excuse me; for that which I had to say, either by word, or by writing, I must deliver myself. I could neither trust him, nor much less any other there with. He acquainted her majesty with my resolution. With much ado, I was called for in; and I was left alone with her. Our first encounter was stormy and terrible, which I passed over with silence. After she had spoken her pleasure of me and my wife, I told her, that “she herself was the fault of my marriage, and that if she had but graced me with the least of her favours, I had never left her, nor her court: and seeing she was the chief cause of my misfortune, I would never off my knees till I had kissed her hand, and obtained her pardon.” She was not displeased with my excuse, and before we parted we grew good. friends. Then I delivered my message and my papers, which she took very well, and at last gave me thanks for the pains I had taken. So having her princely word, that she had pardoned and forgotten all faults, I kissed her hand, and came forth to the presence, and was in the court, as I was ever before.”

There is much curious and pleasing information in this volume respecting the border transactions of England and Scotland. It ought to be read by all who admire the eight syllable lines of a modern writer, whose chief beauties are founded upon topicks connected with that rude state of society, when endless feuds were generated, and much blood spilled, by the predatory incursions of the inhabitants of the contiguous countries. Sir Robert Cary was appointed warden of one of the marches, and he enters into many details of what took place, which must be perused with much Pleasure.

We are tempted to give the sol

lowing long quotation, because we

are persuaded that it will be gratifying to all our readers. For ourselves, we would prefer such an artless and plain narrative, to a hundred of the studied descriptions and artificial embellishments of the professed historian. Descriptions by an eye witness have a relish in them, which no transmitted recital can possess. “After that all things were quieted, and the border in safety, towards the end of five years that I had been warden there, having little to do, I resolved upon a journey to court, to see my friends, and renew my acquaintance there. I took my journey about the end of the year 1602. When I came to court, I found the queen ill-disposed, and she kept her inner lodging; yet she, hearing of my arrival, sent

for me. I found her in one of her with

drawing chambers, sitting low upon her cushions. She called me to her; 1 kissed her hand, and told her it was my chiefest happiness to see her in safety, and in health, which I wished might long continue. She took me by the hand, and wrung it hard, and said: ‘No, Robin, I am not well,” and then discoursed with me of her indisposition, and that her heart had been sad and heavy for ten or twelve days; and in her discourse,she fetched not so few as forty or fifty great sighs. I was grieved at the first to see her in this plight; for in all my lifetime before, I never knew her fetch a sigh, but when the queen of Scots was beheaded. Then,f upon my knowledge, she shed many tears and sighs, # manifesting her innocence, that she never gave consent to the death of that queen. “I used the best words I could, to per

suade her from this melancholy humour; .

but I found by her, it was too deep-rooted in her heart, and hardly to be removed. This was upon a Saturday night, and she gave command that the great closet should be prepared for her to go to chapel the next morning. The next day, all things being in a readiness, we long expected her coming. After eleven o'clock, one of

* The firmness with which Mr. Cary weathered out this storm, evidently shows in what a school, and under what a mistress, he had been bred. He well knew, that the curious desire of the queen to be fully informed of every particular relating to the king of Scots, must, after a certain degree of assumed passion, turn into a proper calm, proper at least for hearing his sentiments, if not for expressing some of her own. The effects of his judgment were fully answered; and certainly his judgment never appeared more conspicuous, than from the beginning to the end of the scene which he has exhibited

Ripon this occasion. f:At that time—In the year 1587.

* They were, indeed, necessary upon that occasion.

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the grooms" came out, and bade make rea-
dy for the private closet, she would not go
to the great. There we stayed long for
her coming, but at the last she had cush-
ions laid for her in the privy chamber hard
by the closet door, and there she heard
“From that day forwards, she grew
worse and worse. She remained upon her
cushions four days and nights at the least.
All about her could not persuade her, ei-
ther to take any sustenance, or go to bed.
“I, hearing that neither the physicians,
nor none about her, could persuade her
to take any course for her safety, feared
her death would soon after ensue. I could
not but think in what a wretched estate I
should be left, most of my livelihood de-
pending on her life. And hereupon I be-
thought myself with what grace and favour
I was ever received by the king of Scots,
whensoever I was sent to him. I did assure
myself, it was neither unjust, nor unhonest
for me to do for myself, if God, at that
time, should call her to his mercy. Here-
upon I wrote to the king of Scots (know-
ing him to be the rightheir to the crown of
Eiglandf) and certified him in what state
her majesty was. I desired him not to stir
from Edinburgh; if of that sickness she
should die, I would be the first man that
should bring him news of it.
“The queen grew worse and worse,
because she would be so, none about her
being able to persuade her to go to bed.
My lord admiralt was sent for (who, by
reason of my sister's death, that was his

