CHAPTER VII 1564-1566

The efforts that had been made by the English Council to benefit native commerce had caused much apprehension amongst the Flemish merchants, who had for many years practically monopolised the English export trade. The English Company of Merchant-Adventurers had agitated and petitioned the Queen and Council to discountenance the foreign merchants; and as a result, a series of enactments was passed which gave considerable trade advantages to Englishmen. Differential duties, compulsory priority given to English bottoms for the export trade, the imposition of harassing disabilities and penalties on foreign merchants established in London, together with the great increase of piracy owing to the extensive shipbuilding of recent years in England, had greatly disorganised Flemish trade. During 1563 and early in 1564, several envoys had been sent from Spanish Flanders to endeavour to obtain a reversal of the new commercial policy, but without effect. This caused reprisals on the part of the Spanish Government, which prohibited the introduction of English cloth into Flanders and the exportation of raw material from Flanders to England, as well as the employment of English ships for Flemish exports. In retaliation, a more stringent order was issued in England forbidding trade with Flanders altogether, and the establishment of a new staple at Embden. The seizure of English goods and subjects in Spain itself was the answer to this. Naturally,[152] people on both sides suffered severely by this commercial warfare.[196] Emissaries went backwards and forwards between Flanders and England, partial relaxations were temporarily arranged, conferences were held; but the main difficulty continued until Antwerp was well-nigh ruined, and the Spaniards were obliged to humble themselves in order to prevent a commercial catastrophe. The day, indeed, had gone by now for hectoring England. The old Bishop of Aquila had died bankrupt, abandoned, and broken-hearted—Cecil’s object-lesson of the impotence of Spain—and a very different Ambassador had been sent, whose main duty it was to keep Elizabeth friendly, and to end, at almost any cost, the commercial war which was ruining Flanders.

Guzman de Silva arrived in London in June 1564. He was amiable and courtly, flattered the Queen to the top of her bent, and was soon a prime favourite. At his first interview at Richmond she showed off her Latin and Italian, coyly led the talk to her personal appearance, blushingly hinted at love and marriage in general, Cecil being all the while close to her side.[197] As soon as the compliments and embraces were ended and Guzman was alone, a great friend of Dudley’s sought him out with a message from the favourite, informing him “of the great enmity that exists between Cecil and Lord Robert, even before this book about the succession was published; but now very much more, as he believes Cecil to be the author of the book; and the Queen is extremely angry about it, although she signifies that there are so[153] many accomplices in the offence that they must overlook it, and has begun to slacken in the matter.[198] The person has asked me with great secrecy to take an opportunity of speaking to the Queen (or to make such an opportunity), to urge her without fail to adopt strong measures in this business; because if Cecil were out of the way, the affairs of your Majesty would be more favourably dealt with, and religious questions as well; for this Cecil and his friends are those who persecute the Catholics and dislike your Majesty, whereas the other man (i.e. Dudley) is looked upon as faithful, and the rest of the Catholics so consider him, and have adopted him as their weapon. If the Queen would consent to disgrace Cecil, it would be a great good to them, and this man tried to persuade me to make use of Robert.”[199] Guzman was cautious, for he knew what had happened to his predecessor; but this will show that Dudley was determined to stick at nothing to destroy, if possible, the man who, almost alone, was the obstacle to his ambition. He was liberal in his professions and promises to the Spaniard, whom he urged to ask for audience as much as possible through him, instead of through Cecil. His friends assured Guzman that he still expected to marry the[154] Queen, and had an understanding with the Pope; that the Catholic religion would be restored in England if the marriage were brought about, and much more to the same effect.[200]

The reason for this new move on the part of Dudley is not very far to seek. The defection of Condé and the collapse of the Protestants in France had been seized upon by Cardinal Lorraine and the dominant Catholics to force Catharine de Medici into a renewal of the negotiations for a league with Philip to extirpate Protestantism. Already the meeting had been arranged between Catharine and her daughter, the Queen of Spain, at Bayonne, which was to cement the close alliance. Catholicism was everywhere in the ascendant, and the clouds appeared to be gathering over England; for there was no combination so threatening for her as this. Hitherto Cecil had always counted upon the jealousy between France and Spain to prevent the domination of England by either power; but with the French Protestants prostrate and a close union between a Guisan France and Catholic Spain, all safeguards would disappear, and Mary Stuart would be able to count upon the support of the whole Catholic world, in which case the position of Elizabeth and the Anglican Church was, indeed, a critical one.

