’s school) and St. Anthony’s [where Whitgift was, tutor to Francis Bacon at Trinity College], was in the fifth form, got through Aesop’s Fables, read Terence, and began Virgil, then served Master Bomsted a Mercer in London, then traded in sundry countries among others, “in Frauns and Flaunders long and many a day” (p. 1) and so got languages, which helped his Latin (p. 61). Leicester took him up, for his ready tongue and merry ways, no doubt, as well as his knowledge of Langagez gave him apparel, even from his own back, got him allowance in the stable, got him made Doorkeeper of the Council Chamber, helped him in his license to import beans duty free, and let his father serve the stable, that is, as I suppose, supply it with grain and fodder, so that our worthy says, “I go now in my silks, that else might ruffle in my cut canves [or poor men’s clothes]: I ride now a horse’s back, that else many times might manage it a foot: am known to their honours, and taken forth with the best, that else might be bidden to stand back myself.” (p. 57). Laneham tells us besides how he spent his days at Kenilworth; and in this account, pages 58-61, the full character of the man comes out in a most amusing way. The reader should turn at once to the passages, and enjoy them: the “jolly and dry a mornings,” the being “by and by in the bones of any listener, or prier, the seating his friends, but “let the rest walk, a god’s name”; his airing his languages before the foreigners, being, “in afternoons and a nights, always among the Gentlewomen,” showing off before company, dancing, playing, singing, making eyes and sighs at Mistress, whose name he won’t tell, being able to “gratify the matters as well as the proudest of them,” give us the very man. Stories I delight in,” says he (p. 61); Music he loves: “take ye this by the way, that for the small sky in music that God hath sent me, (yee know it is somewhat) ill set the more by myself while my name is Laneham and grace a god. Ah music is a noble Art.” (p. 35). His patron Leicester was perfection in his eyes (pp. 56–8), and Kenilworth nearly Paradise (p. 48–53). He enjoyed the beautiful country round him (p. 2–3), revelled in all the show and bustle about him, delighted in the conceits of the pageants, rejoiced in the stag-hunts (p. 13–16) thought the bear baiting fine sport (p. 16–18), threw himself into the rough fun of the country bride-ale and Coventry play (p. 20–26), quizzed the performers (p. 22–24), took often the old minstrel (p. 40), drank lots of good ale and wine (p. 8–45), eat to his fill (p. 59); and in the best of spirits with everything about him, and especially with himself, the excellent Robert Laneham, Gent., wrote this Letterabout the whole affair to his friend Master Martin, one of the jovial set they both belonged to in London. No doubt if there’d been a Superfine Review in his day, it would have called him a coxcomb, reproved him for his vulgarity, and perchance written an article on his females, as its present representative has on our workingmen’s wives and daughters in their holiday-excursions. For my part, I am content to take Robert Laneham and enjoy him as he is; and I only wish that twenty others like him had left us such genuine pictures of the country life and sports of Elizabeth’s time. As for his writing so much about himself, I only wish my contemporaries would follow his example, and believe that posterity will enjoy what they write, as much as we do like bits in the writings of our predecessors. Let men be themselvesin their writings, and let critics, and “un-unsuited-to-the-dignity-of-print,” etcetera, be blowed.”
Mr. Pettigrew, in his inquiry into the particulars connected with the death of Amy Robsart, thus aptly quotes from Dryden: “We find but few historians, of all ages, who have been diligent enough in their search for truth; it is their common method to take on trust what they distribute to the public, by which means a falsehood once received from a famed writer becomes traditional to posterity.” Amy Robsart never was Countess of Leicester, inasmuch as her husband was not created an Earl till three years after her death, nor did she appear at the Kenilworth revels, for the reason that that splendid castle was not possessed by her husband till he became an Earl, and the Kenilworth revels did not take place till fifteen years after her death. Nor was her marriage with Lord Robert Dudley kept secret, as related by Scott; on the contrary, her marriage was publicly solemnized in the presence of the youthful King Edward VI., and the incidents connected with the event were noted down by him in his diary, the original of which, among other numerous relics of the past, is to be found stored in the manuscript department of the British Museum. It is much to be regretted that Sir Walter Scott should, in professing to write a historical romance, have so seriously perverted historical facts. If, as probably was the case, he conceived the idea that a secret marriage would add to the interest of his work, he might have chosen an actual, instead of a supposed, secret marriage, as the former did exist at the period of Elizabeth’s visit to Kenilworth.
In 1573, thirteen years after the death of Lady Amy Dudley, and two years previous to the Kenilworth revels, Leicester had privately married Douglas Howard, Lady Sheffield, which marriage was kept a profound secret. In 1574 a son was born as the fruit of that marriage, and in the year following (1575) Elizabeth made her celebrated visit to Kenilworth. This, therefore, might have formed a real and legitimate plea for Sir Walter to have worked up his secret marriage, without sacrificing to the object he had in view the memory of poor Amye, who had been in her grave for fifteen years. Dr. Beattie, in his Castles of England, 4 tells us that “The romance of Kenilworth, it is probable, has brought within the last [forty] years more pilgrims to this town and neighbourhood pilgrims of the highest rank than ever resorted to its ancient shrine of the virgin, more knights and dames than ever figured in its tilts and tournaments.” Moreover, how parallel would this be that fits like a glove upon Stratford, and poor Shaksper the actor? It is, perhaps, not too much to say that the mystery connected with the death of Amy Robsart will probably never be cleared up. Conjectures only may be started. The coroner’s inquest, that was assembled immediately after her decease, failed to elicit more than that she met with an untimely death, by some “mischaunce;” further, that inquest did not succeed in unravelling the mystery, though every effort appears to have been then made. There was no undue haste, nor does there appear to have been any undue influence exercised to bias or to thwart the investigation.
