The following deeply interesting "complaynt" was written by Richard Williams, and dedicated, in MS., to King James the First. It remained unpublished until 1862, when it was communicated to "The Reliquary" by Mr. W. Durrant Cooper, F.S.A. Anthony Babington was born in 1561, and on the death of his father, succeeded to the family estates at Dethick, in Derbyshire, which had been acquired by the Babingtons through marriage with the heiress of Dethick. He was executed, along with thirteen others, under circumstances of peculiar barbarity, on the 20th of September, 1586, for a conspiracy to liberate the truly unfortunate and much to be commiserated Mary Queen of Scots. His petition to Queen Elizabeth is simple and touching in the extreme, and the heart must indeed have been callous to good and womanly feeling that could withstand it and spurn its prayer. It is as follows:—[83]
What will it avayle on fortune to exclayme
When a due desarte is chiefest cause of all;
Myself and none but myselfe justlie can I blame,
That thus have procured myne untymelie fall;
And turned have my honnye swete unto bitter gall.
Wherefore good frende take thie penne and write,
And in mournful verse my Tragedie recite.
Long mighte I have lived a contented happie state,
And have borne a porte and countnance with the beste,
If fortune should me cheicke, I could her mate;
Thus none like me more happie was and bleste,
Till that discontente procured myne unreste;
And the pompe of pride so glared in myne eyen,
That I rejected vertue moste devyne.
But firste I will tell thee myne estate, and name,
And contrie soile, where I was bredd and borne;
Anthonie Babington I hight; of a worthy house I came,
Till my mysdemeanours made me forlorne,
Givinge cause to my foes to laugh me to scorne.
Whoe have stayned my state and blemisht my name,
In clymbing by follie have falne to my shame.
At Dethwicke in Darbye shire I was both borne and bredd;
My father was an esquier of good reputation;
A good house he kepte, a virtuose life he ledd;
My selfe beinge a childe was helde in estimation;
But havinge gott the rayne I changed my facion;
Then privatlie I sought my owne will and pleasure,
Livinge to my liking, but never kepte a measure.
Doctour Babington myne eame[85] did pronosticate
That harde was the happe whereto I was borne,
He sayde that "pride by glorye shoulde abate
And destenye decreede I shoulde be folorne;"
Whose wordes my father then helde in scorne,
"O trayne him up well," mine unkell did saye,
"Unlesse hee repente the same a nother daye."
"Give hym not brother his libertie in youthe,
For then olde dayes hee never shall see,
Hee is my nephewe the more is my rewthe,
To think of his happe and harde destinie,
If skill beguyle me not hanged he shalbe."
This was the foresight of my father's brother,
For which lote of his hee was hated by my mother.
I know not where hee spoke by hassarde or skill,
For such divinations I doe not comende;
Yet his counsell was good to flie future ill;
For whoe so in vertue there dayes doe not spende
Shalbe sure with me repente them in th' ende.
The proofe of myne unkells worde I founde so trewe
As by the sequell hereafter you may viewe.
Not longe after my father resyned upp his breathe,
And lefte my wofull mother with a great charge;
Whiche proved for us all to tymelie a deathe;
For then good gentelwoman her purse ranne at large,
Havinge of debts and legacies great somes to discharge;
But in the state of widowhode not long she tarried
For with that good gentleman Henry Foljambe she married.
Whoe loved us all tenderlie as wee had benne his owne,
And was verye carefull of oure education,
Whose love so mee was diverse wayes showne,
And I of the saime had daylie probation,
And by this maye appeare of whiche I make narration.
Withe his owne chaine of golde hee would mee oftene decke
Whiche made me a proud boye to weare about my necke.
As on a tyme this chayne about my necke I did weare,
And going to an orcharde some apples to gett,
When clymbing a high tree, as one without feare,
The boughe then brake, whereon my foote I sett,
And downwarde I slipt, but was caught in a nett.
In the tree I was hanged faste by the chayne,
So desyre of my pride was cause of my payne.
But was not suffered there longe to hang,
But was nere strangled or I was taken downe,
For there I strugled with suche a deadlie pange;
My mother shee frighted and fell in a sowne,
And griefe made my father likewise to frowne.
But my reviving, there sorrowes over caste;
Then they rejoyeste sayinge, "my destinie was paste."
Thus carelesse a tyme with them I lived at pleasure,
Surfetted with self will and with fonde delite;
I knew no golden meane, nor never kepte a measure,
But like a kyndlie beare gan tymelie to byte.
Even then I harborde envye and sucked despite;
And pride at that instante tooke so deepe a roote,
That humilitie for ever was troden under foote.
In myne noneage I was when my father dyde,
Philip Draycott, of Paynslie hee did me obtayne,
Whoe had appoynted me his doughter for my bryde,
And in whose house a space I did remayne;
There suckte I pleasure that proved to my payne;
There was I misled in papistre my soul to wounde;
There was I corrupted made rotten and unsounde.
