CHAPTER VIII 1566-1567

Through the spring of 1566 the unfortunate Mary Stuart hurried to her destruction. Her dislike of her husband increased as Bothwell obtained more influence over her; all prudence with regard to the overt favouring of Catholicism was cast aside, Murray and the “rebels” were sternly forbidden to return to Scotland, and the breach between Mary and “her good sister” grew wider every day. Nor is this to be wondered at. Randolph was busy in supporting the Protestants, and had been warned away from Mary’s court. His letters to Cecil are full of dread foreboding of disaster to come, foreboding which most historians interpret as foreknowledge. Cecil’s enemies have sought industriously to connect him with the sanguinary scenes which were shortly afterwards enacted in Scotland; but they have always reasoned from the information contained in Randolph’s letters to him, which in no case can be considered as evidence against him. That he was aware before Rizzio’s murder that some sort of plot existed,[227] and that Murray and his friends were parties to it, is certain; but that he himself had any share in its concoction, so far as the killing of Rizzio is concerned, has never been proved, and is most improbable.[228] As has been seen, his remedy for the[180] Scottish danger was not murder; for so far-seeing a man must have known that the killing of a favourite secretary could not divert Mary from the league of Catholic sovereigns, or alter her policy towards England whilst Huntly, Bothwell, and Athol were at her side, and papal emissaries in her close confidence. The killing of Rizzio satisfied Darnley’s spite, and served Murray’s and Argyll’s personal ends, but was more likely to injure than benefit English national objects.

What Cecil was personally doing during the first three months of 1566 was to strengthen the Protestant party in Scotland by money and promises of support,[229] whilst dividing the Catholic sovereigns upon whom Mary Stuart depended, by working desperately to bring the Archduke’s match to a successful issue. With him now, in addition to the Earl of Sussex, were the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Arundel, and many others who usually leant[181] to the Catholic side; for Leicester was openly under French influence, always suspicious in the eyes of old-fashioned Englishmen, and now more than ever distrusted, for Cardinal Lorraine’s agents were around Mary, and the Guisan Rambouillet was carrying the Order of St. Michael to Darnley, with loving messages to the Queen of Scots.

On the last day of January 1566, Cecil and other Councillors went to Guzman’s house to discuss the eternal question of the trade regulations and the suppression of piracy. When their conference was finished, Cecil took the Ambassador aside and urgently besought him to use his great influence with the Queen in favour of the Archduke’s suit. The next day the request was pressed even more warmly by Sussex, who told Guzman that the majority of the Council had decided to address a joint note on the subject to the Queen. The Spaniard was not enthusiastic, for he did not wish to break entirely with Leicester in view of possibilities; but on the 2nd February he broached the subject to the Queen and discussed it at length. She was, as usual, diplomatic and shifty; but whenever she was uncomfortably pressed, began to talk of her marriage with Leicester as a possibility; and two days afterwards Guzman saw her walking in the gallery at Whitehall with Leicester, who, she said, was just persuading her to marry him, “as she would do if he were a king’s son.” People thought, she continued, that it was Leicester’s fault she was unmarried, and it had made him so unpopular that he would have to leave court.

Almost daily Cecil or Sussex urged the Ambassador to favour the Archduke with the Queen, and were untiring in their attempts to induce the Archduke himself to come to England, in the hope of forcing the Queen’s hand. As a means to the same end they continued to[182] sow jealousy between the Catholic sovereigns. “Cecil tells me,” writes Guzman (2nd March), “that so great and constant are the attempts of the French to hinder this marriage, and to perturb the peace and friendship between your Majesty and this country, that they leave no stone unturned with that object. They are gaining over Lord Robert with gifts and favours, and are even doing the same with Throgmorton. It is true that Cecil is not friendly with them, but I think he tells me the truth with regard to it.”[230] Again, when Sir Robert Melvil, who had come from Mary to pray Elizabeth to release Lady Margaret, was leaving London on his return, Cecil begged him to see Guzman before his departure, “as no person had done so much as he had to bring about concord between the two Queens, and he (Cecil) thought that if the differences could be referred to him (Guzman) for arbitration, they might easily be settled.” Guzman thought so too, and wrote by Melvil to Mary to that effect, advising her to abandon arrogant pretensions, and accept such honourable terms as should satisfy Elizabeth;[231] and, as a preliminary, he exhorted her to live on good terms with her husband. Before Melvil left Cecil, the latter told him that they had news of Rizzio’s murder (this was written on the 18th March), and at the same time there came a messenger from Murray, saying that he had returned into Scotland (from Newcastle) on a letter of assurance from Darnley. The Earl of Murray had entered Edinburgh in triumph the day after the murder, and the Queen and Darnley had together started for Dunbar.