Till within a few years past we have been left in entire ignorance on the subject, nothing but the scurrilous reports promulgated by the most “virulent and pestilent book” ever written, under the title of Leycester’s Commonwealth, supplying all the information, in the shape of atrocious falsehoods, that authors and writers have subsequently availed themselves of so freely in their attacks on the character of Leicester. Written by the noted Jesuit Parsons, who, in connection with the still more notorious Edward Campion, was constantly prowling about in search of means to subvert the Protestant faith, and to create all the mischief he could in the endeavour to restore the powers that had been driven out. Parsons’ book was not published till twenty-four years after the occurrences took place, which it so minutely describes, fresh as if they had occurred within the day or year of its publication. Instead of going immediately to Cumnor to inquire into the circumstances connected with Amy’s death, Leicester coolly writes to his Cousin Blount, and requests him to make the investigation. Instead of paying the least regard to her remains by attending the funeral, he deputes that duty to others, and contents himself at the Court in attendance upon the Queen. First he writes from Windsor, the day following the death of his wife; three days afterwards from Kew, where he had a mansion, given to him by the Queen, and which was probably his domicile, while his wife was staying at Cumnor under the charge or care of Sir Anthony Foster. That she had been living in great distress of mind may be inferred from the tenor of her letter to Mr. Flowerdew, the only letter of hers known to have been preserved. The Kenilworth romance was taken from Scott’s romance of Kenilworth, forming a striking illustration of the ill effects produced by the perversion of historical truth perpetuating the historical untruths contained in that work and misleading the public mind in what might otherwise have proved a highly interesting illustration of history. The opinion, which she expressed to the French Ambassador Castelnau, “That Leicester was the most virtuous, and perfect man that she knew”, may be founded in error, but she added, in the consciousness of her dignity, “Yet she would never marry him”. (Von Raumer). 5
Amy Robsart was the daughter of Sir John Robsart, of Siderstern, in the county of Norfolk, the manor of which came into possession of his family by the marriage of his father, Sir Theodorick Robsart, with the daughter and heiress of Sir Thomas Kerdeston, of Syderstern, in Norfolk. Amy is mentioned by all writers as being the heiress of her father, and no mention made of any other children. She had, however, a brother, who was illegitimate, named Arthur Robsart, and two half-brothers, John and Philip Appleyard, as well as two half-sisters, Anne and Frances Appleyard, all of whom, it is presumed, were living in 1560, two of them in that year attending the coroner’s inquest on the death of Amy. Leicester, in his letter to Blount, 6 says, “I have sent for my brother Appleyard, because he is her brother.” Her mother was Elizabeth, daughter of John Scott, Esq., of Camberwell, in the county of Surrey; and though the fact is not mentioned by any writer, she had previously been married to Roger Appleyard, Esq., Lord of the manor of Stanfield or Stanfield Hall, in the county of Norfolk, who in 1528 left the manor to “Elizabeth” his wife, for life, and then to John Appleyard, his son and heir, who held it in 1549. 7 The marriage of Amy with Leicester took place at Sheen [Richmond], on June 4, 1550, with great splendour, in the presence of Edward VI., who has recorded the fact in his journal, in his own handwriting, still preserved in the British Museum, 8 to the following effect:
1550. June 4. Sir Robert Dudley, third [surviving] son to the Earl of Warwick, married Sir John Robsart’s daughter, after which marriage there were certain gentlemen that did strive who should first take away a goose’s head, which was hanged alive on two cross posts.
Leicester was born June 24, 1532 or 1533. The date of his birth is not given by any historian; in one of his letters to Queen Elizabeth, in which he says, “This is my birthday.” Amy Robsart, it is presumed, was born in 1532, so that they were nearly of the same age. We have no account as to where they took up their residence on their marriage. In 1558, Leicester sends the following letter addressed to John Flowerdew, 9 who it is presumed was his steward or agent:
Good Mr. Flowerdew,
I do most heartily thank you for your pains and travail you have taken for me, as well touching the matter of Flitcham, as other mine affairs at Sidesterne. For the first, I would very gladly proceed therein, having it so as to be no loser by such rates as might be too over high set. For that, as I said before, I shall refer unto you, in thinking the prices too unreasonable, I must, if to dwell in that country, take some house other than mine own, for it were wanteth all such chief commodities as a house requireth, which is, pasture, wood, water, &c. To this I understand there is most of that the other wants, and besides it standeth somewhat nigh that little I have there. And where your care is so great for me in looking for my commodity herein, that you would have more advice than your own, for your contentation (though both your skill will suffice for a much greater matter than this, and my trust would not refuse that you should do in a greater matter also), I have required my brother Bige [Bigot] 10 to take pains with you, and what order you take as well for the rent and prices, as for the year, I will accept and agree unto.
Praying you that if you conclude that I may have a full certificate that the ground is, what the stock is upon it already and what number of cattle, you judge it may keep. And hearing hereof from you both, God willing, I will immediately come down to see it myself, and to take further order by your advices for my coming thither.
I understand also that there is stuff or furniture in the house, which the executors will depart with all; I pray you I may have some little inventory what it is, and how they will leave it, and I will send word again what I will do. If it be good and worth the prices, I would not refuse it. For Sidestern, first for the fold-course [sheep-pens] at Boxford, I do mind to store and lay it myself, praying you to give your order for it; and for all things else that is out of order, pray you to redress it at your discretion, as well [as] for placing or displacing such servants or shepherds as be unmet to have charge there, even in such sort as any way I would or should do myself.
And think myself much beholding and greatly in your debt, for the friendship you have divers ways showed me. And so with my hearty commendations, and ready to do you all the pleasure I may, I bid you farewell. From Hays, this Friday morning.
Yours assured, R. Duddeley.
Saint Madeleine’s day 11
Addressed to my very friend, John Flowerdew, Esq., with speed.
