SIR WILLIAM
CECIL, Principal Secretary of State, had been appointed guardian
of the Royal Ward on behalf of the Queen. And it was at Cecil House
in the Strand, just opposite the recent site of the Cecil Hotel, that
young Oxford took up his residence. This new home was an imposing structure
of brick and timber, "adorned with four turrets placed at the four
corners of the house; within . . . curiously beautified with rare devices,
and especially the Oratory, placed in an angle of the great chamber.''
1 The garden, for twenty years the charge of John
Gerard, author of Herbal,
or General History of Plants, was noted for its rich variety
of flowers, shrubs, and trees. Formal allees were adorned with fountains,
a sun-dial, occasional statuary.
During the ensuing eight years, except for the time spent at Cambridge
and later at Oxford, Edward de Vere lived at Cecil House, where his
days were strictly regimented, as a document entitled "Orders for
the Earl of Oxford's exercises" indicates. He was "to rise
at such time as he may be ready to his exercises by 7 o'clock."
Then:
7-7:30. Dancing,
7:30-8. Breakfast,
8-9. French,
9-10. Latin,
10-10:30. Writing and Drawing.
Then Common Prayers, and so to Dinner.
1-2. Cosmography,
2-3. Latin,
3-4. French,
4-4:30. Exercises with his pen.
Then Common Prayers, and so to supper. 2
He "read before dinner the Epistle and the Gospel in his own tongue
and in the other tongue after dinner. All the rest of the day to be
spent in riding, shooting, dancing, walking, and other commendable exercises,
saving the time for Prayer."
His tutor was Laurence Nowell, Dean of Litchfield, with Arthur
Golding still on hand to school the boy in his special field. The
young Earl's precocity and mental maturity are attested in a letter
addressed to his guardian by the scholarly Dean when his pupil was only
thirteen and a half years of age: "I clearly see that my work for
the Lord of Oxford cannot much longer be required." His linguistic
proficiency, as well as his spontaneity and warmth, are shown in a letter
he himself wrote in French, during that same year, to Cecil, dated August
23, 1563:
MONSIEUR TRÈS HONORABLE,
Monsieur, j'ai reçu vos lettres plaines d'humanité et
courtoisie, et fort resemblantes à votre grand amour et singulier
affection envers moi, comme vrais enfants devement procrées
d'une telle mère, pour laquelle je me trouve de jour en jour
plus tenu à v.h. vos bons admonestements pour l'observation
du bon ordre selon vos appointements. Je me délibère
(Dieu aidant) de garder en toute diligence comme chose que je cognois
et considère tendre especialment à mon propre bien et
profit, usant en celà l'advis et authorité de ceux qui
sont auprès de moi, la discretion desquels j'estime si grande
(s'il me convient parler quelquechose à leur avantage) qui
non seulement ils se porteront selon qu'un tel temps le requiert,
ains que plus est feront tant que je me gouverne selon que vous avez
ordonné et commandé. Quant a l'ordre de mon étude
pour ce qu'il requiert un long discours à l'expliquer par le
menu, et le temps est court a cette heure, je vous prie affectueusement
m'en excuser pour le présent, vous assurant que par le premier
passant je le vous ferais savoir bien au long. Cependant je prie à
Dieu vous donner santé.
EDWARD OXINFORD 3
It was twelve months after this, on August 10, 1564, that Edward de
Vere received his A.B. degree from Cambridge University, where he had
lodged at St. John's College. During the Queen's visit to Cambridge
he had acted in a presentation in Latin of the Aulularia
of Plautus at King's College Chapel. He had continued writing poems
while there, with most of which he followed the rigid convention of
the day that prohibited the publication of verses by a nobleman under
his own name, or even in his lifetime, although a few others, in defiance
of custom, he signed with the initials, E. O. Some of these appear in
an anthology called The Paradise
of Dainty Devices.