* Of the chambers.

f. Protestants and papists unanimously

against it.

wife, had absented himself some fortnight
from court) what by fair means, what by
force, he got her to bed. There was no
hope of her recovery, because she refused
all remedies.
“On Wednesday, the 23d of March,
she grew speechless That afternoon, by
signs, she called for her council, and by put-
ting her hand to her head, when the king
of Scots was named to succeed her, they
all knew he was the man she desired
should reign after her.
“About six at night she made signs for
the archbishops and her chaplains to come
to her, at which time"I went in with them,
and sat upon my knees full of tears to see
that heavy sight. Her majesty lay upon her
back, with one hand in the bcd, and the
other without. The bishop knceled down
by her, and examined her first of her faith;
and she so punctually answered all his se-
veral questions, by lifting up her eyes, and
holding up her hand, as it was a comfort to
all the beholders. Then the good man told
her plainly what she was, and what she
was to come to; and though she had been
long a great queen here upon earth, yet
shortly she was to yield an account of her
stewardship to the King of kings. After
this he began to pray, and all that were by
did answer him. After he had continued
long in prayer, till the old man’s knees
were weary, he blessed her, and meant to
rise and leave her. The queen made a sign
with her hand. My sister Scroops knowing
her meaning, told the bishop the queen
desired he would pray still. He did so for

allowed his right; not a murmur arose

# Charles Howard, earl of Nottingham, married to Catherine, eldest daughter of

Henry, lord Hunsdon.

| The sign here mentioned, is a true and indisputable fact, otherwise it would not

have been inserted by the plain, sincere, and ingenious author of these Memoirs, who was present at the time the sign was made. But still it remains a doubt whether the queen intended it for a sign or not. The lords present pretended to think it one. Orrery. So my lord Orrery. But it is plain from her repeated signs to the bishop to continue his devotions, that Elizabeth knew the import of her motions. And whom could she have thought of destining to be her successour, but the king of Scotland 2 E. § John Whitgift, archbishop of Canterbury. He was highly esteemed by queen Elizabeth for his sense, learning, and piety The queen, who was particularly wary what concessios she made, and to whom she granted them, allowed archbishop Whitgift, in the year 1579 [then bishop of W.;the power of bestowing the prebends of his church on such persons as he thought fit, which disposal before this time had not been in the nomination of the bishop, but of the crown; nor did she now give away the right of such disposal to him and his successours, but only as a particular favour to himself, during his continuance in that see. And in the year 1580, the nomination of justices of the peace for Worcestershire and Warwickshire was left to his discretion. Such a confidence did the queen repose in the wisdom and integrity of this bishop.–See the Lives of the Arch*ishops. * Philadelphia, lady Scroop, second daughter of Henry Cary, lord Hunsdon.

a long half hour after, and then thought to leave her. The second time she made sign to have him continue in prayer.— He did so for half an hour more, with earnest cries to God for her soul’s health, which he uttered with that fervency of spirit, as the queen, to all our sight, much rejoiced thereat, and gave testimony to us all of her Christian and comfortable end. By this time it grew late, and every one departed, all but her women that attended her. “This that I heard with my ears, and did see with my eyes, I thought it my duty to set down, and to affirm it for a truth, upon the faith of a Christian; because I know there have been many false lies reported of the end and death of that good lady. “I went to my lodging, and left word with one in the cofferer's chamber to call me, if that night it was thought she would die, and gave the porter an angel to let me in at any time when I called. Between one and two of the clock on Thursday morning, he that I left in the cofferer's chamber, brought me word the queen was dead.* I rose and made all haste to the gate to get in. There I was answered, H could not enter; the lords of the council having been with him, and commanded him that none should go in or out, but by warrant from them. At the very instant, one of the council (the comptroller) asked whether I was at the gate. I said, yes. He said to me, if I pleased he would let me in. I desired to know how the queen did. He answered, pretty well. I bade him good night. He replied, and said, sir, if you will come in, H will give you my word and credit you shall go out again at your own pleasure. Upon his word, I entered the gate, and came up to the cofferer’s chamber, where I found all the ladies weeping bitterly. He led me from thence to the privy chamber, where all the council was assembled; there I was caught hold of, and assured I should not go for Scotland,