No letter exists from Leicester having reference to the Robsart estates, or in any way connected with Amy Robsart, but we have a letter from the latter, and the only letter of hers that has been discovered. It is preserved among the Harleian MSS., 12 in the British Museum, written “from Mr. Hyde’s”, and presumed to have been in 1559. It is addressed to Mr. Flowerdew the elder, the same person to whom Leicester’s letter is addressed, in reference to the estate at Flitcham:
1 “If we take the last syllable of the name as an open hint, “Ham,” we may not be far wrong in assuming the identity of the writer as Bacon, for is not Bacon, “Ham?” And if we remember that the word “lean” was sounded like the first syllable “Lane” we get the anonymous letter writer jesting at the name of Bacon. He is a “Lean Ham,” i.e., Laneham. This idea of laying with words to convey other meanings was quite characteristic of Francis Bacon’s humour. Ordinarly, it would seem to be very far-fetched, but these diamond words appear as punning in Shakespeare; and the very word “Ham,” with other words such as PIG, SOW, SHOAT, are given repeatedly in the Initial Captials of the Shakespeare Text usually with a message that the author is playing with his name and wants the reader to know that his real name is “Bacon.” We must remember that Ben Jonson records that Francis Bacon could not let an opportunity pass for making or cracking a joke.” Alfred Dodd. Francis Bacon’s Personal Life Story, 1930
2 It should be remembered that the booklet was suppressed and only thirteen in total copies were circulated
3 “Laneham is said to be a youth of fourteen whom the Kenilworth Revels were held in 1575. This was the age of Francis Bacon. Who Laneham was no one knows.” Alfred Dodd. Francis Bacon’s Personal Life Story, 1930
4 Imperial 8vo, London, 1812
5 Von Raumer. Political History of England, during the 16th and 17th Centuries, translated by Lloyd. 8vo, London, 1837, Vol. I, pp. 194-6
6 Pepysian Library at Cambridge
7 Bloomfield’s Norfolk, fol., Vol. III., p. 851
8 Cottonian MSS., Nero CX. British Museum
9 Harleian MSS., British Museum, 4712
10 James Bigot, the first husband of Anna Appleyard, half-sister to Amy Robsart
11 Saint Magdalen’s day, Friday, July 22, 1558
12 Harleian MSS., British Museum, 4712
Mr. Flowerdew,
I understand by Gryse that you put him in remembrance of that you spake to me of, concerning the going of certain sheep at Siderstern; and although I forgot to move my Lord thereof before his departing, he being sore troubled with weighty affairs, and I not being altogether in quiet for his sudden departing, yet, notwithstanding, knowing your accustomed friendship towards my Lord and me, I neither may nor can deny you that request, in my Lord’s absence, of mine own authority, yea and [if] it were a greater matter, as if any good occasion may serve you to try me; desiring you further that you will make sale of the wool so soon as is possible, although you sell it for VI., the stone, or as you would sell for yourself; for my Lord so justly required me, at his departing, to see those poor men satisfied, as though it had been a matter depending upon life; wherefore I force not to sustain a little loss thereby to satisfy my Lord’s desire, and so to send that money to Gryse’s house to London, by Bridewell, to whom my Lord hath given order for the payment thereof.
And thus I end, always troubling you, wishing that occasion may serve me to requite you, until that time I must pay you with thanks; and so to God I leave you.
From Mr. Hyde’s, this 6 of August,
Your assured, during life,
Amye Duddley.
(Superscription.)
To my very friend, Mr. Flowerdew the elder, give this. Norfolk.
The letter has no date to it, but from its contents it was probably written in 1559. “Mr. Hyde’s,” as whose house Amy appears to have been staying when her letter was written, was in all probability William Hyde, son of William Hyde and Margery, daughter of John Cater, Esq., of Denchworth. It was said that Amy lived unhappily with Leicester, her husband, but we have no clue to her private history beyond what is contained in the above letter.
Queen Elizabeth ascended the throne on the November 17, 1558 and Leicester was sworn of the Privy Council on June 4, 1559 two months previous to the date of Amy’s letter. We hear nothing further of her till we find her residing at Cumnor, at the house of Anthony Forster, who was at that time tenant, but afterwards Lord of the manor, and who was considered “a very amiable man, very learned, a great musician, builder, and planter.” 13 The Ballad of Cumnor Hall, which, it is said, first suggested to Sir Walter Scott to write the romance of Kenilworth, was the work of William Julius Mickle, who died in 1788. It was first printed in Evans’ Collection of Old Ballads, in 1784, with the antique spelling of Queen Elizabeth’s period. In a subsequent edition of this interesting work, in 1810, the poem was modernised. The death of Amy occurred on Sunday, September 8, 1560 at Cumnor, under circumstances certainly of some suspicion. Without, however, giving credence to the various libels that appeared against Lord Robert Dudley, his own letters, which we now give, written upon that occasion to his cousin Blount (contemporary copies of which are still preserved in the Pepysian Library at Cambridge), serve very strongly to show that he at least manifested but very little feeling at the loss of his wife. The first letter, it will be seen, is from Windsor, the day after her death. On September 9, when Leicester was in attendance on the Queen at Windsor, a messenger arrived from Cumnor with a letter containing the intelligence of the death of his wife on the previous day by a fall down some stairs; and although it may be gleaned from the ensuing correspondence that Bowes, the messenger, was attached to the household at the mansion of Cumnor Place, where the disastrous occurrence had taken place, he was unable to give very little, if any, account of how it happened, being in all probability absent with the rest of the servants at the fair at Abingdon. Leicester’s first impression on receipt of the news appears to have been most remarkable and mysterious; he at once expressed an opinion that her death had not been the result of an accident, but of violence, and that he should be accused of being implicated in her destruction. The most reasonable explanation of these expressions that can be suggested, consistent with a perfectly guiltless conscience, seems to be that he must have at once perceived that so unlooked for an event, occurring in so extraordinary a manner, would give his enemies the opportunity of asserting that his wife had been murdered, and that, notwithstanding his absence from the scene, they would charge him with being the originator of the plot; and he could not but have felt that his past estrangement from her would be held up as a ground of suspicion, and would be generally interpreted as a strong presumption of guilt. His conduct also, as well as his expressions, exposes him to invidious remarks, and may be by the prejudiced regarded as additional evidence in proof of the grave charge that has been so strongly urged against him. One would have thought that he would at once have started for the scene of his