As we have seen, Dudley cared nothing for all this, even if he was able to appreciate its gravity. If he could only force or cajole the Queen to marry him, the religion of England might be anything his supporters chose. He knew well that Cecil, with his broad and moderate views,[155] would try to conjure away the danger and disarm Catholic Spain, whilst safeguarding religion, by again bringing forward the Archduke with some sort of compact founded on the Lutheran compromise in Germany. But Spain and the Catholics, though they might have accepted such a solution, were not enthusiastic about it; and Dudley, by going the whole length and promising Spain everything, thought to outbid Cecil and spoil the Archduke’s chance, whilst diverting Spanish support from Mary Stuart to himself.

In the autumn of 1563 the Duke of Wurtemburg, at the prompting of the English agent, had approached the Emperor to propose a renewal of the Archduke’s negotiation. Ferdinand was cool: nominally the first monarch in Christendom, and a son of the proud House of Austria, he did not relish being taken up and dropped again as often as suited English politics, and he demanded all sorts of assurances before he would act. The Duke of Wurtemburg secretly sent an agent to see Cecil early in 1564 without the Emperor’s knowledge, and satisfied himself that Elizabeth was neither a Calvinist nor a Zwinglian, and would accept the confession of Augsburg. This was satisfactory; but before anything more could be done, Ferdinand died (July 1564). When he conveyed the news to Cecil, Mundt, the English agent, proposed that he should be allowed to reopen the question of marriage with the new Emperor Maximilian, through the Duke of Wurtemburg. “He” (Mundt) “knows,” he says, “that the Queen is so modest and virtuous that she will not do anything that shall seem like seeking a husband. But as the matter is most vital to the whole Christian world, he thinks that Cecil should not be restrained by any narrow and untimely modesty; for he, holding the administration of the kingdom, ought to strive to preserve the tranquillity thereof by insuring a perpetual succession.”

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Cecil and Mundt understood each other thoroughly; but the Secretary’s answer was intended for the eyes of others, and was cautious. “With regard to her Majesty’s inclinations on the subject of her marriage, he can with certainty say nothing; than that he perceives that she would rather marry a foreign than a native prince, and that the more distinguished the suitor is by birth, power, and personal attractions, the better hope he will have of success. Moreover, he cannot deny that the nobleman who, with them, excites considerable expectation, to wit Lord Robert, is worthy to become the husband of the Queen. The fact of his being her Majesty’s subject, however, will prove a serious objection to him in her estimation. Nevertheless, his virtues and his excellent and heroic gifts of mind and body have so endeared him to the Queen, that she could not regard her own brother with greater affection. From which they who do not know the Queen intimately, conjecture that he will be her future husband. He, however, sees and understands that she merely takes delight in his virtues and rare qualities, and that nothing is more discussed in their conversation than that which is most consistent with virtue, and furthest removed from all unworthy sentiments.” It is not surprising that Cecil has endorsed the draft of this letter, “written to Mr. Mundt by the Queen’s command.”

Mundt worked hard, but there were many obstacles in the way. Wurtemburg was in no hurry. The mourning for the late Emperor, and the plague which raged in Germany, delayed matters for months. Once in the interval Cecil wrote to ask Mundt whether it was true that the Archduke’s neck was awry. Mundt could not deny the impeachment, but softened it like a courtier. “Alexander the Great had his neck bent towards the left side; would that our man may be his imitator in magnanimity[157] and bravery. His body is elegant and middle size, more well grown and robust than the Spanish Prince.”[201]

In the autumn Elizabeth sent an envoy to condole with the new Emperor on the death of his father, and simultaneously lost no opportunity of drawing closer to Spain. She coquetted with Guzman, ostentatiously in the face of the French Ambassador. She spoke sentimentally of old times, when her brother-in-law Philip was in England. She was curious to know whether Don Carlos was grown, and manly; and then apparently to force the Ambassador’s hand, she sighed that every one disdained her, and that she heard Don Carlos was to marry the Queen of Scots. Guzman earnestly said that the Prince had been ill, and that such a thing was quite out of the question; which was perfectly true. The Queen’s real object then came out. “Why,” she said, “the gossips in London were saying that the Ambassador had been sent by the King of Spain to offer his son Don Carlos to me!” All this rather undignified courting of Spain succeeded very soon in arousing the jealousy of France, as it was intended to do.

De Foix, the French Ambassador, had kept Catharine de Medici well informed of affairs in England. Catharine was already getting alarmed at being bound hand and foot to the Guises, the Catholics, and Philip. The plan of marrying Mary Stuart to Don Carlos, or his cousin, the Archduke, and the rallying of Leicester to Spain and the Catholics, threatened to dwarf the influence of France, and make Spain irresistible. So the Queen-mother began to hint to Sir Thomas Smith, the Ambassador, that a marriage would be desirable between her son Charles IX., aged fifteen, and Queen Elizabeth, aged thirty-one. Some such suggestion had been made by Condé to Smith during the negotiations which preceded[158] the evacuation of Havre, but it had not been regarded seriously. It was probably no more serious now, but it was the trump card of both Queens, and it served its purpose.