till their pleasures were farther known. I told them I came of purpose to that end. From thence they all went to the secretary's chamber; and as they went, they gave a special command to the porters, that none should go out of the gates, but such servants as they should send to prepare their coaches and horses for iondon. There was I left in the midst of the court to think my own thoughts till they had done council. I went to my brother'sf chamber, who was in bed, having been overwatched many nights before. I got him up with all speed, and when the council's men were going out of the gate. My brother thrust to the gate. The porter, knowing him to be a great officer, let him out. I pressed after him, and was stayed by the porter. My brother said angrily to the porter: “Let him out, I will answer for him.” Whereupon I was suffered to pass, which I was not a little glad of. “I got to horse, and rode to the knight marshal's lodging, by Charing Cross, and there stayed till the lords came to Whitehall garden. I staid there till it was nine o'clock in the morning, and hearing that all the lords were in the old orchard at Whitehall; I sent the marshal to tell them that I had staid all that while to know their pleasures, and that I would attend them if they would command me any service. They were very glad when they heard I was not gone, and desired the marshal to send for me, and I should with all speed be despatched for Scotland. The marshal believed them, and sentsir Arthur Savage for me. I made haste to them. One of the council (my lord of Banbury; that now is) whispered the marshal in the ear, and told him, if I came they would stay me, and send some other in my stead. The marshal got from them, and met me coming to them between the two gates. He bade me begone, for he had learned, for certain, that if I came to them, they would betray Ine. “I returned, and took horse between

* She died March 24, soon after the archbishop had left her, about three o’clock in

the morning.

f George Lord Hunsdon, a privy counsellor, captain of the Band of Pensioners, Governour of the Isle of Wight, and Knight of the Garter.—Orrery.

He was a gallant and high spirited gentleman. In 1570 he attended the earl of Essex, in an invasion of Scotland, directed against queen Mary’s partisans, on which occasion, he received the honour of knighthood. In the same expedition, he distinguished himself, by sending a cartel, or challenge, to lord Fleming, the governour of i)unbarton castle. Their correspondence may be found in Hollinshed, ad annum, 1570. E.

# William Knolles. He was treasurer of the household to queen Elizabeth. He was raised to high honours by James I, was made master of the wards, and knight of the garter. He was created earl of Banbury, by Charles I. in the second year of that king's reign, probably the year when these memoirs were put together.

nine and ten o’clock,” and that night rode to Doncaster. The Friday night, I came to my own house at Witherington, and presently took order with my deputies to see the borders kept in quiet, which they had much to do; and gave order the next morning, the king of Scotland should be proclaimed king of England, and at Morpeth and Alnwick. Very early on Saturday, I took horse for Edinburgh, and came to Norham about twelve at noon, so that I might well have been with the king at supper time. But I got a great fall by the way; and my horse, with one of his heels, gave me a great blow on the head, that made me shed much blood. It made me so weak, that I was forced to ride a soft pace after, so that the king was newly gone to bed by the time that I knocked at the gate.f. I was quickly let in, and carried up to the king's chamber. I kneeled by him, and saluted him by his title of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland. He gave me his hand to kiss, and bade mé welcome. After he had long discoursed of the manner of the queen's sickness, and of her death, he asked what letters I had from the council. I told him, none; and acquainted him how narrowly I escaped from them. And yet I had brought him a blue ring from a fair lady, that I hoped would give him assurance of the truth that I had reported. He took it, and looked upon it, and said: ‘It is enough. I know by this you are a true messenger.” Then he committed me to the charge of my lord Hume, and gave straight command that I should want nothing. He sent for his chirurgeons to attend me; and when I kissed his hand at my departure, he said to me these gracious words: ‘I know you have lost a near kinswoman, and a loving mistress; but take here my hand: I will be as good a master to you, and will requite this service with honour and reward.” “So I left him that night, and went with my lord Hume to my lodging, where I had all things fitting for so weary a man

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# This interview is particularly mentioned by

as I was. After my head was drest, I took leave of my lord, and many others that attended me, and went to my rest. “The next morning, by ten o’clock, my

lord Hume was sent to me from the king, to know how I had rested; and withal said, that his majesty commanded him to know of me, what it was that I desired most that he should do for me; bade me ask, and it should be granted. I desired my lord to say to his majesty, from me, that I had no reason to importune him, for any suit, for that I had not as yet done him any service. But my humble request to his majesty was, to admit me a gentleman of his bedchamber; and, hereafter, I knew, if his majesty saw me worthy, I should not want to taste of his bounty. My loid returned this answer, that he sent me word back: “With all his heart, I should have my request.’ And the next time I came to court (which was some four days af. ter) at night, I was called into his bedchamber, and there by my lord of Richmond, in his presence, I was sworn one of the gentlemen of his bedchamber, and presently I helped to take off his clotlies, and stayed till he was in bed. After this, there come daily, gentlenen and noblemen from our court; and the king set down a fixed day for his departure towards London.)”