In England's
Helicon there are verses signed by the "posy," Shepherd
Tony, which, though far from matching the quality of his later work,
show definite merit and a forecast of excellence to come. Obviously
written under the influence of the affectations of early Elizabethan
poetry, they are distinguished for a new note of realism which Oxford
was destined to carry to such lengths in his dramatic verse that Hamlet
could truly say, "the players . . . tell all." 4
By now the youth's predilections, talents, and zest for scholarship
had become so well recognized that he was made the recipient of dedications
from such authors as John Brooke, himself a graduate of Trinity College,
and Arthur Golding, who testified to his admiration for his former pupil
by comparing him to Epaminondas, Prince of Thebes, and to Arymba, King
of Epirus, one that excelled not only in martial arts but in learning
and the arts of peace.
Brooke wrote, in part:
I understanding right well that your honour hath continually, even
from your tender years, bestowed your time and travail towards the
attaining of (scholarship), as also the University of Cambridge hath
acknowledged in granting . . . unto you such commendation and praise
thereof, and verily by right was due unto your excellent virtue and
rare learning....5
And Golding, in May 1564:
It came to my remembrance that since it hath pleased Almighty God
to take to his mercy your noble father (to whom I had long before
vowed this my travail) there was not any who, either of duty might
more justly claim the same, or for whose estate it seemed more requisite
. . . or of whom I thought it should be more favourably accepted,
than of your honour. For . . . it is not unknown to others, and I
have had experience thereof myself, how earnest a desire your honour
hath naturally grafted in you to read, peruse, and communicate
. . . as well the histories of ancient times, and things done long
ago, as also of the present estate of things in our days, and that
not without a certain pregnancy of wit and understanding. The
which do not only rejoice the hearts of all such as bear faithful
affection to the honourable house of your ancestors, but also stir
up a great hope and expectation of such wisdom and experience in you
in times to come, as is meet and beseeming for so noble a race.
Let these and other examples encourage your tender years . . . to
proceed in learning and virtue . . . and yourself to become thereby
the equal to any of your predecessors in advancing the honour of your
noble house: whereof . . . your great forwardness giveth assured
hope and expectation.... Your Lordship's humble servant, Arthur
Goldyng. 6
In these lines, de Vere's tutor had touched upon the dominant interests—upon
what came to be almost the obsessions—of his life: the honor of
his name and his love of virtue, learning, and the arts, in especial
an interest in "histories of ancient times, and things done long
ago, as also of the present estate of things in our days," which,
indeed, he displayed a natural, even an irresistible tendency to "peruse
and communicate." Throughout his life many of his contemporaries
would comment upon his honesty and fair dealing, his generosity and
his virtue. Any smirch upon the name his ancestors had made illustrious
was, from boyhood to his life's end, a source of anguish to him; yet
ironically his name was to become the object of slander and a strange
obloquy, to the extent that finally, although he, pre-eminently among
the Veres who had for five centuries glorified it, deserved the high
accolade of posterity, it was to be obliterated, and the honor which
was his due made a mockery and a sham. Edward de Vere's life was as
dramatic as any he celebrated in his work, and none, given his innate
nobility, his aspirations, and achievements, could in its final sum
have been more profoundly tragic.
The first blow struck soon after his father's death, when he was only
thirteen. His half-sister, Katherine, daughter of the Sixteenth Earl
by his first wife, charged him with bastardy and, abetted by her husband,
Baron Windsor, sued to recover his part of the estate. Her claim that
Edward's mother, Margery Golding, had not been legally married to the
Sixteenth Earl, was refuted. In the Parish Register of Belchamp St.
Paul's, Essex, the simple entry may still be read:
Ao. Domini 1548. The wedding of my Lord John de Vere, Earl of Oxenford,
and Margery, the daughter of John Goulding Esquire, the first of August.
The scandal soon blew over, but it had brought shock and grief to the
proud young Earl, no doubt increasing his sensitiveness to any further
slur.