Another opportunity for Cecil to breed dissensions between Spain and France came when the news arrived[183] of Pero Melendez’s massacre of the French settlement in Florida, on the ground that the territory belonged to the King of Spain. The Queen professed herself to Guzman delighted at such good news; but was surprised that Florida was claimed by Spain, as she always thought that the Frenchman Ribault had discovered it; indeed she had seriously thought of conquering it herself. Guzman saw Cecil when he left the Queen (30th March), and the Secretary had nothing but reprobation for Coligny, who had sent out the French Florida expedition. “He said your Majesty should proclaim your rights with regard to Florida, that they might be known everywhere.” Cecil, shortly before this, whilst discussing the question of Hawkins’ voyages to Guinea and South America, said that he himself had been offered a share in the enterprise, but that he did not care to have anything to do with such adventures. By all this it will be seen that Cecil’s strenuous efforts to combat the Catholic league, which might lend to Mary Stuart a united support against England, took the traditional form of drawing the House of Austria to the side of England, and causing jealousy between France and Spain. He knew that in the long-run national antipathies were stronger than religious affinities, and that the Catholic league, which had been ineffectual after the peace of Cateau-Cambresis (1559), could with time and industry be broken again.[232]

[184]

But while Cecil approached Spain in order to divide her from France, he never forgot that Philip was the champion of the Catholics throughout the world, and kept his eyes on every movement which might forebode ill to England. His spies in Flanders were daily sending reports of the rumours there of King Philip’s attitude towards the resistance of the Flemish nobles to the Inquisition; indeed, as Guzman writes to his master (29th April): “These people have intelligence from everywhere, and are watching religious affairs closely; but it is difficult to understand what they are about, and with whom they correspond, as Cecil does it all himself, and does not trust even his own secretary.”[233]

Cecil might well be vigilant, for Mary Stuart’s plots went on unceasingly.[234] Sir Robert Melvil arrived in[185] London in May, again to discuss the question of the succession, and to ask Elizabeth to stand sponsor for Mary’s expected child; but, greatly to Elizabeth’s indignation, he brought amiable letters from the Scottish Queen to the Earl of Northumberland and other English Catholic nobles; and whilst he was in London, an emissary from Mary Stuart to the Pope passed through on his return to Scotland with 20,000 crowns from the Pontiff, and a promise of 4000 crowns a month to pay a thousand soldiers for her (Mary’s) defence. An envoy, too, of the rebel Shan O’Neil was at the same time lurking in Edinburgh, conferring with the Queen.

All this was known to Cecil and Elizabeth, and drove them ever nearer to Spain and to the Archduke’s match, Leicester himself, probably out of jealousy of Ormonde, who was vigorously flirting with the Queen, now openly siding with the Austrian. Even Throgmorton was reconciled with Cecil by the Earls of Pembroke and Leicester, who promised the Secretary that Throgmorton should no longer thwart his policy.

On the 23rd June, Sir James Melvil arrived with breakneck speed in London from Edinburgh, with news of the birth of Mary Stuart’s heir.[235] It was late, but Sir Robert Melvil, the Ambassador, lost no time in conveying the tidings to Cecil, whose own entry of the event in the Perpetual Calendar at Hatfield runs thus: “1566, 19 June, was borne James at Edinburgh inter hor? 10 et 11 matutino.” Cecil promised to keep the news secret from the court until Mary’s own messenger could convey it officially to the Queen. Elizabeth was at Greenwich at the time, and when Cecil arrived she was “in great mirth dancing after supper.” Cecil approached the Queen and whispered in her ear, and in a moment the[186] secret was out and all joy vanished. With a burst of envy, Elizabeth, almost in tears, told her ladies that the Queen of Scots was mother of a fair boy, whilst she, Elizabeth, was but a “barren stock.”[236] When the Melvils saw her the next day she had recovered her composure, and promised to send Cecil to Scotland to be present at the christening, which embassy the Secretary with some difficulty evaded, “as there were so many suspicions on both sides.”[237]

