The Great Lord Burghley: A study in Elizabethan statecraft
David Hume · en
The next morning when Davison entered the Queen’s room at Greenwich
she was chatting with Ralegh, and told the Secretary that she had
dreamed the previous night that the Queen of Scots was executed, which
made her very angry. It was a good thing, she said, that Davison was
not near her at the time. This frightened Davison, and he asked her
whether she really did not wish the warrant executed. With an oath
she said she did, but again repeated what she had said the previous
day about the responsibility, and “another way of doing it.” A day or
so afterwards, Davison informed the Queen that Paulet had indignantly
refused Walsingham’s suggestion to poison Mary, whereupon she broke into
complaints of the “daintiness of these precise fellows,” and violently
denounced people who professed to love and defend her, but threw all
responsibility upon her.
On the 8th February the tragedy of Fotheringay was consummated, and in
the afternoon of the 9th young Talbot brought the news to London. Lord
Burghley at once summoned Davison, and after consulting with Hatton and
others, it was decided not to tell the Queen suddenly. When she learnt
it later in the day the well-prepared blow fell upon Davison. The Queen
pretended to be infuriated, swore that she had never intended to have the
warrant divulged, and whilst blaming all the Councillors,[539] threw
most of the onus upon Davison. The Council advised him to retire from
court, and he was soon afterwards cast into the Tower and degraded from
his office. After a long and tedious trial and a painful imprisonment, he
was condemned to a fine sufficient to ruin him, and thenceforward lived
in poverty and obscurity. The Earl of Essex fought manfully in his favour
whilst he lived, but Lord Burghley and the rest of the Councillors were
too strong for him, and the man they had ruined was never allowed to
raise his head again.[540]