It is said that the Queen one day had laughingly taunted him about
the suit, calling him her "little bastard"; whereupon he had
burst into tears and rushed headlong from her presence. The youth relieved
his wounded spirit by writing a poem on the subject, thus initiating
a habit of release through his art which was to grow upon him and lead
to the creation of an intricate and beautiful fabric of poetry and drama
at once darkened by his sufferings and illuminated by his genius. This
early poem, however, gave small hint, unless through its fervor, of
the power to come.
His good name being blemished, he bewaileth
Fram'd in the front of forlorn hope past all recovery,
I stayless stand, to abide the shock of shame and infamy.
My life, through ling'ring long, is lodg'd in lair of loathsome
ways;
My death delay'd to keep from life the harm of hapless days.
My sprites, my heart, my wit and force, in deep distress are drown'd;
The only loss of my good name is of these griefs the ground.
And since my mind, my wit, my head, my voice and tongue are weak,
To utter, move, devise, conceive, sound forth, declare and speak,
Such piercing plaints as answer might, or would my woeful case,
Help crave I must, and crave I will, with tears upon my face,
Of all that may in heaven or hell, in earth or air be found,
To wail with me this loss of mine, as of these griefs the ground.
Help Gods, help saints, help sprites and powers that in the heaven
do dwell,
Help ye that are aye wont to wail, ye howling hounds of hell;
Help man, help beasts, help birds and worms, that on the earth do
toil;
Help fish, help fowl, that flock and feed upon the salt sea soil,
Help echo that in air doth flee, shrill voices to resound,
To wail this loss of my good name, as of these griefs the
ground.
E. O.
We have stressed "good name," because it is a concept of
such importance in the poet's life that it is frequently reflected in
his writing. We might add that, together with the fervor of emotion,
one finds here a gusto for word and image which is prophetic of intellectual
abundance—for example, in line 8—while the reference
to "echo," not to mention "tears," is the first
of many throughout his work.
In September of his seventeenth year the Earl of Oxford received his
M.A. degree at Christ Church College, Oxford University, in the presence
of the Chancellor, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. His university
training complete, he proceeded to Gray's Inn, to spend the ensuing
three years in the study of law.
At Gray's Inn, where George
Gascoigne had recently introduced Continental plays, his interest
in the drama struck root and flourished. Two plays translated by Gascoigne,
The Supposes
from the Supposisti of Ariosto,
and Jocasta
from the Phoenissae of Euripides (the latter done in collaboration
with Kinwelmersh and Yelverton), the first Italian and Greek dramas
ever given in English, were presented by "the gentlemen of the
Inn." From time to time others were given, in which Oxford himself
would have taken part, together with Philip Sidney and, later, Francis
Bacon.
"About this time," says an entry in Sir William Cecil's diary
for July 1567, "Thomas Bricknell, an under-cook, was hurt by the
Earl of Oxford at Cecil House in the Strand, whereof he died; and by
a verdict found felo-de-se with running upon a point of a fence
sword of the said Earl's." Subsequently, in a personal letter,
Cecil admitted that he helped the jury to find the verdict of acquittal.
We have no way of knowing whether the unfortunate Bricknell was doing
a bit of spying for his master, although we have indisputable evidence
that some years later Cecil did employ servants to spy into Oxford's
doings and received a haughty rebuke for his intrusion.
Since William Cecil, with unremitting purpose and fixed plan, saw to
it that nothing within his control ever went into the record which did
not reflect credit upon himself and his family—a fact that explains
the tone and limitations of Camden's
Annals, a history of England which he sponsored and
which has been the source of most of our information concerning the
Elizabethan Age—it is permissible to speculate upon this note and
this admission.