The Queen had suffered a serious illness early in the summer, which, with the anxiety of her position, had reduced her to a very low condition. It was decided that a progress should be undertaken for her health, in which the University of Oxford could be visited, and Cecil be specially honoured by a stay of the Queen at his house of Burghley. She left London in July, and underwent an ordeal at Oxford similar to that which she had experienced two years before at Cambridge. The vestments controversy was raging with great bitterness, clergymen were deprived and punished for contumacy, pulpit and press were silenced, and the Protestants resentful. Cecil was firm, but diplomatic, and the Queen indignant that her laws should be called into question. Under the circumstances it required great tact on both sides to avoid any untoward event during the Queen’s visit to Oxford, where the Puritan party was very strong. Leicester and Cecil were both with the Queen, the former strongly favouring the Puritans, the latter taking his stand on the Queen’s order for the discipline of the Church. On the Queen’s reception, the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Humphreys, one of the leaders of the anti-vestment party, approached to kiss the Queen’s[187] hand. “Mr. Doctor,” said the Queen, smiling, “that loose gown becomes you mighty well; I wonder your notions should be so narrow.” Once, during the speech of the public orator, tender ground was touched, but the visit passed over without further embittering an already bitter controversy, and Leicester and Cecil, Puritan Knollys, Catholic Howard of Effingham, and many others received the honorary degree of Master of Arts.[238]

Cecil’s own entries in his journal of the period are meagre enough:—

“1566. June. Fulsharst, a foole, was suborned to speak slanderously of me at Greenwich to the Queen’s Majesty; for which he was committed to Bridewell.

“June 16. A discord inter Com. Sussex et Leicester at Greenwych, ther appeased by Her Majesty.

“August 3. The Queen’s Majesty was at Colly Weston, in Northamptonshire.

“August 5. The Queen’s Majesty at my house in Stamford.

“August 31. The Queen in progress went from Woodstock to Oxford.”

During the progress a disagreement between Cecil and Leicester took place, as well as that mentioned between the latter and Sussex. The communications between the Earl and the French were constant, and had caused much heart-burning. The existence of a strong and active party in the English court ostentatiously leaning to the French side, at a time when Cecil’s whole policy depended upon keeping the good-will of Spain, hampered him at every turn, and he wrote a letter to Sir Thomas Hoby, privately instructing him to give out in France that Leicester’s influence over the Queen had decreased, and that the French need not[188] court him so much as they did. When the letter arrived, Hoby, the Ambassador, was dead, and it fell into other hands. Leicester heard of it, and taxed Cecil, who retorted angrily.

Even in Cecil’s own house the intrigues against his policy continued. He had sent Danett to the Emperor with the draft clauses of the proposed marriage treaty with the Archduke, and the news from Vienna seemed to confirm the best hopes of those who favoured the Austrian match. This, of course, did not suit Leicester. Vulcob, the nephew of the new French Ambassador, B?chetel de la Forest, went to Stamford to carry his uncle’s excuses for not coming earlier to see the Queen. As he was entering the presence-chamber at Burghley, Leicester stopped him, and began talking about the marriage. He hardly knew what to think, he said, but he was sure that if the Queen ever did marry, she would choose no one but himself for a husband. The Frenchman, no doubt, understood him. The Archduke’s match was getting too promising, and must be checked by the usual French move. So Vulcob took care when he saw the Queen to dwell mainly upon the attractive physical qualities of the young King Charles IX. Elizabeth was never tired of such a subject, and very soon the French Ambassador was warmly intriguing to bring forward his master’s suit again, as a counterpoise to the Austrian hopes, but really in Leicester’s interests, whilst presents and loving messages came thick and fast from France to Leicester and Throgmorton. The Emperor’s reply by Danett was, after all, not so encouraging as Cecil and Sussex had been led to expect, and Leicester’s hopes rose higher than ever. During the Queen’s progress he arranged with his friends a scheme which seemed as if it would stop the Archduke’s chances for ever. Parliament was to meet in October, and the plan was to influence both Houses to[189] press the Queen on the questions of the succession and her marriage, “so that by this means the Archduke’s business may be upset … and then he (Leicester) may treat of his own affair at his leisure.” It was clear that any attempt on the part of the Puritans and Leicester to force the Queen’s hands with regard to the marriage whilst the delicate religious question was under discussion with the Emperor, would put an end to the negotiations, and Cecil and his friends strove their utmost to avoid such a result. They urged Guzman again to persuade the Queen to the match; the Duke of Norfolk came purposely to court with the same object, and for once Cecil himself was willing, in appearance, to place the religious question in the background. “Cecil,” writes Guzman, “desires this business so greatly, that he does not speak about the religious point; but this may be deceit, as his wife is of a contrary opinion, and thinks that great trouble may be caused to the peace of the country through it. She has great influence with her husband, and no doubt discusses the matter with him; but she appears a much more furious heretic than he is.” Well might the Queen and Cecil be apparently more anxious to sink religious differences than Lady Cecil, for they probably knew how imminent the danger was better than she.