bereavement, and have satisfied himself whether there were any grounds to support his suspicions; but, apprehensive of crimination from his wife’s relations, he immediately despatches the news to them in Norfolk, that they might be present at the coroner’s inquiry, which he knew to be inevitable, to satisfy themselves as to the true cause and manner of her death; and he then sits down and writes a letter of instructions on the subject to a gentleman in his confidence named Blount. Such a course of proceeding on the part of Leicester, coupled with his expressions, do not at first sight seem altogether consistent with a complete state of innocence; but his subsequent conduct, in promoting the inquiry before the coroner, tends greatly to relieve the distrust that otherwise would be felt, and must be properly weighed in arriving at an impartial conclusion of his guilt or innocence; indeed, it would be the extreme of prejudice to insinuate that there is anything in the ensuing correspondence that betrays an attempt on his part to conceal a crime or to baffle investigation. The following letter is the first that passed between Leicester and Blount, pending the coroner’s inquest at Cumnor:
Cousin Blount,
Immediately upon your departing from me there came to me Bowes, by whom I do understand that my wife is dead, and, as he saith, by a fall from a pair of stairs. Little other understanding can I have of him. The greatness and the suddenness of the misfortune doth so perplex me, until I do hear from you how the matter standeth, or how this evil should light upon me, considering what the malicious world will bruit, as I can take no rest. And, because I have no way to purge myself of the malicious talk that I know the wicked world will use, but one which is the very plain truth to be knowen, I do pray you, as you have loved me, and do tender me and my quietness, and as now my special trust is in you, that [you] will use all the devises and means you can possible for the learning of the troth; wherein have no respect to any living person.
And, as by your own travail and diligence, so likewise by order of law, I mean by calling of the Coroner, and charging him to the uttermost from me to have good regard to make choice of no light or slight persons, but the discretess and [most] substantial men, for the juries, such as for their knowledge may be able to search thoroughly and duly, by all manner of examinations, the bottom of the matter, and for their uprightness will earnestly and sincerely deal therein without respect; and that the body be viewed and searched accordingly by them; and in every respect to proceed by order and law.
In the mean time, Cousin Blount, let me be advertised from you by this bearer with all speed how the matter doth stand. For, as the cause and the manner thereof doth marvellously trouble me, considering my case, many ways, so shall I not be at rest till I may be ascertained thereof; praying you, even as my trust is in you, and as I have ever loved you, do not dissemble with me, neither let anything be hid from me, but send me your true conceit and opinion of the matter, whether it happened by evil chance or by villany. And fail not to let me hear continually from you.
And thus fare you well in much haste; from Windsor, this 9 of September in the evening [1560].
Your loving friend and kinsman, much perplexed,
R. D.
I have sent for my brother Appleyard, because he is her brother, and other of her friends also to be there, that they may be privy and see how all things do proceed.
From this letter, and the reply of Blount, it may be inferred that the latter had left Leicester at Windsor on September 9 for the purpose of proceeding to Cumnor, but that previously to his arriving at Abingdon, which lay in his route, he met with Bowes on his way to Windsor with the above news, and from him learnt what had happened to Amy. Bowes, it would seem, informed Blount all that he knew of the circumstances, and also that when it occurred all the domestics belonging to the establishment were absent at Abingdon Fair. It is somewhat strange that Blount, on being apprised of Amy’s death, should, like Leicester, have felt distrust of fair means having been used towards her; and his manner is in some degree open to suspicion; inasmuch as he did not, upon hearing the disastrous intelligence, hasten on to Cumnor, or immediately return to Windsor, to consult or take fresh instructions from Leicester. He however continued on his journey as far as Abingdon, where he stayed the night at an Inn, for the avowed but somewhat singular purpose of ascertaining the particulars relating to the catastrophe and the public feeling in the neighbourhood touching the cause. The better to accomplish this end he dissembles with the landlord, with whom he manifestly assumes to be unconscious of what had taken place, and leads him to believe that he is merely passing the night at his house, on his road into Gloucestershire, and while at supper sends for him to learn if there was any news stirring. As a matter of course, the all-engrossing topic of conversation, the death of Lady Dudley, is communicated, and he then proceeds to inquire how she had come by the fall; to which the landlord replied he knew not. Dissatisfied with this answer, Blount asked what was his judgment and the judgment of his people; when the landlord, attempting an evasion of the question, replied, that some were disposed to say well, and some evil. This, however, was by no means satisfactory to Blount, who was bent upon extracting from his host more than he appeared willing to disclose, and whom he supposed, like the rest of his fraternity, to be more conversant with the tales and rumours of the locality than the generality of the public, a country Inn in those days being the place where all the news that was abroad was sure to be discussed and propagated; he therefore presses the landlord more closely for his opinion. “By my troth,” said he, “I judge it a very misfortune, because it chanced at that honest gentleman’s [Forster’s] house, his great honesty doth much cut the evil thoughts of the people.” This remark in a measure appeased Blount, who, still pretending entire ignorance of everything connected with the sad affair, proceeded to interrogate his companion as to what explanation the domestics of the mansion gave of the matter, and was told that they were not at home at the time, but at Abingdon Fair. Upon this Blount proceeded to catechise the landlord as to how that chanced, and elicits in answer that, “it is said how that she rose very early, and commanded all her sort to go to the fair, and would suffer none to tarry at home, and thereof much is judged.” It may here be remarked, that, previously to this conversation, Blount could not have received the above letter from Leicester, which was dispatched to him by a person of the name of Bristo, who, in all probability, delivered it to Blount on the next day, the 10th, after he had arrived at Cumnor, and it is therefore beyond a doubt that the suspicions that presented themselves in the minds both of Leicester and Blount on hearing her Ladyship was dead, were also rife in the vicinity of Cumnor before either the one or the other were made acquainted with the fact of her decease.