Cecil, an able politician and administrator, shrewd opportunist and
tireless worker in Elizabeth's behalf, was ipso facto a thoroughly
practical man who had no sympathy with any serious pursuit of the arts,
really no comprehension of, and therefore no patience with, the creative
temper. A man of Cecil's type, to whom expediency and advancement constituted
the sole guide, could not conceive of the poet's spiritual integrity,
his dedication to truth. (Here was the first, the fundamental irony
of Lord Oxford's situation.) Still a commoner, single-minded and ambitious,
William Cecil upheld established convention as immutable law. To him,
therefore, the contemptuous opinion in which poetic composition and
the dramatic arts were held was absolute. As for the theatre, it was
indeed a sink of vulgarity, the actors at that time the lowest kind
of vagabonds; and it would never have occurred to Cecil's conservative
and ignoble mind that it might be elevated.
In 1575 Cecil, by then Lord Burghley, wrote the Earl of Shrewsbury
that he hoped the Earl's son would not develop "any curiosity of
human learning . . . which I see doeth great hurt to all youth in this
time and age." 7
Close association with, and even dependence upon, such a man in his
home and as his ward was, for a youth of Lord Oxford's temperament and
tastes, bound to precipitate recurrent frictions and strains, if not
abiding animosities. On the one side was the mature statesman, crafty,
experienced, ruthless, who in the beginning of his career had shifted
loyalties and justified treacheries with consummate adroitness and sang-froid.
He had betrayed his friend Somerset for Somerset's worst enemy, then
as facilely veered about and betrayed Northumberland in turn. 8 A man of property, goaded by ambition, suspicious
by nature, cautious in method, sanctioned and dignified by success,
he was one who, having—by practices so politic and devious that
even Machiavelli might have learned from him—achieved the highest
place in his sovereign's counsels, knew how to maintain it, and indeed
served her in guiding the country during forty years of her reign with
a competence so astute and all-embracing that, in the verdict of history,
the stupendous ends would seem not only to have justified, but actually
to have ennobled, the means.
On the other side was the proud young Earl, sensitive, generous, impetuous,
bred in a conception of honor as absolute as a religious code, warm
in his affections, ardent in his loyalties, with a deep appreciation
of poetry, music, the drama of history no less than that of the life
around him, and with an inborn response to beauty and the higher reaches
of the spirit. He was perfectly at ease in the position to which the
older man aspired and took for granted the eminence the other coveted.
That the association of these two was kept as superficially amicable
as it proved in the long run to be, is a credit to the intelligence
and self-restraint of both; but it is not surprising that there were
times when considerable irritation and rancor were felt on both sides.
There could never have been much love or real sympathy between such
opposite natures. In fact, each seems to have been destined to contemn
the ways of the other.
It is deplorable—all things considered, it is astounding—that
Cecil should have had the last word. This man whose appetite for fame
had led him, by the strange law of contraries, to needless depths of
infamy, even caused to be engraved upon his wife's tomb a slur upon
the son-in-law whose ruin had been one means of his own aggrandizement,
accompanied by a pious panegyric of himself.
Perhaps this is as good a time as any to make the unqualified statement
that William Cecil consistently and with consummate guile played to
the gallery of posterity. In periods of corruption we speak of an influential
man's "fixing" the press. Cecil "fixed" history
with a cold, clear purpose, the far-reaching power of which amazes the
mind. Camden, upon the publication, in 1615, of his History of the
Most Renowned and Victorious Princess Elizabeth, etc., stated: "Above
eighteen years since William Cecil, Baron of Burghley . . . imparted
to me, first his own and then the Queen's Rolls, Memorials and Records,
willing me to compile from thence an Historical account of the First
Beginnings of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth...." This is the chief
source to which historians and annalists have gone. (Burghley even had
authority of censorship over Holinshed's Chronicles of contemporary
events, as we shall show.) A feature of the man's diabolical sagacity
seems to have been a cynical assurance regarding human meekness in the
face of the "authorized version," the dogmatic ukase.