The Protestants in Flanders and Holland were in open revolt; and slow Philip was collecting in Spain and Italy an overwhelming force by land and sea, with which he himself was to come as the avenger of his injured kingship, and crush the rising spirit of religious reform. If such an army as his swept over and desolated his Netherlands, whither next might it turn? For six years Elizabeth had kept Spain from harming her, out of jealousy of France; but France was now more than half Guisan, and in favour of Mary Stuart, and the Huguenots themselves had deserted England when she[190] was fighting their battle at Havre. No help, then, could be expected from France if Spain attacked Elizabeth for her “heresy”; and the Queen and her wise minister were fain to conciliate a foe they were not powerful enough to face in the open. Elizabeth went beyond the Spaniard himself in her violent denunciation of the insurgents in the Netherlands. Their only aim, she said, was liberty against God and princes. They had neither reason, virtue, nor religion. She excused herself for having helped the French Huguenots, which she only did, she said, to recover Calais. If the Netherlands rebels came to her for help, she would show them how dearly she held the interests of her good brother King Philip; “and she cursed subjects who did not recognise the mercy that God had shown them in sending them a prince so clement and humane as your Majesty.”[239] Cecil was not quite so extravagant as this, but he missed no opportunity at so critical a juncture of drawing nearer to Spain, and was even more compliant than ever before on the vexed subject of the English right to trade in the Spanish Indies. “Cecil is well disposed in this matter,” writes Guzman, “and I am not surprised that the others are not, as they are interested. Cecil assures me that he has always stood aloof from similar enterprises.”

In the meanwhile Leicester’s persistent efforts to hamper Cecil’s policy were bearing fruit. With great difficulty Cecil persuaded the House of Commons to vote the supplies before the question of the succession was dealt with, but a free fight on the floor of the House preceded the vote. The Queen was irritated beyond measure at the inopportune activity of the extreme party about the succession. Sussex, the Spanish Ambassador, and others of Catholic leanings, pointed out to her that if she married the Archduke there would be an end of[191] the trouble, and she need not then think of any successor other than her own children. At length a joint meeting of the two Houses adopted an address to the Queen, urging her to appoint a successor if she did not intend to marry. When the address was presented, her rage passed all decency.[240] The Duke of Norfolk, her own kinsman, and the first subject of the realm, was insulted with vulgar abuse, which well-nigh reduced him to tears. Leicester, Pembroke, Northampton, and Howard were railed at and scolded in turn; only once did she soften somewhat towards Leicester. She had thought, she said, that if all the world had abandoned her, he would never do so. What do the devils want? she asked Guzman. Oh! your Majesty, replied the Ambassador, what they want is liberty, and if monarchs do not combine against it, it is easy to see how it will all end. She would send the ungrateful fellow Leicester away, she said, and the Archduke might now be without suspicion. Gradually, as she calmed, her diplomacy asserted itself, and cleverly, by alternations of threats and cajolery, she reduced Parliament to the required condition of invertebrate dependence upon her will.[241]

[192]

All this, we may be sure, did not decrease the ill-feeling in the court, which for the next six months became a hotbed of intrigue. On the one side were Norfolk, Sussex, the Conservatives, and the Catholics, aided by Guzman, and cautiously supported by Cecil and Bacon; whilst on the other, Leicester, Throgmorton, Pembroke, Knollys, and the Puritans, backed by the French Ambassador, ceaselessly endeavoured to check the Austrian-Spanish friendship, and if possible, above all, to ruin Sussex and prevent his embassy to the Emperor. That Leicester would stick at no inconsistency is seen by the curious fact that, whilst he was nominally heading the Puritan party, he, according to Melvil, was strenuously favouring the claims of the Queen of Scots to the succession. He assured Elizabeth that this would be her best safeguard, or “Cecil would undo all,” the reason for this being that Cecil was known to be in favour of Catharine Grey.