In the meanwhile the plot of Leicester and the Catholics against Cecil went on. The English Catholics came to Guzman, and represented to him that it would be better not to come to any arrangement with the Government about the commercial question, in order that public discontent in England might ripen and an overturn of the present regime be made the easier. But the Flemings were suffering even more than the English from the interruption of trade, and Guzman had strict orders to obtain a settlement of the dispute. So he told the Catholics that the Queen had been obliged to hold her hand, and refrain from punishing Cecil and Bacon, until she had come to an understanding with Philip, and with the English Catholics, through him. She would cling to Cecil and his gang, said Guzman, so long as she thought she had anything to fear from Spain. “All people think that the only remedy for the religious trouble is to get these people turned out of power, as they are the mainstay of the heretics, Lord Robert having the Catholics all on his side.”[202] Dudley was flattered and encouraged with messages and promises from Philip, and laboured incessantly to get rid of Cecil, even for a short time.

In order, apparently, to forward Dudley’s chances of success as a suitor for the hand of Mary Stuart, for which at this time Elizabeth pretended to be anxious, she created him Earl of Leicester and Baron Denbeigh, on Michaelmas day 1564. De Foix, the French Ambassador, intimated two days previously his intention of being present at the splendid festivities which accompanied the ceremony. This was a good opportunity for Cecil to arouse suspicion of the new Earl, and distrust of[159] the French. On the 28th September, accordingly, the Secretary called upon Guzman, and telling him that the French Ambassador would be present at the feast, hinted that Dudley was very friendly with the French; to which the Spaniard replied, that he had always understood that such was the case, and that Dudley’s father was known to be much attached to them. Then “Cecil told me that the Queen had commanded him to visit the Emperor with Throgmorton, and although he had done all in his power to excuse himself from the journey, he had not succeeded. I understand that the artfulness of his rivals has procured this commission for him, in order, in the meantime, to put some one else in his place, which certainly would be a good thing. His wife has petitioned the Queen to let her husband stay at home, as he is weak and delicate. They tell me that this has made the business doubtful, and I do not know for certain what will be done; nor indeed is anything sure here from one hour to another, except the hatching of falsehoods, which always goes on.” Needless to say, Cecil had his way and did not go.

Before many days had passed Leicester sent to Guzman disclaiming any particular friendship with the French, “and said, after his own Queen, there was no prince in the world whom he was so greatly obliged to serve as your Majesty, whose servant he had been, and to whom he owed his life and all he had.” De Foix, he said, had only been present at his feast, because he brought him the Order of St. Michael from the King of France, which he (Leicester) did not wish to accept. Guzman was rather tart about the business, and reminded Leicester’s friend (Spinola) that on the same day that the Queen had invited him (Guzman) to supper, De Foix had dined with her; and when Spinola hinted that Philip might send Leicester the Golden Fleece,[160] Guzman was quite scandalised at the idea of conferring the order on any one not a “publicly professed Catholic.” Altogether it is clear that the Queen’s and Cecil’s clever management was already setting the French and Spanish by the ears; and when they could do that and make them rivals for England’s favour, she was safe.

The next day Guzman was entertained at dinner by Leicester, the Earl of Warwick, Cecil, and others being present; and the Secretary in the course of conversation assured the Spaniard that he was taking vigorous measures to suppress the depredations on shipping, and to restore as much as possible of the merchandise stolen. Already, indeed, Cecil’s diplomacy was righting matters. An active correspondence was going on about the Archduke’s match; the Queen assured Guzman that she had to conceal her real feelings about religion, but that God knew her heart; and even Cecil tried to soften the asperity of the Catholics towards him. “Cecil,” writes Guzman to his King, “tells these heretical bishops to look after their clergy, as the Queen is determined to reform them in their customs, and even in their dress, as the diversity that exists in everything cannot be tolerated.[203] He directs that they should be[161] careful how they treat those of the old faith: to avoid calumniating them or persecuting or harrying them.” The result of this action was that in October 1564, Guzman could write: “I have advised previously that Cecil’s favour had been wavering, but he knows how to please, and avoids saying things the Queen does not wish to hear; and, above all, as I am told, can flatter her, so he has kept his place, and things are now in the same condition as formerly. Robert makes the best of it. The outward demonstrations are fair, but the inner feelings the same as before. I do not know how long they will last. They dissemble; but Cecil has more wit than all of them. Their envy of him is very great.”[204]