Throughout Lord Oxford's long connection with William Cecil, first
as his ward, then as his kinsman by marriage, one of the most irksome
features of the older man's behavior was his inveterate prying. In this
he indulged both officially and in personal affairs. (Years afterward,
Robert Cecil, who was his father's duplicate in craft, hid behind the
arras during part of the Essex trial.) The Secretary's system of espionage
was intricate, far-reaching, effective. As everyone knows, it was of
inestimable benefit to the Queen at a time when conspiracy was rife
and traitors in smiling guise waited upon her at court, sometimes even
among her own trusted relatives. During one dangerous month, in 1562,
"every line the Spanish ambassador wrote was secretly conveyed
to Cecil by Borghese." 9
Nothing, however, could have been more intolerable than personal suspicion
to the first earl of the realm, an imperious, somewhat undisciplined
youth, unused to having his actions criticized or his integrity questioned.
If it were not for the fact that by a peculiar fatality—too consistent
to be accidental—most of the records of the young man's life, including
his personal letters, have been destroyed, there would doubtless be
many more evidences of protest upon his part.
So, as we say, it is interesting to speculate, in the matter of the
"under-cook" who died "with running upon a point of a
fence sword of the said Earl's"—an affair which evokes a well-known
dramatic incident concerning an eavesdropper—whether Thomas Bricknell
may not have met a spy's fate. Otherwise would not the inveterately
self-righteous Secretary have expressed censure for the culprit and
have been at less pains to minimize the incident?
There was another serious difference between the two. Sir William never
tired of rebuking the younger man for his improvidence, his utter disregard
of money; and this in spite of the fact that there had patently been
no effort to discourage habits of extravagance while the boy was living
in his guardian's house. For example, expenditure for clothes during
this period was enormous. A document summarizing "the charges of
apparel of the Earl of Oxford, 1566," is endorsed in the methodical
Cecil's own handwriting:
For the apparel, with Rapiers and Daggers for my Lord
of Oxenford, his person, viz.:
| 1562 and 63—In the first year and twenty-six
odd days, beginning the third of September, and ending the 28th
of September, Anno Reginae Elizabeth 5th. |
154
|
5
|
6
|
| 1563 and 64—Item, in the second year, beginning on the 28th
of September, Anno 5th, and ending 30th of September, Anno 6th. |
106
|
15
|
11
|
| 1564 and 5—Also in the third year beginning the last of
October, Anno 6th, ending the 28th of September, Anno 7th. |
191
|
10
|
8
|
| 1565 and 6—More for the 5th year beginning the 30th Day
of September, Anno 7th, and ending the 28th Sept. Anno 8th. |
175
|
12
|
1
|
| 1566—Sum of these 4 years. |
£627
|
15
|
0
|
10
Another account-book is headed:
Payments made by John Hart, Chester Herald, on behalf
of the Earl of Oxford from January 1st to September 30th, 1569/70:
| To John Spark, draper, for fine black [cloth] for
a cape and a riding cloak. |
6
|
5
|
0
|
| To Myles Spilsby, tailor, for one doublet of cambric, one of
fine canvas, and one of black satin; and the furniture of a riding
cloak. |
12
|
13
|
0
|
| To John Martin, hosier, for one pair of velvet hose, black. |
10
|
9
|
2
|
| To Philip Eunter, upholsterer, for one fine wool bed bolster,
and pillows of down |
2
|
7
|
0
|
| To Brown, my Lord's servant, for ten pairs of Spanish leather
shoes, and three pairs of Moyles. |
1
|
5
|
0
|
| To John Maria, cutler, for a rapier, dagger and girdle. |
1
|
6
|
8
|
| To William Seres, stationer, for a Geneva Bible gilt, a Chaucer,
Plutarch's works in French, with other books and papers. |
2
|
7
|
10
|
| To George Hill, saddler, for collars and girths for my Lord's
horse. |
|
5
|
0
|
| To Riche, the apothecary, for potions, pills and other drugs,