The proceedings of Blount on reaching the scene of the calamity do not appear to have been characterised by any remarkable incident. He finds some of the jury already assembled at the house, and to them he communicates Leicester’s wishes, and the directions he had received from him with reference to the inquiry about to be entered on, and he then sets about investigating the matter. He at once discovers that it is surrounded with such suspicious circumstances, and is so enveloped in mystery, that, to use his own language, “it passeth the judgment of any man to say how it is.” But the details of Blount’s proceedings are more fully disclosed in his own letter to Dudley, which was written from Cumnor on the day after his arrival there, and is as follows:
May it please your Lordship to understand that I have received your letter by Bristo, the contents whereof I do well perceive; and that your Lordship was advertised by Bowes upon my departing that my Lady was dead; and also your strait charge given unto me that I should use all the devises and policies that I can for the true understanding of the matter, as well by mine own travail as by the order of law, as in calling the Coroner, giving him charge that he choose a discreet and substantial jury for the view of the body and that no corruption should be used or person respected.
Your Lordship’s great reasons that maketh you so earnestly search to learn the troth, the same, with your earnest commandment, doth make me to do my best therein. The present advertisement I can give to your Lordship at this time is, too true it is that my Lady is dead, and, as it seemeth, with a fall; but yet how or which way I cannot learn.
Your Lordship shall hear the manner of my proceeding since I came from you. The same night I came from Windsor I lay at Abingdon all that night; and, because I was desirous to hear what news went abroad in the country, at my supper I called for mine host, and asked him what news was thereabout, taking upon me I was going into Gloucestershire. He said, there was fallen a great misfortune within three or four miles of the town; he said, my Lord Robert Dudley’s wife was dead; and I axed how; and he said, by a misfortune, as he heard, by a fall from a pair of stairs; I asked him by what chance; he said, he knew not: I axed him what was his judgment, and the judgment of the people; he said, some were disposed to say well, and some evil. What is your judgment? Said I. By my troth, said he, I judge it a misfortune because it chanced in that honest gentleman’s house; his great honesty, said he, doth much curb the evil thoughts of the people.
Methinks, said I, that some of her people that waited upon her should somewhat say to this. No sir, said he, but little; for it was said that they were all here at the fair, and none left with her. How might that chance? Said I. Then said he, It is said how that she rose that day very early, and commanded all her sort to go [to] the fair, and would suffer none to tarry at home; and thereof is much judged.
And truly, my Lord, I did first learn of Bowes, as I met with him coming towards your Lordship, of his own being that day and of all the rest of their being, who affirmed that she would not that day suffer one of her own sort to tarry at home, and was so earnest to have them gone to the fair, that with any of her own sort that made reason of tarrying at home she was very angry, and came to Mrs. Odingsells [?], 14 the widow that liveth with Anthony Forster, who refused that day to go to the fair, and was very angry with her also, because she said it was no day for gentlewomen to go in, but said the morrow was much better, and then she would go.
Whereunto my Lady answered and said that she might choose and go at her pleasure, but all hers should go; and was very angry. They asked who should keep her company if all they went. She said Mrs. Owen 15 should keep her company at dinner. The same tale doth Pirto [?], who doth dearly love her, confirm. Certainly, my Lord, as little while as I have been here, I have heard divers tales of her that maketh me to judge her to be a strange woman of mind. In asking of Pirto what she might think of this matter, either chance or villany, she said by her faith she doth judge very chance, and neither done by man nor by herself. For herself, she said, she was a good virtuous gentlewoman, and daily would pray upon her knees; and divers times she saith that she hath heard her pray to God to deliver her from desperation. Then, said I, she might have an evil toy (?) in her mind. No, good Mr. Blount, said Pirto, do not judge so of my words; if you should so gather, I am sorry I said so much.
My Lord, it is most strange that this chance should fall upon you. It passeth the judgment of any man to say how it is; but truly the tales I do hear of her maketh me to think she had a strange mind in her; as I will tell you at my coming. But to the inquest you would have so very circumspectly chosen by the Coroner for the understanding of the troth, your Lordship needeth not to doubt of their well choosing. Before my coming the most were chosen, and part of them at the house. If I be able to judge of men and of their ableness, I judge them, and specially some of them, to be as wise and as able men to be chosen upon such a matter as any men, being but countrymen, as ever I saw, and as well able to answer to their doing before whosoever they shall be called.
And for their true search, without respect of person, I have done your message unto them. I have good hope they will conceal no fault, if any be; for, as they are wise, so are they, as I hear part of them, very enemies to Anthony Forster. God give them, with their wisdom, indifferency, and then be they well chosen men.
More advertisement, at this time, I cannot give your Lordship; but as I can learn so will I advertise, wishing your Lordship to put away sorrow, and rejoice, whatsoever fall out, of your own innocency; by the which in time, doubt not but that malicious reports shall turn upon their backs that can be glad to wish or say against you.
And thus I humbly take my leave; from Cumnor, the 11th of September.
Your Lordship’s life and loving,
T. B.
Your Lordship hath done very well in sending for Mr. Appleyard.