Sir James Melvil, a Scotsman brought up in France, was directed to go to London in the autumn of 1564, to watch his mistress’s interests. To him Elizabeth again suggested a marriage between Dudley and “her good sister”; and in reply to his remark that Mary thought that a conference between English and Scottish statesmen should discuss the question first, at which conference the Earl of Bedford and Lord Robert could represent England, Elizabeth told Melvil that he seemed to make a small account of Lord Robert. He should, she said, see him made a far greater Earl than Bedford before he left court. When Dudley was on his knees, shortly afterwards, receiving the investiture of his Earldom, the Queen tickled his neck, and asked Melvil what he thought of him. Melvil gave a courtly answer, whereupon the Queen retorted that he liked that “long lad” (Darnley) better. Melvil scoffed at such an idea, but his main object in coming to England was to intrigue for the “long lad’s” permission to go to Scotland. A few days after this, Leicester took[162] Melvil in his barge from Hampton Court to London, and on the way asked him what Mary thought of the marriage with him, which Randolph had proposed to her. Melvil answered coldly, as his mistress had instructed him to do. “Then he began to purge himself of so proud a pretence as to marry so great a Queen, declaring he did not esteem himself worthy to wipe her shoes; declaring that the invention of that proposition of marriage proceeded from Mr. Cecil, his secret enemy. For if I, says he, should have appeared desirous of that marriage, I should have offended both the Queens and lost their favour.”[205]

Melvil went back to Scotland with all manner of kind messages for his mistress; and Cecil especially was gracious to him, placing a fine gold chain around his neck as he bade him farewell. But when Mary asked her envoy if he thought Elizabeth “meant truly towards her inwardly in her heart, as she appeared to do outwardly in her speech,” he replied that in his judgment “there was neither plain dealing nor upright meaning; but great dissimulation, emulation, envy, and fear lest her princely qualities should chase her from the kingdom, as having already hindered her marriage with the Archduke. It appeared likewise to me, by her offering unto her, with great apparent earnestness, my Lord of Leicester.” Melvil says that Leicester’s humble and artful letters to Mary, and the consequent kindness of the latter, aroused Elizabeth’s fear that after all Mary might marry her favourite, and caused her to consent to Darnley’s visit to Scotland.[206] “Which licence,” he says, “was procured[163] by means of Secretary Cecil, not that he was minded that any of the marriages should take effect, but with such shifts to hold the Queen (Mary) unmarried as long as he could, persuading himself that Lord Darnley durst not proceed in the marriage without consent of the Queen of England first obtained.”[207] Cecil’s task was again an extremely difficult one. He had to keep up an appearance of leaning to the Catholics and the House of Austria, and encourage the idea of Elizabeth’s marriage with the Archduke, in order to prevent the alliance of Mary Stuart with so powerful an interest; he was obliged to keep his own restive Protestant friends in hand; to counteract at every step the intrigues of Leicester against him, and to be ready at any moment to cause a diversion if Leicester’s suit to the Queen looked too serious to be safe.

The replies and recommendations of the bishops to the Council’s circular, referred to in a previous note (page 160), had caused much apprehension amongst Catholics; and the Queen herself, as well as Cecil, assured Guzman that the bishops should do the Catholics no harm; whilst, on the other hand, Cecil’s Protestant friends were urging him to adopt strong measures to prevent the growth of the “Papists.” Cecil’s reply to one such recommendation shows that he was just as ready to wound Leicester underhand as Leicester was him. “He replied that he was doing what he could, but he did not know who was at the Queen’s ear to soften her so, and render her less zealous in this than she ought to be.”[208]

Cecil’s greatest difficulty, indeed, at this time, was from[164] Leicester, who had now quite enlisted Sir Nicholas Throgmorton against his former friend. In order to enable Leicester with some decency to accept the Order of St. Michael, Throgmorton suggested that the Queen might ask for another Cross of the Order to be given to the Duke of Norfolk. When Cecil learned this, he was obliged to remonstrate with the Queen, and point out how undesirable it was in the present state of affairs to place two of her most powerful nobles under an obligation to France. At a time when Cecil was straining every nerve to keep on good terms with the House of Austria, and conciliating the Catholics, in order to checkmate Mary Stuart, Leicester had agents running backwards and forwards to France, in the hope of bringing forward in an official form the farcical offer of Charles IX.’s hand for the Queen, which offer he knew would come to nothing, whilst rendering abortive the Archduke’s suit, upon which Cecil depended to so great an extent.