Here we must take our leave of this highly interesting volume. We have read it through with great pleasure, and recommend it to those who wish to be told the character of a court and sovereign, which are still our boast, depicted in colours which truth herself seems to have applied. To the work of Cary is added, sir Robert Naunton's Fragmenta IRegalia, which likewise tends to illustrate the same period of our history.

Francis Osborne, esq. in his tradi

tional, or rather satirical meitorials of James I. | Lodowick Stewart, duke of Richmond and Lennox, a relation to Jan es I. by whom he was much, and most deservedly, regard d, 'cing a noble too of an excellert cha

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§ He left Edinburgh April 5, and was a month in his journey; hunting and feasting

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London; being a complete Guide to the British Capital; containing an accurate and succinct Account of its Origin, Rise, and Progress, the Increase and Extent of its Buildings, its Commerce, Curiosities, Exhibitions, Amusements, Publick Calamities, Religious and Charitable Foundations, Literary Establishments, Learned and Scientifick Institutions, &c. &c. Interspersed with a variety of Original Anecdotes, Eccentrick Biography, Critical Remarks, &c. &c. Faithfully abridged from Mr. Pennant's London, and brought down to the present year. By John Wallis, 12mo,


TO this compilation we give our unqualified approbation. We have read it with pleasure and with instruction. It is judiciously and faithfully abridged, from Pennant's larger work, and contains, besides, much new matter. There is nothing of any importance that is omitted; and, as it is neatly printed, and cheaply published, we may confidently expect that it will meet with such approbation from the publick as it assuredly deserves.

As a specimen of the manner in which it is compiled, we will extract the account of Topham, which contains particulars not very generally known, and will interest most readers in the perusal:

“Cold Bath Fields, in this vicinity, was likewise chosen for a singular exhibition of bodily strength. Topham, about threescore years ago, generally known by the name of the strong man, kept a publick house, the sign of the apple tree, at no reat distance from Cold Bath Fields, in 1741, and chose that spot to exhibit one of his feats, viz. lifting three hogsheads of water, weighing 1836 pounds, upon a kind of scaffold, as it was then said, in honour of admiral Vernon, on account of his taking Porto Bello with six ships only. Topham was then so confident of lifting these hogsheads, that he wanted three children to stand under them at the time; but this the populace would not permit, though he performed the undertaking with ease. “Topham was then about thirty one, in the prime of life “The first publick feat performed by Topham, of much motoriety, viz, his pulling against a horse, was in the neighbourhood where he then lived, viz Moorfields; neither was it against stumps that he put

his feet, but against the dwarf wall dividing Upper from Lower Moorfields. He af. terwards pulled against two horses; but as his legs were placed horizontally, instead of rising parallel to the traces of the horses, he was jerked from his seat, and had one of his knees much bruised and hurt; whereas, it was the opinion of Dr. Desaguliers, that had he been in a proper position, he might have kept his situation against the pulling of four horses, without the least inconvenience. “The feats which Dr. Desaguliers says he himself saw him perform, are as follow: “By the strength of his fingers he rolled up a very strong and large pewter dish. He broke seven or eight short pieces of a tobacco pipe by the force of his middle finger, having laid them on his first and third finger. Having thrust the bowl of a strong tobacco pipe under his garter, his legs being bent, he broke it to pieces by the tendons of his hams, without altering the bending of his legs. Another bowl of this kind he broke between his first and second finger, by pressing them together sideways. He lifted a table with his teeth six feet long, with half a hundred weight hanging at the end of it, holding it in a horizontal position a considerable time. “He took an iron kitchen poker, about a yard long, and three inches round, and struck upon his bare left arm, between the elbow and the wrist, till he bent the poker nearly to a right angle. “With such another poker, holding the ends of it in his hands, and the middle of it against the back of his neck, he brought both ends of it together before him; and what was yet more difficult, he pulled it almost straight again. “He broke a rope of two inches circumference, though, in consequence of his awkward manner, he was obliged to exert four times more strength than was necessary. “He lifted a rolling stone of eight hundred pounds weight, with his hands only,

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