By this letter it is certain, that the chief ground of suspicion rested upon the fact, that at the time of the fall, both Amy’s and Forster’s servants were away at the fair, which it so happened this year fell on a Sunday. The truth of the very remarkable assertion of Amy being angry with Mrs. Odingsells (who, it must be borne in mind, was a Lady of family and station), because she declined to go to the fair, and of her not suffering one of her own attendants to remain at home, was most likely proved to the jury as an explanation of the cause of so few being at Cumnor Place when the fatal fall took place. Forster’s absence is not alluded to, and therefore it may be supposed that he was at home at the time, and probably the only male person in the house, and that from these untoward circumstances, and the very singular manner of her death, the suspicions against him arose. There is a passage in Blount’s letter highly favourable to Forster, as it diminishes the probability of his having been accessory to the death of Amy. For in the conversation recounted to have passed between Amy and Mrs. Odingsells, the former states, that if Mrs. Odingsells should be absent, Mrs. Owen would be her companion at dinner. This Lady may most reasonably be concluded to have been the wife of Mr. Owen, then proprietor of Cumnor. And so it would appear that both Mrs. Odingsells and Mrs. Owen were staying in the house, and that they were there when Amy met with her death. Under such circumstances, it is hardly possible to conceive, that Forster would have attempted so atrocious a crime under his own roof; and it would be most improbable to suppose that he could have secured the connivance of these two Ladies, even if he had induced all the servants purposely to absent themselves. Moreover, it appears that it was Amy, and not Forster, that insisted on the visit of the servants to Abingdon Fair. Blount’s letter reaches Leicester, who had in the mean time gone to Kew, and causes him very great uneasiness. His apprehension that his wife had been murdered, and that he should be considered privy to the act, appears, if anything, increased by this communication. Upon receipt of it he again writes to his friend and emissary, urging him to repeat to the jury his earnest desire that they should, without either fear or favour, proceed in the most rigid manner with the investigation. The following is the letter:
13 From his epitaph in Cumnor Church
14 Sister of Oliver Hyde and of William Hyde, at whose house Amy’s letter was written
15 Wife of George Owen, Physician to Henry VIII., and owner of Cumnor Place
Cousin Blount,
Until I hear from you again how the matter falleth out in very troth, I cannot be in quiet; and yet you do well to satisfy me with the discreet jury you say are chosen already: unto whom I pray you say from me, that I require them, as ever as I shall think good of them, that they will, according to their duties, earnestly, carefully, and truly deal in this matter, and find it as they shall see it fall out; and, if it fall out a chance or misfortune, then so to say; and, if it appear a villainy as God forbid so mischievous or wicked a body should live, then to find it so.
And, God willing, I have never fear [of] the due prosecution accordingly, what person soever it may appear any way to touch; as well for the just punishment of the act as for mine own true justification; for, as I would be sorry in my heart any such evil should be committed, so shall it well appear to the world my innocency by my dealing in the matter, if it shall so fall out.
And therefore, Cousin Blount, I seek chiefly troth in this case, which I pray you still to have regard unto, without any favour to be showed either one way or other. When you have done my message to them, I require you not to stay to search thoroughly yourself all ways that I may be satisfied. And that with such convenient speed as you may.
Thus fare you well, in haste; at Kew, 16 this 12th day of September.
Yours assured,
R. D.
Again, Blount conveys to the jury Leicester’s commands, and as the inquiry advanced it is unquestionable that there was a suspicion of Amy having been murdered, and of Forster being implicated in the crime. Blount appears faithfully to discharge his trust, and he resorts to every means he can conceive likely to ascertain the true facts; he endeavours secretly to discover the feeling of the jury, but is unsuccessful; and after remaining at Cumnor three days, he professes not to be able to regard Amy’s death otherwise than as an accident. He insinuates that some of the jury appeared to be quite desirous of criminating Forster if they could; and considers their not being able to prove anything against him, ought to produce a conviction that there were no grounds to consider it an act of violence. Blount’s next communication is as under:
I have done your Lordship’s message unto the jury. You need not to bid them to be careful: whether equity of the cause or malice to Forster do forbid (?) it, I know not, they take great pains to learn the troth. To-morrow I will wait upon your Lordship; and, as I come, I will break my fast at Abingdon; and there I shall meet with one or two of the jury; and what I can I will bring. They be very secret; and yet do I hear a whispering that they can find no presumptions of evil. And if I may say to your Lordship my conscience, I think some of them may be sorry for it, God forgive me. And, if I judge aright, mine own opinion is much quieted; the more I search of it, the more free it doth appear unto me. I have almost nothing that can make me so much to think that any man should be the doer thereof as, when I think your Lordship’s wife before all other women should have such a chance, the circumstances and as many things as I can learn doth persuade me that only misfortune hath done it, and nothing else. Myself will wait upon your Lordship to-morrow, and say what I know.
In the meantime I humbly take leave; from Cumnor, the 13th of September.
Your Lordship’s life and loving [?],
T. B.
It would seem before the receipt of the last letter, the foreman of the jury had written to Leicester, apprising him that his wife’s death did appear plainly to have been caused by an accident, but it is evident that at the time the letter was penned, a verdict to that effect had not been returned. The receipt of such a communication under such circumstances will by some be suspiciously regarded; both on the part of Leicester and the foreman. This letter, however, seems in a great measure to have relieved his anxiety; nevertheless he does not abate in his expressions of eagerness to sift the transaction, and to push the inquiry to the utmost possible limit. He requests that another gentleman, Sir Richard Blount, and also Mr. Norris, will assist in furtherance of the investigation. His intimation to this effect is conveyed to his friend Thomas Blount at Cumnor, in the following letter:
I have received a letter from one Smith, one that seemeth to be the foreman of the jury. I perceive by his letters that he and the rest have and do travail very diligently and circumspectly for the trial of the matter which they have charge of, and for anything that he or they by any search or examination can make in the world hitherto, it doth plainly appear, he saith, a very misfortune; which, for mine own part, Cousin Blount, doth much satisfy and quiet me. Nevertheless, because of my thorough quietness and all others’ hereafter, my desire is that they may continue in their inquiry and examination to the uttermost, as long as they lawfully may; yea, and when these have given their verdict, though it be never so plainly found, assuredly I do wish that another substantial company of honest men might try again for the more knowledge of troth. I have also requested to Sir Richard Blount, who is a perfect honest gentleman, to help to the furtherance thereof. I trust he be with you, or thing long, and Mr. Norris likewise. Appleyard, I hear, hath been there, as I appointed, and Arthur Robsert her brothers. If any more of her friends had been to be had, I would also have caused them to have seen and been privy to all the dealing there.