The dexterity and cleverness of Cecil under these circumstances is shown very markedly in the manner in which he changed in a very few months the opinion of the Spanish Ambassador about him, as soon as his policy rendered it necessary to gain his good opinion. “When I first arrived here,” writes Guzman, January 2, 1565, “I imagined Secretary Cecil … to be very different from what I have found him in your Majesty’s affairs. He is well disposed towards them, truthful, lucid, modest, and just; and although he is zealous in serving his Queen, which is one of his best traits, yet he is amenable to reason. He knows the French, and, like an Englishman, is their enemy. He assured me on his oath … that the French have always made great efforts to attract to their country the Flanders trade (i.e. with England). With regard to his religion I say nothing, except that I wish he were a Catholic … but he is straightforward,[165] and shows himself well affected towards your Majesty … for he alone it is who makes or mars business here.”[209]

Having thus gained the good-will of the Spaniard, Cecil was soon able to persuade him that the Queen would never really marry Leicester, and the relations between the latter and the Spaniards became cooler. The Queen herself could not do enough to show her kindness to Guzman, and at joust, tournament, and ball, chatted with him in preference to the French Ambassador. By January 1565, Leicester, seeing that Cecil’s diplomacy had gained the good-will of Spain, and that the Catholics were turning to the side of the Archduke, unblushingly veered round to the French interest.

Guzman was obliged then to write that he was not at all satisfied with him. He wished, he said, to please everybody; but was getting very friendly with the French, who were making much of him. But there was more even than this. The Queen and Cecil were trying their best to please the Catholics. The Queen openly and rudely rebuked Dean Nowell at his sermon on Ash Wednesday for attacking Catholic practices; whilst Cecil was pushing the Vestments Order to the very verge of safety. Some of the bishops invited him to a conference, and remonstrated with him on the severity of the new regulations, which they openly stigmatised as papistical. He told them sternly that the Queen’s order must be obeyed, or worse would befall them. The churchmen of the Geneva school railed and resisted, as far as they might,[210] what[166] they called the Secretary’s backsliding; whilst Leicester, ever willing to change sides, if he could only checkmate Cecil, vigorously took the part of the Puritans, and did his best to hamper the execution of the Vestments Order, and to prevent the use of the cross on the altars.[211]

In February 1565, De Foix, the French Ambassador, shot the bolt that had long been forging. He saw Elizabeth in her presence-chamber, and, after much exaggerated compliment, read a letter of Catharine de Medici, saying she would be the happiest of mothers if her dearly beloved sister Queen Elizabeth would marry her son, and become a daughter to her. “She would find in the young King,” she said, “both bodily and mentally, that which would please her.” This was very sweet incense to Elizabeth, and she sentimentally deplored that she was not ten years younger. De Foix flattered her, and tranquillised her fears that she would be neglected or abandoned, and the Queen agreed with him to keep the matter secret for the present, and promised him a speedy reply.[212] As usual, Cecil drew up for the Queen’s guidance a judicial examination of the advantages and disadvantages which might be expected from the marriage. He is careful in this lucid document not to commit himself to an individual opinion,[213] but the formidable list of objections far outweigh the advantages; and when the Queen the next day repeated Cecil’s arguments as her own, De Foix lost patience, hinted that his mistress had been deceived, and would withdraw the offer.[214] Elizabeth petted the ruffled diplomatist into a good humour again, and said she would send Cecil to talk the matter over with him.

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Leicester had been bribed heavily by the French, and pretended to be strongly in favour of the match, which he knew would never take place, but might choke off the Archduke. But with Cecil it was very different. He had no objection to the French suit being talked about: that might make Spain and the Austrians more tractable; but if it was allowed to go too far, the Emperor would take umbrage, and the Spaniards would balance matters by marrying Mary Stuart to some nominee of their own. When, consequently, Cecil saw De Foix, he was cool and argumentative, talked much of the difficulties of the match; and on De Foix suggesting that such a union with France would preserve England from danger, he replied that England could defend herself, and had nothing to fear. By these tactics he avoided a direct negative, delayed and procrastinated, whilst his agents were busy in Germany smoothing the way for the Archduke. The French matter was a strict secret, but the Queen could not avoid giving some very broad hints about it to her friend Guzman. When he objected that the young King would be a very little husband for her, she angled dexterously but ineffectually to extort an offer of marriage from Don Carlos. Catharine de Medici was just as eager as Elizabeth[215] that the negotiations for[168] the marriage with Charles IX. should not be dropped, for she was getting seriously afraid now of the Catholic combination into which she had been drawn, and industriously plied Smith with arguments in favour of the match. But Smith knew as well as Cecil himself that the whole matter was a feint, and dexterously avoided giving a favourable opinion. The Huguenots, however, were in deadly earnest about it, and Elizabeth and Catharine contrived to carry on the farce intermittently until eventually Charles IX. was betrothed to a daughter of the Emperor.