for my Lord's diet in time of his sickness. |
15
|
15
|
4
|
| To William Bishop, for wood and coals for victuals for my Lord
and his men in the time of his said diet, for a comocase furnished,
for two Italian books, for house rent, for the hire of a
hothouse, for horse hire, boat hire, carriages and other. |
30
|
16
|
0
|
| To Chester Herald, for six sheets of fine holland, six handkerchiefs
and six others of cambric, and for four yards of velvet, and four
others of satin, for to guard and border a Spanish cape |
15
|
10
|
8
|
| More to him for certain other articles for my Lord, during his
being sick at Windsor, for rewards to his physician, and others,
for servants' wages. . . and for the charges of keeping in the stable
and shoeing of four geldings for my Lord's service. |
36
|
5
|
4
|
| And for the board and diet of my Lord with his tutors and servants
at Cecil House for 14 days of this quarter at £3 a week |
6
|
0
|
0
|
| Summa Totalis |
145
|
17
|
4
|
This for the first quarter. In the following quarter occurs an item:
| To William Tavy, capper, for one velvet
hat, and one taffeta hat; two velvet caps, a scarf, two pairs of
garters with silver at the ends, a plume of feathers for a hat,
and another hat band. |
£4
|
6
|
0
|
In the third quarter, for more books:
| To William Seres, stationer, for Tully's and Plato's
works in folio, with other books, paper and nibs. |
4
|
6
|
4
|
11
Since some of these items constitute a rather formidable expenditure
for a boy in his 'teens, even in those days of elaborate personal adornment,
one cannot help wondering if commissions and deductions did not perhaps
go to some artful manipulator. For instance, the "apparel, with
Rapiers and Daggers," came in four years to more than $25,000 in
our money, one pound being worth about $40 in our present value [1952].
And from January through September 1569-70, 12
some of the charges seem exorbitant: $400 for one pair of black velvet
hose; more than $600 for drugs during an illness; while $480 for two
doublets and "furniture" for a riding-cloak is rather dear.
The amount spent for books—more than $80 at one time, for the Geneva
Bible, Chaucer, Plutarch, etc., and more than $160 at another, for Tully,
Plato, etc.—indicates at least the importance of literature to
the young Earl, the latter sum, we note, including "paper and nibs."
It is especially interesting to find him reading Plutarch in French
ten years before Lord North translated the Lives into English.
The author of the early version of Timon of Athens, 1576-77,
used Plutarch as one of his sources; he of course continued to do so
for other plays. Lord Oxford's possession of the Geneva Bible and Chaucer
is to be noted for the future use he made of them.
In his Essay on Lord Bacon, Macaulay wrote:
All the books then extant in the vernacular languages of Europe would
hardly have filled a single shelf.... It was therefore absolutely
necessary that a man should be uneducated or classically educated....The
Latin was in the 16th century all and more than French was in the18th.
It is arresting, to say the least, in connection with these expense
accounts, to find Hume relating that "a statement in [Cecil's]
own hand" in July, 1570, "contains an indignant denial of
the reports that had been spread with regard to his alleged dishonest
dealing with the property of his ward the Earl of Oxford." 13
It is typical of Hume that he glosses this over as if it were of no
consequence. During that same year Ambassador de Spes wrote: "Cecil
is a crafty fox . . . it is necessary to watch his designs very closely,
because he proceeds with the greatest caution and dissimulation."
14
[N.B.: Dorothy Ogburn's research points
to Cecil as the main beneficiary of Oxford's wardship and lands. However,
recent research by Nina Green
presents a formidable case that the true beneficiary of the wardship
was Queen Elizabeth and the true beneficiary of the lands was Robert
Dudley, Earl of Leicester.]