Well, Cousin, God’s will be done; and I wish he had made me the poorest that creepeth on the ground, so this mischance had not happened to me. But, good Cousin, according to my trust have care about all things, that there be plain, sincere, and direct dealing for the full trial of this matter. Touching Smith and the rest, I mean no more to deal with them, but let them proceed in the name of God accordingly: and I am right glad they be all strangers to me.
Thus fare you well, in much haste; from Windsor.
Your loving friend and kinsman,
R. D.
What subsequently took place before the Coroner, or how long the inquest lasted after the 13th, or what became of Blount, are only subjects of conjecture, for there are no further documents extant; and here, so far as is known, ended the correspondence. There appears no ground for questioning the fairness of the inquiry, which, it must be borne in mind, was attended by Arthur Robsart, a relation [illegitimate brother] of Amy’s, and by Mr. Appleyard, probably the owner of Stanfield Hall, an old friend of her family, [half brother] and ended, after a tedious and patient investigation, with a verdict of mischance, or what would now be termed accidental death, which was equivalent to an entire acquittal of Forster and all others of violence. It is, however, certain that there were circumstances of very grave suspicion, and that an unusual degree of public feeling was roused in all parts of the country. The only person known to have taken an active and conspicuous part in the public outcry was Thomas Lever, a distinguished preacher of the day, a prebendary of Durham, and Master of Sherborne Hospital, who appears to have been impressed with the general opinion that Amy had been murdered, in furtherance of her husband’s ambitious designs, and that it was his intention to hush up the matter, and prevent an inquiry into the cause of her death; and possibly feeling that the sacred duties of his office demanded that he should step forward, and claim on behalf of the public a discovery of the truth or falsehood of the current rumours, he took upon himself to address the subjoined letter to two of the Queen’s principal advisers, being, it may be gathered, at the time unaware that a coroner’s jury had been impanelled for that purpose, and that Leicester himself was urging the unflinching discharge of their duty. Here is Lever’s letter on the matter:
The grace of God be unto your Honours, with my humble commendations and hearty thanks in Christ; for it hath pleased God to place you in authority with wisdom and wills to advance His glory, the Queen’s Majesty’s Godly honour, and the peaceable wealth of this realm; and that also I am well assured of your favourable minds towards me, to take in writing according to my meaning, faithfully, reverently, and lovingly.
Therefore I am moved and boldened by writing to signify unto you, that here in these parts seemeth unto me to be a grievous and dangerous suspicion and muttering of the death of her which was the wife of my Lord Robert Dudley. And now my desire and trust is that the rather by your goodly discreet device and diligence, through the Queen’s Majesty’s authority, earnest searching and trying out of the truth with due punishment, if any be found guilty in this matter, may be openly known. For if no search nor inquiry be made and known, the displeasure of God, the dishonour of the Queen, and the danger of the whole realm is to be feared.
And by due inquiry and justice openly known surely God shall be well pleased and served, the Queen’s Majesty worthily commended, and her loving subjects comfortably quieted. The Lord God guide you by His grace in this and all other your goodly travels, as he knoweth to be most expedient in Christ.
Scribbled at Coventry, the 17th of September, by your faithfully in Christ,
Thomas Lever.
Unto the right honourable Sir Francis Knollys, and Sir William Cecil, Knights, and to either of them be these delivered. 17
Whether Lever was satisfied with the verdict of the jury, there is nothing to show, but it may be presumed he was, as no more is afterwards heard of him on the subject. Let us now proceed to examine the various statements made by historians as to the manner of her death, all of which (Dugdale’s excepted) have their foundation in the most virulent libel that ever was published, viz., Leycester’s Commonwealth. Dugdale merely says, “As to his wives, certain it is, that he first married Anne, 18 the daughter and heir to Sir John Robsart, Knight, which lady came to an unhappy death, at one Mr. Forster’s house, in Cumnor, near Oxford (then his tenant), 19 by a fall from the stairs, as ‘twas said, and lyeth buried in St. Marie’s Church, in that University.” Wood, in his Athenæ Oxoniensis, 20 says, “The Lady Amey Robsert, the first wife of Robert Earl of Leicester, whose body having been at first buried in Cumnor Church near Abendon (for there she died, or rather was murdered, in the manor house there belonging to Anth. Forster, Gent., 8 September, 1560) was taken up, and reburied in the Church of St. Mary the Virgin, in Oxon.” Afterwards in speaking of “Robert Persons or Parsons, a Jesuit,” 21 the reputed author of Leycester’s Commonwealth, “This book, tho’ commonly reported to be Persons’ (and that he had most of his materials for the composition thereof from Sir William Cecil, Lord Burleigh), which I presume did arise from Dr. Thomas James his affirmation, that he was the Author of it.” Osborn, in his Historical and Traditional Memoirs of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth, 22 says, “Amongst all her minions, none (according to report) bad fairer for the Queen’s Bride bed than Leicester; nor could Leicester render his bed vacant to a more thriving end (as he is rumoured to have done) than to make room for the greatest and most fortunate Princess the Sun ever looked upon, without blushing in relation to oppression or blood.” Dr. Campbell, in the Biographia Britannica, 23 in reference to Amy’s death, says, “And so it falls out, that the industrious John Aubrey, Esq., speaking of Cumnor, in Berkshire, where this happened, inserts the following relation, which is very circumstantial, and carries in it strong pretences to absolute certainty. At all events it is very curious, and much clearer than anything else that is to be met with on this subject.” Dr. Campbell then gives the statement as written by Ashmole, for it was Elias Ashmole who was the author of it, and not “the industrious John Aubrey”, a singular error that the Doctor