Elizabeth was barely off with the old love than Adam Swetkowitz, Baron Mitterburg, came on behalf of the new. Ostensibly his mission was to return the late Emperor’s insignia of the Garter, but really every step to be taken by him had been previously agreed upon through Throgmorton, Roger Le Strange, Baron Preyner, Mundt, and the Duke of Wurtemburg. The Spanish Ambassador, however, had been studiously kept in the dark until shortly before Swetkowitz’s arrival, and was not in a hurry to pledge his master in the Archduke’s favour, until he learned what arrangements had been made about religion. On the contrary, he first approached Leicester, who was ill in consequence of an accident, and secretly urged him to press his suit before the Emperor’s envoy appeared. Leicester was doubtful, but still not quite without hope. When Swetkowitz actually arrived, Leicester understood that the current was too powerful for him to oppose at first, and he became strongly and ostentatiously in favour of the Austrian match. Swetkowitz first saw the Queen at the beginning of June. Her people, she said, were urging her to marry, and she was anxious to hear whether the King of Spain would favour the Archduke’s suit for her hand. This Swetkowitz[169] could not tell her; and he was referred to Cecil for further discussion of details.

The conditions as laid down by Cecil[216] were prudent and moderate, but certainly not likely to commend themselves to the King of Spain, or even to the Emperor; for no power was to be given to the Consort, and the question of religion was jealously safeguarded. It is evident that the German thought that Leicester might be made instrumental in modifying these conditions. He writes to the Emperor, “Since the principal promoter of this transaction will be the illustrious Earl of Leicester, who is most devoted to the Archduke, and is loved by the Queen with a sincere and most chaste and honest love, I think your Majesty and the Archduke would aid the business by addressing fraternal letters to the Earl.”[217] But Leicester’s momentary adhesion to the policy of Cecil, Sussex, and Norfolk, was only for the purpose of deceiving the Secretary, and putting him off his guard. Whilst Cecil was proceeding in good faith with Swetkowitz, and the latter, a Lutheran, was just as earnest in his efforts to bring about the marriage, both the Queen and Leicester were playing a double game. Probably Elizabeth’s marriage with her favourite was never nearer than at this juncture, when she was carrying on a serious negotiation with the Austrian, and was still making an appearance of dallying with De Foix. The circumstances, indeed, were for the moment all in favour of Leicester. Guzman was very cool about the Archduke[170] and the Lutheran envoy. The Queen was for ever trying to ascertain Philip’s feeling about the Archduke, and at the same time dragging Leicester’s name into her complicated conversational puzzles with the Spaniard. The latter on one occasion, disbelieving her sincerity about the Archduke, urged her to marry his friend Leicester, if she married a subject; and only a day or two afterwards De Foix, who had by this time lost all hope of success for Charles IX., and wished to checkmate the Austrian, also went and pleaded Leicester’s suit. The Earl, thus having the good word both of the Spanish and French Ambassadors, could afford to grow cool on the Austrian match.[218] Cecil, and Sussex particularly, were scandalised and apprehensive at this new instance of Leicester’s falseness, and laboured desperately to bring the Archduke to England to force the Queen’s hand. But the Emperor was slow and doubtful about the religious conditions, and would not risk a loss of dignity.

Matters thus dragged on month after month, whilst Leicester’s chances looked brighter and brighter. Among the principal reasons for the rising hopes of Leicester were the events which had happened in Scotland during the previous few months. After much apparent hesitation, Elizabeth had in February granted to Darnley[171] permission to join his father in Scotland for three months. A few weeks later a messenger came from Mary Stuart to the Spanish Ambassador in London, asking him whether he had any reply to send to her. Guzman was cautious, for he did not quite know the meaning of this; but said he would speak to Maitland of Lethington, who was then on the way to London from the Border. Simultaneously with this, Lady Margaret Lennox also approached Guzman. “She told me the kind treatment her son had received at the hands of the Queen of Scots, and that the French Ambassador had sent to her secretly offering all his support for the marriage of her son. But she knows the French way of dealing … and repeats that she and her children have no other refuge but your Majesty (Philip), and begs me to address your Majesty in their favour, in case the Queen of Scotland should choose to negotiate about her son, Darnley, or in the event of the death of this Queen, that they may look to your Majesty.” When Maitland arrived in London in April, he saw Guzman in secret, and after some fencing and feigned ignorance, offered his mistress’s adhesion and submission to Spain. His mistress, he said, had waited for Philip’s answer about Don Carlos for two years, but had now listened to some proposals for a marriage with Darnley, as neither Elizabeth nor her own subjects wished her to marry a foreigner. But before concluding the affair she wished to know if there was still any hope of her obtaining Don Carlos, in which case she still preferred that alliance. Guzman replied that, as Cardinal Lorraine had gone so far in his negotiations for the marriage with the Archduke Charles, Philip had abandoned all idea of opposing him by bringing forward his own son Carlos. Maitland assured him that the negotiations of Cardinal Lorraine were carried on against Mary’s wish, and in[172] the interests of France; but Guzman knew now that the match with Don Carlos was hopeless, and said so. Maitland then spoke of the Darnley marriage, which, however, he feared would be very dangerous if Elizabeth took it badly. All would be well, he said, if the King of Spain would take Mary and Darnley under his protection; but beyond bland banalities he could get nothing from Guzman.[219]

