before her death Lord Henry Howard wrote to the Earl of Mar—"The queen our sovereign was never so gallant many years, nor so set upon jollity." The Earl of Worcester wrote also—"We are frolic here in Court: much dancing in the Privy Chamber of country dances before the queen's majesty, who is exceedingly pleased therewith." She had a now favourite also—the young Earl of Clanricarde—as if on the brink of the grave she was in a mood for alliance with young men. He was said to resemble the Earl of Essex, and the courtiers all paid much attention to him because they thought it would please the queen; but she affected not to like him because he reminded her of Essex, and renewed her sorrow. But we may well suppose that there were deeper sorrows than the death of Essex. A strange story is told of her calling for a true looking-glass, saying for twenty years she had not seen one; and on beholding her withered and wrinkled face, she fell to cursing her flatterers so fiercely that they dare not come into her presence. The fact was that the courtiers had rudely stripped away the delusions with which they had so long mocked her. The time which she had always had a terror of—that in which they should quit her to pay court to the rising sun—had arrived. The confessions of Essex had revealed to her the fact that her very chief minister, who still continued one of a very small number who paid her the same daily attentions, was sworn to her successor, and was in close correspondence with him. A letter of April 7th, 1602, says—"The queen walks often on Richmond Green with greater show of ability than can well stand with her years. Mr. Secretary sways all of importance, albeit of late much absent from the Court and about London, but not omitting in his absence daily to present Her Majesty with some jewel or toy that maybe acceptable. The other of the Council or nobility estrange themselves from Court by all occasions, so as, besides the master of the horse, vice-chamberlain, and comptroller, few of account appear there."
When Cecil was present it required all his art to conceal his correspondence with the King of Scotland. One day a packet was delivered to him from James in the queen's presence. She ordered him instantly to open it, and show its contents to her. It was a critical moment, and none but a long-practised diplomatist could have escaped the exposure which it would probably occasion; but recollecting her excessive dislike of bad smells and terror of contagion, he observed as he was cutting the string that "it had a strange and evil smell," and hinted that it might have been in contact with infected persons or goods. Elizabeth immediately ordered the cunning minister to take it away and have it purified, which no doubt he did of any dangerous contents before displaying them to Her Majesty.
Meantime, not only Cecil and Howard, but another clique, was busy paying court to James. These were Raleigh, Cobham, and the Earl of Northumberland. They met at Durham House, and kept up a warm correspondence with James; but they were as zealously counteracted by Cecil and Howard, who warned James of all things not to trust to them, Howard declaring that as for Raleigh and Cobham, "hell did never spew up such a couple when it cast up Cerberus and Phlegethon."
While these self-seeking courtiers were thus anxiously labouring to stand first with the heir, Elizabeth was sinking fast into a most pitiable condition. She was weighed down by a complication of complaints, and her mind was affrighted by strange spectres. She told some of her ladies that "she saw one night her own body, exceeding lean and fearful, in a light of fire." This was at Whitehall, and as her astrologer, Dr. Dee, had bade her beware of Whitehall, she determined to remove to Richmond, which she did on a very wild and stormy day, the 14th of January, 1603. She had a severe cold before setting out, and no doubt increased it. Her melancholy rapidly increased, and she spent the whole of her time in sighs and tears, or in talking of the treason and execution of Essex, the proposed marriage of Arabella Stuart with the grandson of the Earl of Hertford, or the rebellion of Tyrone. On the 10th of March the physicians gave her up, and strong guards were posted about the palace, to prevent any attempt to interrupt the accession of the King of Scots, all suspicious-looking persons being taken up and committed to prison, or shipped off to Holland.
To what a condition this great queen was now reduced we may imagine from what that condition was more than a year before. In October of 1601, Sir John Harrington says she was wonderfully altered in her features, and reduced to a skeleton. Her food was nothing but manchet bread and succory pottage. She had not changed her clothes for many days. Nothing could please her; she was the torment of the ladies who waited on her. She stamped with her feet and swore violently at the objects of her anger. For her protection she had ordered a sword to be placed by her table, which she often took in her hand, and thrust with violence into the tapestry of her chamber.
Now she was so terrified at apparitions that she refused to go to bed, and remained sitting on the floor on the scarlet cushions taken from the throne, for four days and nights. No one could persuade her to take any sustenance or go to bed. The Archbishop of Canterbury, Cecil, and the lord admiral endeavoured to persuade her, but in vain. When the lord admiral urged her to go to bed, she said, "None; there were spirits there that troubled her;" and added, that, "if he were in the habit of seeing such things in his bed as she did in hers, ho would not try to persuade her to go there." Cecil hearing this, asked if Her Majesty had seen any spirits. At this she cast one of her old lightning flashes at him, and said, "I shall not answer you such a question." Cecil then said she must go to bed to content the people. "Must," she said, smiling scornfully, "must is a word not to be used to princes;" adding, "Little man! little man! if your father had lived you durst not have said so much, but you know I must die, and that makes you so presumptuous." She now saw that man's real character, and ordering him and all the rest except the lord admiral out of her chamber, she said, "My lord, I am tied with a chain of iron round my neck." He endeavoured to dissipate the idea, but she only said, "I am tied! I am tied! and the case is altered with me."
"The queen," says Lady Southwell, "kept her bed fifteen days, besides the three days she sat upon a stool, and one day, when, being pulled up by force, she obstinately stood upon her feet for fifteen hours." What a most miserable scene was the death-bed of this extraordinary woman! Surely nothing was ever more melancholy