here committed. Aubrey wrote nothing in relation to Amy Dudley. This error of Dr. Campbell’s is the more remarkable; inasmuch as he, in speaking of Aubrey, quotes “his History of Berkshire, pp. 149, 154”, which is the reference to Ashmole’s history. Strange that his successor, Dr. Kippis, did not detect this. Dr. Kippis, in the second edition of the Biographia Britannica condemns the reliance that his predecessor (Dr. Campbell) had placed on Aubrey’s story (for he also has fallen into the same error, as to Aubrey instead of Ashmole), and points out that this narrative, quoted by Dr. Campbell, is merely a plagiarism from Leycester’s Commonwealth. Dr. Samuel Jebb, in his Life of Robert, Earl of Leicester, 24 gives an abbreviated account of Ashmole’s relation. In the Bibliotheca Topographia Britannica; Berkshire Collections, will be found the same account as in Dr. Jebb’s Life, in which the writer (Mr. Mores, the Antiquary) quotes that work as his authority, as well as Wood’s Athenæ Oxoniensis, Osborne’s Memoirs of Elizabeth, and Secret Memoirs of Robert Earl of Leicester, with Preface by Dr. Drake. The latter, however, is merely a reprint of Leycester’s Commonwealth under another title. Bloomfield, in his History of Norfolk, 25 says, “This lady came to an unhappy death at Mr. Forster’s house at Cumnor, near Oxford, by a fall from the stairs, and was buried at St. Mary’s, the University Church at Oxford. The Earl is said not to be overkind to her, and that she was either thrown, or tumbled down a pair of stairs, and broke her neck.” Lysons, in the Magna Britannia, 26 thus speaks of Cumnor House, “the seat of Anthony Forster, Esq., who lies buried in Cumnor Church. His epitaph represents him as a very amiable man, very learned, a great musician, builder, and planter; but his character stands by no means clear of the imputation of having been accessory to the murder of the Countess of Leicester, at his own house at Cumnor, whither she was sent for that purpose by her husband. Sir Richard Verney, one of the Earl’s retainers, was the chief agent in this horrid business. A chamber is shewn in the ruined mansion, which adjoins the churchyard at Cumnor, called the Dudley-Chamber, where the Countess is said to have been murdered, and afterwards thrown down stairs, to make it appear that her death was accidental.” The authorities quoted by Lysons are Ashmole’s Berkshire and Dugdale’s Baronage. Chalmers, in his Biographical Dictionary, has doubtless copied from the Biographia Britannica, as he also has fallen into the same error as to Aubrey. Chalmers nevertheless states, “This narrative [Ashmole’s], however, appears doubtful, because it is, in fact, almost closely copied from Leycester’s Commonwealth, a work which, with some truth, contains also much misrepresentation.”
The funeral of Amy Robsart took place at the Church of Our Lady at Oxford, on Sunday, September 22, 1560 of which may be found among the Dugdale MSS. in the Ashmolean Collection. In whatever manner the death of Leicester’s wife took place, it is certain that, on his becoming a widower, his ambition raised him to the hopes of marrying the Queen; and that there was a general opinion, both at home and abroad, of her Majesty’s inclination to the match. Indeed it was not disclaimed by Elizabeth herself. The Queen took much pains to vindicate Leicester from the aspersions that were cast upon him. An instance of that may be found in her answer to Mr. Jones, who had been sent with despatches from Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, then ambassador in France, who says that, in reference to the report that Lord Robert had caused his wife to be privately murdered, “She thereupon told me that the matter had been tried in the country, [coroner’s inquest] and found to be contrary to that which was reported, saying that he was then in the Court, and none of his at the attempt at his wife’s house, and that it fell out as should neither touch his honesty nor her honour.” Some years afterwards (in 1585) letters signed by Burghley and the rest of the Council were sent to the justices of the peace for the suppression of the libels in circulation against Leicester, and a letter with the Queen’s sign manual was sent to the Lord Mayor, Sheriffs, and Aldermen of London, to the same effect.
That Leycester’s Commonwealth was a most virulent libel, everyone must admit. Yet Ashmole, whose statement has been quoted by most subsequent writers, not satisfied with adopting the Commonwealth story as his own, has added some statements at direct variance with the truth, for instance, “That as soon as ever she was murdered, they made great hast to bury her, before the Coroner had given in his Inquest (which the Earl himself condemned, as not done advisedly) which her father, or Sir John Robertsett (as I suppose) bearing of, came with all speed thither, caused her corps to be taken up, the Coroner to sit upon her, and further enquiry to be made concerning this business to the full, but it was generally thought that the Earl stopped his mouth, and made up the business betwixt them.” It so happens that her father, Sir John Robsart, had then been dead above three years, for Leicester came into possession of the Robsart estates in January 1557. Then, again, “That as soon as ever she was murdered, they made great hast to bury her, before the Coroner” and that her father “caused her corps to be taken up, the Coroner to sit upon her”. The Commonwealth story says, “My good Lord would needs have her taken up again and reburied.” All which is evidently false; there is nothing in Leicester’s letters to Blount (before quoted) to warrant such an inference. 27
16 Manning and Bray’s Surrey, folio, Vol. I, p. 446: In the year 1559 Leicester had a grant from the Queen of “a capital mansion, called the Dairy House,” at Kew, and was living there in 1560, whence this letter was written. This Dairy House had been held in time of Edward VI., by Sir Henry Gate, but as he suffered with John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, 1st Mary, it would then have been escheated to the crown
17 Burleigh State Papers, 1560
18 In which he is in error, as her own letter proves it to be “Amye”
19 Forster was tenant to Mr. Owen. Cumnor was never owned by Leicester
20 Vol. I., fo., 1691, col. 166
21 Vol. I., col. 304.
22 12mo, 1658, pp. 69, 71
23 Article Robert Dudley, Note D
24 8vo, 1727, pp. 7, 8
25 Folio, Vol. III., pp. 851-2
26 Vol. I., p. 270
27 Adlard George. Amye Robsart and the Earl of Leicester; A Critical Enquiry, 1870