There, even there awhile, I spente my youthfull tyme,
There was I lulled in securitie faste asleepe,
Then was I frollicke, there was I in my pryme,
In jollitie then I laught, but never thought to weepe;
My witts were moste fynne and conceits verye depe.
But oh Paynslie! Paynslie! I may thee curse;
Where nature made me ill, education made me worse.
For by nature I was with papistrie infected,
But might have beene restrayned, had it pleased God;
My father and myne eame they weare suspected;
They lived with there censcience wherein I was odd,
Therefore was beaten with a more sharper rodd;
There conscience they kepte, & ruled it by reason;
Livinge like subjectes, and still detested treason.
My father-in-lawe still ledd me to what I was inclined;
I meane for my conscience, no farther he coulde deale;
My mayntnance sufficient to content my mynde,
So that all this, whiche I tasted, nought but weale,
But could not be contente, which I muste nowe reveale.
My fynne head was desyrouse to studye the lawe,
In attainge whereof I proved my selfe a dawe.
And for that cause forthwith I to London wente,
Where in Lyncolns Inne a student I became;
And there some part of my flittinge tyme I spente,
But to bee a good lawyer my mynde coulde not frame;
I addicted was to pleasure and given so to game;
But to the theater and curtayne woulde often resorte,
Where I mett companyons fittinge my disporte.
Companyons, quothe you, I had companyons in deede,
Suche as in youthe with me weare well content to drawe;
Lyncked so in myscheife, wherein wee did excede,
We cared not for order nor paste of reasons lawe;
Of God, nor of good man, wee stoode in little awe.
Wee paste the bounds of modestie, and lived without shame,
Wee spotted our conscience, and spoiled our good name.
We cared not for the church, that place we not frequented;
The tavernes weere better our humors to fitt.
The companye of dayntie dames, wee chieflie invented;
With whom in dalliance wee desyred ofte to sitt.
Theise weare the fruytes of yonge hedds and witt;
Thus in lustlie libertie I led a loose life,
And thoughe I weare maried I cared not for my wife.
Yett to the sÈrmons wee woulde oftene resorte,
Not in hope edification by them to obtayne;
But rather to jeste and make of them a sporte;
Whiche nowe I feele to my sorrowe griefe and payne;
These bee the fruytes that sicophantes doe gayne,
Cheiflie when they mocke, and skorne God's worde,
Disdaining the servantts and prophetts of the Lorde.
With Catholicks still conversant I coveted to be,
That weare alwayes in hope and looked for a daye;
Gapinge for a change which wee trusted to see.
Ambition so stonge me my selfe I could not staye,
Whiche makes me sighes to sighe well a waye.
Then I had my will and playde with pleasure's ball,
Then I was alofte and feared not this fall.
Yett so covertlie all this tyme I did my selfe behave,
And so closelie wrought in subtell syners faime,
What so ere I thought my selfe I sought to save,
Livinge all this while without suspecte or blame;
And more to wynne mee credditt a courtier I becaime;
Where the syrens song so swetelie I did synge,
I never was suspected to worke such a thinge.
The nobles of the courte of me thoughte so well,
That often to their tables they would me invite;
Where in gesture and talke I did the common sorte excell;
Thereby wynninge favor in my company to delite,
Whiche with a Judas kisse I soughte to requyte.
As in a sequell of my storye will after appeare,
Which I shame to tell it toucheth me so nere.
And daylie more and more my credditt did increase,
And so in like manner did pride still abounde;
Beloved I was bothe of more and lesse;
When my inwarde motions were all unsounde;
My parsonage was comelie which favour eache where founde;
But pryde had so blynded me I could not see.
That with Iccarus aloft, I mynded was to flee.
The grounde, that I troade on, my feet could not holde,
Nor I bee contente in a happie state to reste,
Like Bayarde that blushed not, then was I more bolde;
When rancor inwardlie still boyled in my breste,
That like an unnaturall birde I filed my neste;
In parlinge with parasites that looked for a daye,
By the counsell of Caterpillers, I wrought my decaye.
Then I beganne to prie into matters of the state,
And with what I liked nott I secrett faulte did fynde;
Where I fawned openlie, I inwardlie did hate,
And to my confederates would closelie breake my mynde;
I mean to suche as to my love weare inclynde;
Betweene whome and mee suche mischiefe intented,
That we thoughte to have made all England repented.
Where upon in to France a jorney I did frame,
To parle with Padgett, Morgan, and others of that crewe;
What wee had but decrede, they resolved on the same;
Whose pretended purpose at large, when I knewe,
I willinglie consented too, which makes mee nowe to rewe;
And to sett the same forwarde a solleme oathe did take;
O cursed conscience that a traytor didst me make!
Then into Englande I retorned agayne with spede,
And gott conferrence hereof with some of greate fame.
Manye weare the plotts, whereon we agreed;
And greate the attemptes, whereat wee did aime;
Which afterwarde proved oure ruynose shaime;
And aspiringe pride so fyred my harte,
I was content to playe a traytors parte.