Darnley’s demeanour in Scotland, and Mary’s behaviour towards him, together with the rising hopes of the Catholics there, had alarmed Murray and his friends; and Elizabeth and her Council were now also alive to their danger. Cecil drew up one of his pro and contra reports with regard to the influence that such a marriage would have on England,[220] which was submitted to the Council, and a unanimous condemnation of the match was adopted, and Throgmorton was sent in May post-haste to Scotland to dissuade Mary from taking a step so threatening to Elizabeth. Randolph’s letters to Cecil at the time showed that the danger was a real one. Darnley, he says, is a furious fool, and Mary was infatuated with him. To the Pope, to Philip, to Cardinal de Granvelle, and to Guzman, Mary made no secret that her object was to unite the Catholics and claim the crown of England; and Lady Margaret had from the first admitted that this was her aim in promoting the marriage of her son. When Elizabeth’s eyes were opened to the imminence of the peril, she did what she could to stay the match. She, De Foix, and Throgmorton again pressed Leicester’s marriage with Mary, Murray and his Protestant friends were encouraged to resist, Lady Margaret was placed under arrest in the Tower, Darnley was ordered to return to England, and[173] the Queen promised Maitland that if his mistress would marry to her liking she would acknowledge her right of succession to the English crown. Meanwhile rumours came thickly from Scotland that Mary was already married, Philip promised all his support to Mary and Darnley if they would be his faithful servants, Murray and Lethington were thrust into the background, Rizzio was ever at Mary’s side, and her foolish young English lover, hated and contemned for his arrogance, urged his infatuated bride to the religious intolerance that led to her ruin.[221]

The remonstrances of Throgmorton and Randolph, and the letters of the Queen and Cecil, were as powerless to move Mary now as was the threatening attitude of her nobles and people, for she had decided to depend entirely upon Philip, and to defy the Queen of England. In July, a few days before her marriage, she sent a special messenger to Guzman with letters for Philip, “begging for help and favour against the Queen of England, who has raised her subjects against her, to force her to forsake the Catholic religion.”[222] Murray, Argyll, and the Hamiltons, she says, are in revolt, and if aid do not come from Spain she will be lost.

When Mary’s marriage was known for certain in London, the Archduke’s suit was being laboriously discussed; but almost immediately afterwards, the renewed hopes of Leicester already referred to were noticed. It was felt that, now that Mary’s marriage to a subject had taken place, one of Elizabeth’s principal reasons for contracting an alliance with a son of the House of Austria disappeared, and a precedent had been set for her marriage with a man not belonging to a sovereign house.

Swetkowitz therefore found that he had to encounter[174] all manner of new conditions and demands from the Queen, which drove him to despair, and Guzman looked upon the Austrian’s chance as a very poor one indeed. The Earl of Sussex and Cecil did their best to keep the matter afoot, whilst Leicester and Throgmorton openly proclaimed the hollowness of the whole negotiation. The old Earl of Arundel asked Guzman to dinner at Nonsuch early in August, apparently for the purpose of dissociating the English Catholics from the intrigues of both parties. He assured the Spaniard “that the men who surrounded the Queen did not wish her to marry. I said it was quite possible that some of them who thought they might get the prize for themselves might wish to hinder it; but as for Secretary Cecil, I thought that his disagreement with Robert (Leicester) might well lead him to support the Archduke, if it were not for the question of religion. He (Arundel) told me not to believe that Cecil wanted the Queen to marry. He was ambitious and fond of ruling, and liked everything to pass through his hands, and if the Queen had a husband he would have to obey him.” This view of the matter is not improbable; but it is certain that Cecil, in any case, would resist to the last the marriage of the Queen with Leicester, under the patronage of either France or Spain. Such a marriage would have imperilled the results of his strenuous labour, and would have thrown England back into the slough from which the Queen and he had rescued it.