Although Lord Oxford had inherited 86 landed estates, many of them
were encumbered. He had been made executor of his father's will, but
it is doubtful if he ever had any practical experience in handling property,
since in all the great families there were agents who took charge of
such matters. His childhood had been spent in the spacious comfort—or
what passed for comfort in those austerer days—of Castle Hedingham,
his youth in that of his guardian's stately town house and the more
luxurious suburban mansion, Theobalds,
as well as at the court—in Whitehall, Windsor, Richmond, Greenwich,
or wherever the Queen elected to reside. His preoccupation, exclusive
of sports and the prescribed activities of a courtier, was all with
patriotic exploits, with learning and the arts; he could scarcely have
been expected to be greatly concerned with financial matters, or, if
Cecil did not instruct him, aware of the necessity for prudence in this
regard.
During his wardship, from 1562 until his majority in 1571—and,
it would seem, for many years longer—all his affairs were in William
Cecil's hands. And it is curious to note that, although the Earl was
to be forced during the ensuing fifteen years to alienate one estate
after another, to the sum of forty-nine in all, becoming gradually impoverished,
Cecil, who shortly before had been bewailing his own poverty, managed,
after getting himself appointed Master of the Court of Royal Wards,
to increase his holdings until, at the time of his death, he was possessed
of three hundred landed estates.
An interesting sidelight upon this rather striking circumstance is
the fact that the two noblemen most hostile to both Cecil and his son
were Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, and Henry Wriothesley, Earl of
Southampton, who became Royal Wards after de Vere's time. These two
young men seemed to have disliked the whole Cecil family. The Earl of
Oxford is said, in fact, to have been the only one who ever maintained
friendly relations with William Cecil.
In Oxford's case, the final settlement in 1590 of his indebtedness
to the Court of Wards was, according to Strype, 22,000 pounds—this
amounting to nearly a million dollars in our currency.
Financial ineptitude upon such a grand scale as this is remarkable
even in a poet; but one recalls that Shakespeare again and again evinces
a bland indifference to money similar in scope. It is the villain who
counsels, "Put money in thy purse."
No one was ever more plausible in speech, or apparently more suave
in manner, than William Cecil. According to Macaulay, "The deep
stain upon his memory is that, for differences of opinion for which
he would risk nothing himself, he, in the day of his power, took away
without scruple the lives of others."
But he did far more than that.
NOTES
1. Wheatly: London Past and Present
(1891); quot. Stowe and Norden. back
2.Ward; p. 20; cit. S.P.Dom. Eliz.,
26.50. back
3.Ward; p. 21; cit. Lansdowne MSS.,
6.25. back
4. A modern editor of England's
Helicon, A. H. Bullen, exploded the theory that Shepherd Tony
was Anthony Munday, in 1887. Looney demonstrates to our satisfaction
that he was the young Edward de Vere. (Shakespeare Identified;
pp. 250 and 308.) We are confident that Ignoto in this collection
also stands for de Vere. back
5. Ward; quot. The Staffe of Christian
Faith, by John Brooke of Ashe near Sandwiche. Pub. 1577. (B. M.
3901, b. 19) back
6. Ward; p. 23. (Our italics.) back
7. F. Chamberlin: The Private Character
of Q. Eliz.; cit. Talbot Papers, vol. p. fol. 745. back
8. Tytler, in England Under the
Reign of Edward VI and Mary II, says of William Cecil, "Upon
the whole, there is presented in these papers"—i.e., the "Submission"
he offered Mary upon her accession—"a picture of successful
craft, disingenuity and, I must add, falsehood which has perhaps never
been equalled in the history of statesmen." (Vol. 11, p. 206.)]
back
9. Hume: The Great Lord Burghley;
p. 130. back
10. Ward; pp. 32-3; cit. S.P.Dom.
Eliz., 42.38. back
11. Op. cit.: pp. 32-3; cit. S.P.Dom.,
Add. 19.38. (Our italics.) back
12. This is in reality only eight
months, since at that time the New Year began on March 4; thus January
1569-70 was actually January 1570. back
13. The Gr. Ld. Burghley; p.
246. back
14.Op. cit.; p. 249. back
