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Sunday, August 18, 2019

The Essex Rebellion and the Earl of Southampton.

Woodcut of the Execution of
the Earl of Essex.

In  this series:


On February 8th, 1600/1, a panicky Earl of Essex sallied out of Essex House, in London, with his allies and 300 men, to make a desperate attempt at rallying the citizens of London to his banner.  For months he had been smoldering over his fall from grace with Queen Elizabeth I.  His reaction was petulant, his fantasies treasonous.

When Elizabeth appointed the heroic Essex to bring fractious Ireland into submission to her crown, he marched off, to the applause of all of London, oblivious to the enormous difficulty of the task.  Soon after arriving, he came to believe that the means were not available to force subjection.  Forbidden to return to England to discuss matters with the queen, he returned anyway, thinking to conquer her heart rather than Ireland, and barged into her private dressing room unannounced.  It was an unforgivable breach.

That Essex would gamble so wildly was consistent with a lifetime of poor decisions.  His personal instability went much further than could generally be assigned to a young Earl.  Associated in the Queen’s heart with her beloved Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, who died in 1588, he had been especially spoiled.  The two were on intimate terms.  He knew how to play upon the aged queen’s vanity.



He would never return to favored status again.  He had been blatantly insubordinate.  His offices and royal grants were withdrawn piecemeal in a fashion to deal him shock after shock.  His pride would not let him seek restoration for long through patience and humility.

As the Earl gathered friends around him to whom to air his grievances, venting became vague threats, vague threats became a specific intention to take armed control of the Royal Court.  Essex felt that he was not overthrowing the Queen but forcing her to replace her “evil” counselor, Robert Cecil, and other of his allies.

Among Essex’s closest friends was Henry Wriothesley, the Earl of Southampton.  The two had been wards of William Cecil, Baron Burghley, during the 1580s.  They shared the great house Cecil House on the Strand with the Baron’s family including his son Robert.  Southampton chomped at the bit to engage in military exploits.  Burghley pulled back hard on the reins and directed him toward education and social graces.  Essex, the swashbuckling elder of the two, sweeping through from time to time on his way elsewhere, became the star toward which the younger man gazed with admiration.  The Earl of Rutland was also a ward of Burghley at the time and seems to have tagged along mostly at a safe distance.

While Southampton chaffed and finished his school and wardship, Essex accompanied his step-father, Leicester, to fight in the Lowlands.  He fought in Portugal and in Normandy, distinguishing himself on all occasions.  He was made a special ambassador, a privy councilor, general of the horse in preparation for the arrival of the Spanish Armada.  He was made a Knight of the Garter.  London celebrated him as its unrivalled hero.  In short, he was everything Southampton might dream of being.

Essex had been hatching reckless plans long before his fall from grace with the Queen that included the younger Southampton as his trusted lieutenant.  Now, in a desperate attempt to force his way back into power, he plotted to force the queen, by armed intervention, to name King James VI[1], with whom he had long  been privately corresponding[2], as her rightful heir.  Southampton was always leery but could never say no to his hero, England’s greatest warrior.  Other allies counseled patience.  Having only Southampton’s material support Essex had to bide his time.

As Cecil did what he could to guide the country toward a peaceful transfer of power he watched Essex and others position themselves for the battles they were determined to wage.  Essex’s every move was known, his every plan.  Just as he planned to call the Londoners that so idolized him to arms, the next day, orders went out to the city authorities to guarantee that the citizens would remain off the streets, in their homes.  The authorities shadowed his movements as he made his pathetic journey through deserted streets.

He was taken prisoner from Essex House later that day.   Few remained with him but Southampton.

As soon as Essex had been removed from the scene, Robert Cecil began advising James, through secret, coded correspondence[3], to avoid the many unstable sorts that were so common at the English Court.  Cecil knew better than anyone that James was the only viable heir and that an heir was essential to assure against internecine warfare over an empty throne.


Both Earls were found guilty of High Treason.  Essex went under the axe on February the 25th.  He ended with a courage and humility that Shakespeare may have noted in the play Macbeth:

King. Is execution done on Cawdor?
Or not those in Commission yet return'd?
Malcolm. My Liege, they are not yet come back.
But I haue spoke with one that saw him die:
Who did report, that very frankly hee
Confess'd his Treasons, implored your Highnesse Pardon,
And set forth a deepe Repentance:
Nothing in his Life became him,
Like the leauing it. Hee dy'de,
As one that had beene studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he ow'd,
As 'twere a carelesse Trifle.[4]

The Earl of Southampton is generally said to have received a reprieve.  Actually, he was simply left a prisoner in The Tower without an execution date.  The axe, as it were, was poised every minute over his head.  He had no idea when it might fall.




[1] Devereux , Walter Bourchier.  Lives and Letters of the Devereux, Earls of Essex, in the Reigns... (1853). 2.132.  Bruce, John. Correspondence of King James VI. of Scotland with Sir Robert Cecil and others (1861). xxi.
[2] Devereux , 1.184.  The first letter of which I am aware was written in April 18, 1587.
[3] Bruce, John. Correspondence of King James VI. of Scotland with Sir Robert Cecil and others (1861), 6.  Thus have I now (ex mero officio to my Souverayne, and out of affectionate care to your Majesties future happines, whom God hath instituted to sitt (in his dew tyme) in the chayre of state, at the feet whereof I dayly kneele,) exposed my self to more inconvenience then ether your Majesties former indisposition or my owne caution (in a iealous fortune) should adventure,…
[4] New Variorum Edition of Shakespeare, Macbeth (1915). I.iv.4-15.


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