When Leicester’s star was seen to be in the ascendant, and the Archduke’s chance waned, Cecil and his friends once more revived the suit of the King of Sweden. Splendid presents of sables and valuable plate came to the Queen and her court; and Eric’s romantic sister Cecilia, Margravine of Baden, again made ready for her much-desired visit to England,[175] where she arrived early in September. At the water-gate of Durham House, where she lodged as the Queen’s guest, Leicester’s opponents were assembled in force to bid her welcome. The Countess of Sussex, Lady Bacon, Lady Cecil, and Cecil himself, all did honour to the Swedish King’s sister, and Elizabeth was overwhelming in her cordiality for the first royal visitor she had entertained since her accession; but the Princess wore out her welcome, and nothing came of her visit, though it served its purpose of again spoiling the appearance of Leicester’s chances for a time.

In the meanwhile, English money and men were supporting Murray and the Protestant Lords against Mary and Darnley, who were sending emissaries to the Pope, to Cardinal Lorraine, to Flanders, and to Philip, begging for help for the faith. When Elizabeth was remonstrated with by Guzman, De Foix, and Mauvissière, for helping rebels against their Queen, and for her harsh treatment of Lady Margaret, she replied that she had been shamefully deceived, but what she was doing was to endeavour to rescue Mary from the hands of her enemies, into which she had fallen, and she blamed Darnley and his Catholic friends more than Mary. The same excuse, said Guzman, which she used when she helped the French rebel Huguenots. At the end of September a special meeting of the full Council was held, at which Cecil set forth the position with regard to Scotland, and the policy it was proposed to adopt. He pointed out the many reasons that existed for distrusting the French, who were very busy in Scottish affairs since Mary’s marriage;[223] and he told the Council that Mary had sent[176] Darnley’s secretary, Yaxley,[224] to beg aid of Philip, in addition to the letters sent through Guzman, and to the Pope. The interference of the Catholic powers in Scotland, he said, was a menace to England; and it was decided that all preparations should be made for war upon the Border, as a measure of precaution, whilst an embassy was sent from England to endeavour to effect a reconciliation between Mary and the Protestant Lords.

Before any decided steps could be taken, however, Murray retired into England, and arrived in London on the 22nd October. The Queen affected anger, and received him sternly in the presence of her Council and of the French Ambassador. Murray was dressed in deep mourning, and entered humbly. Kneeling, he addressed the Queen in Scots. She told him to speak in French, which he said he understood but imperfectly. Notwithstanding this, she addressed to him a long harangue in French, for the edification of De Foix and Mauvissière. “God preserve her,” she said, “from helping rebels, especially against one whom she had regarded as a sister.” She understood that their rising was in consequence of the Queen’s marriage without the consent of Parliament, and of fear that their religious liberty would be infringed. But if she thought he, Murray, had planned anything against his sovereign, she would at once arrest and punish him. Murray justified himself, and threw himself upon her generosity, and Elizabeth replied that she would refer the whole matter to her Council. All this scene was[177] for the purpose of putting herself right with France and Spain, and had been arranged on the previous night, when Murray was closeted with the Queen and Cecil. Cecil’s own minute of the interview agrees closely with that of Guzman, just quoted. “Her Majesty asked him (Murray), in the presence of several persons, if he had ever undertaken anything against the person of his Queen. He denied it firmly and solemnly, saying, if it might be proved that he was either consenting or privy to any such intent, he besought her Majesty to cause his head to be struck off and sent to Scotland … he testified before God that in all his counsels he had no other meaning but principally the honour of Almighty God, by conserving the state of His religion in Scotland.… And, to conclude, her Majesty spoke very roundly to him … that she would by her actions let it appear that she would not for the price of a world maintain any subject in disobedience against his prince.”[225]

Cecil’s characteristic policy is plainly seen in the Queen’s treatment of Murray. He invariably endeavoured to keep Elizabeth legally in the right, and usually with success. But still Murray and the Scottish Protestants were now his main instruments for preventing the danger approaching England over the Scottish Border. The old national lines of division had grown fainter with the international league of Catholics facing a league of Protestants. Mary Stuart had definitely thrown in her lot with the former, in the hope of satisfying her ambition;[226] and the Scottish spectre was perhaps more[178] threatening to England at this moment than ever it had been before. The obvious course was that which Cecil followed—namely, to avoid an excuse for a national war or for foreign interference, and to encourage the Scottish Protestants to stand for the liberties they had won; whilst assuming as indisputable that they were not in arms against their sovereign, but against their enemies and hers, who had interposed between the Queen and her loving subjects.