When Robert Devereaux, Earl of Essex, the far-famed favourite of Queen Elizabeth, was in the hey-day of his power and her majesty’s regard, the queen presented him with a diamond ring, which she ordered him to keep with the strictest care, so that should he at any time want to beg a boon, or be so unfortunate as to fall under her majesty’s displeasure, and thus incur imminent danger from the malevolence of his enemies, he might return it to her as a talisman, when she pledged her word to accede to his request, or forgive him, and grant him her protection.[76] It is unnecessary to enter into the various circumstances which led to the downfall of this accomplished young nobleman; suffice it to say, that, led astray by self-interested flatterers, and his own headstrong passions, which scorned reproof, the Earl of Essex engaged in a conspiracy against her majesty, and which being detected, he was tried by his compeers, and condemned to pay forfeit of his crimes, by suffering decollation. Queen Elizabeth, although deeply grieved at this defalcation of her kinsman from his loyalty, as well as from his gratitude towards her, still remembered with pity the unfortunate earl, then in the full bloom of manhood, and celebrated for every grace which can adorn a nobleman, and anxiously looked for the appearance of the ring she had given to him, in order that some excuse might be afforded her for granting him a pardon. Days, however, rolled by, and Essex made no appeal to her majesty’s clemency; until, at length, deeming him too haughty to return the talismanic jewel which might have saved his life, Elizabeth became incensed against him— the high blood of her father, “bluff old Hal,” rose in her veins, and, signing his death-warrant, he was beheaded on Tower Hill, 25th Feb. 1601. About two years after this tragic event, Catharine, the first Duchess of Nottingham, (daughter of Henry Lord Hunsdon, and a relative of the unfortunate earl,) was seized with a mortal illness, and finding her life drawing to a close, she despatched a messenger to the queen, beseeching her majesty to visit her immediately, as she had tidings to communicate to her, which, without doing, she could not die in peace. Elizabeth, anxious to soothe her last moments, complied with her request, and, little deeming what those tidings were, presented herself at the bed-side of the dying countess, who, summoning up all her failing energies, related, in the hollow tones of death, the following circumstances:—