When I came to our house and showed my face at my window, the mistress greeted me most kind.

She offered me a dish of broth and a morsel of cheese.

Then she called the master, and both nosed my fur.  They cried, “Gun smoke!” and marvelled that I’d been so near the trouble that day.

I told them nowt.

I lay beside Linkin and Wattie our dog to warm myself, and they also nosed me.

“I’ve trod the leads [roof] of Essex House,” sayt I, “and defied the soldiers of the Queen.”

They were fire-hot to hear more, but I was wearie.  I sayt I would pass the morrow resting, and when Onix came by we would make a true account for all to hear.

Sir Rabbit was swifter than we.  He struck like a venomous worm [snake].

First, the Proclamation of Treason was printed and sent all about the town.

It sayt that the Earl of Essex, with the Earl of Rutland (I knew him not) and the Earl of Southampton and their complices, had imprisoned Her Majestie’s councillors, threatened to kill them, and traitorously issued into the citie.  Where they killed Her Majestie’s subjects, etcetera.

“I think Her Majestie’s subjects killed more than we did,” sayt I to Linkin.

“They was not rebels,” sayt Linkin.

This fool Proclamation ended with Her Majestie’s thanks to her loyal citizens.  And a request that they lay hands on any who spread slanders against the government, for the rebels probably had instruments in sundrie places.

“Instruments?” I arrkst Linkin. “What means Sir Rabbit by that?”

“The likes of you,” sayt Linkin.

I never was named an Instrument before.

Next we heared from the master that Sir Rabbit had sent a copy of the Proclamation to a governor in Ireland, with a letter that sayt: By the time you receive this, Essex, Southampton, and others will have lost their heads.

“So there’ll be no honorable trial,” sayt I to Linkin.

“There can be but one verdick from a treason trial,” sayt he.  “Honorable or not.”

Then we heared that Sir Rabbit had spake against Essex most fierce.

He sayt Essex had devised to make hisself King of England these 5 or 6 years past.  And he’d conspired with the Irish arch-rebel Tire-Own to make away with the Queen’s loyal servants (Sir Rabbit and friends) and govern her hisself.

Then he meant to take her place and send for Tire-Own to bring his army of kerns over to England to prey on us all.

I sayt, “If that’s the best Sir Rabbit can do, any trial will be a comedie.  And he knows nowt of the plat we hatcht at Drury House, so I’m safe.”

“For the present,” sayt Linkin. “But the examinations have begun.  Certes, some will sing most sweet to save their necks.”

And off he went with his Essex committy (his law cat friend, and Onix too) to make their report to Paws’ parlement.

So my heroick tale was told by a ruddy clown too fat to sit well in a tree, and a perfumed popinjay who did nowt at Essex House but bepiss hisself beneath a table.

I did not go with them.  Onlie Members were permit to speak and I was not a Member.

I did not care.  I was now an Instrument.

I slipped into the master’s study, and wrote a letter to Queen Puss on behalf of her loyal and loving subjects.

I warned her to beware of all the venomous worms, wolves and foxes that pass for Rabbits in her realm and prey upon us silly sheep that do love her so well.

And I wrote on the paper, “Deliver me into the hands of our most gracious and noble Queen,” and cast it from the window.  There was a fair wind for Westminster.

Then I bethought me of Scabface, who’d set forth to White-Hall after we’d interrogated that sly Player Cat.

Where was Scabface?  He’d missed all the actions.  I feared he would think I’d sent him on a fool’s mission, and return full of wroth.

---

The exact number killed during the rebellion isn’t certain.  Definitely one on either side at the skirmish near the Ludgate.  A couple of “idle gazers” may also have been killed, presumably by musket fire from the small force that halted Essex there.

Four more died during the siege of Essex House.  One account has it that Captain Owen Salusbury/Salisbury – a loyal follower of Essex – committed suicide by sniper, intentionally showing himself at a window.  One of the Earl of Southampton’s servants was killed, possibly in the courtyard when Lord Burghley’s men broke down the gate, as were two of Lord Burghley’s men.

Sir Robert Cecil’s inflammatory statement of 13 February 1601 (as summarised in the Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Series 1598-1601) wasn’t his finest effort.  He combined a shrewd but damning assessment of Essex’s character (i.e. no matter what Essex got, he always wanted more) with accusations of religious hypocrisy and double dealing.  Then he reverted to John Hayward’s book about Henry IV and the deposition of Richard II, maintaining Essex meant to depose the Queen.  Did he believe all he said?

But one way or another, Essex had to go.

Tricks’ letter may have gone further than her previous attack on Sir Robert Cecil did.  There’s one in similar vein among the Cecil papers.  Lots of animal imagery, but no mention of Rabbits.  I suspect some fellow malcontent found her letter, rewrote it, and sent it on.