On the 14th February 1567, Cecil sent word to his friend Guzman that he had just received secret advice of the murder of Darnley, of which he gave some hasty particulars. The intelligence could hardly have come as a surprise to the Spaniard, for a month previously he had informed Philip that some such act was contemplated. Within a few hours of the reception of the news in London, Leicester sent his brother, the Earl of Warwick, to Catharine Grey’s husband, to offer him his services in the matter of the succession. Five days afterwards Sir James Melvil came with full particulars of the foul deed at Kirk o’ Field, and at once rumour was busy with the name of Mary Stuart as an accomplice in her husband’s death. Elizabeth expressed sorrow and compassion on the day she heard the news, but rather doubtfully told Guzman “that she could not believe that the Queen of Scots could be to blame for[193] so dreadful a thing, notwithstanding the murmurs of the people.” When Guzman, however, pointed out to her how dangerous it would be for the opposite party (Catharine Grey’s friends) to make capital out of the accusation, the Queen agreed that it would be wise to discountenance it, and to keep friendly with Mary Stuart, in order to prevent her from falling under French influence again.

In a letter from Cecil to Norris (20th February) he says: “The Queen sent yesterday my Lady Howard and my wife to Lady Lennox, in the Tower, to open this matter to her, who could not by any means be kept from such passions of mind as the horribleness of the fact did require.… I hope her Majesty will show some favourable compassion of the said lady, whom any humane nature must needs pity.… The most suspicion that I can hear is of Earl Bothwell, yet I would not be thought the author of any such report.”[242] Lady Margaret, in her agony of grief, made no scruple at first in accusing her daughter-in-law of complicity in the murder; but the bereaved mother left the Tower on the following day, doubtless warned of the unwisdom of saying what she thought. At least, when she saw Sir James Melvil she told him, “She did not believe that Mary had been a party to the death of her son, but she could not help complaining of her bad treatment of him.” But whatever she might say, the spirits of the Catholic party in England sank to zero at the black cloud which hovered over their candidate. “Every day it becomes clearer that the Queen of Scotland must take some step to prove that she had no hand in the death of her husband if she is to prosper in her claims to the succession here,”[243] wrote Guzman. Fortunately this book[194] is not the place in which to discuss the vexed question of Mary’s complicity in Darnley’s death, but her contemporaries both in England and Scotland, as well as abroad, certainly thought her guilty. Cecil, writing to Sir Henry Norris in March, mentions the suspicions against Bothwell, Balfour, &c., and says, “There are words added, which I am loth to report, that touch the Queen of Scots, which I hold best to be suppressed. Further, such persons anointed are not to be thought ill of without manifest proof.”[244] And again, a few days afterwards, he says, “The Queen of Scots is not well spoken of.” The entry of the event in Cecil’s journal makes no mention of Mary. It runs thus: “Feb. 9. The L. Darnley, K. of Scots, was killed and murdered near Edenburgh;” and on the following day the news is amplified thus: “Feb. 10. Hora secunda post mediam noctem Hen. Rex Scoti? interfectus fuit, per Jac Co. Bothwell, Jac Ormeston de Ormeston, Hob Ormeston patrem dicti Jac Ormeston, Tho Hepbourn.”

Morette, the Duke of Savoy’s special envoy to Scotland, had left Edinburgh the day after the murder, and on his way through London saw Guzman. The Queen of Scots had assured Morette that she would avenge her husband’s death, and punish the murderers, but he made no secret of his belief that she had prior knowledge of the plan. Whilst Morette was dining with Guzman and the French Ambassador, a French messenger named Clerivault arrived at the house, bringing a letter from Mary to the Queen of England, claiming her pity, and similar letters for Catharine de Medici, the Archbishop of Glasgow, and others,[245] denouncing the crime.[246] Mary,[195] indeed, lost no time in endeavouring to put herself right before the world. She offered rewards for the discovery of the murderers; but when all fingers are pointed at Bothwell and his creatures, when public placards were posted in the capital accusing them and hinting at the Queen’s complicity, Mary still kept the principals at her side, and made no move against their subaltern instruments. In vain, for a time, the bereaved father Lennox demanded vengeance; in vain Elizabeth, by Killigrew, sent indignant letters to Mary; in vain the Catholic Archbishop of Glasgow exhorted her to prove her own innocence by pursuing the offenders without mercy. Bothwell stood ever by her side, and his clansmen cowed the murmuring citizens who looked with aversion now upon their beautiful young Queen. At length, goaded to take some action by the danger of losing the Catholic support, upon which alone she had depended, she held the sham trial in the Edinburgh Tolbooth two months after the crime. Lennox refused to attend the travesty of justice, and Bothwell was unanimously acquitted. Murray had left the court before the murder, and fled to France when the result of the trial was known. Bothwell, loaded with favours, insolent with success, seemed to hold Scotland and the Queen in the hollow of his hand. The nobles were mostly bought or threatened into shameful compliance, and only the “preachers” and the townsfolk kept alive the growing horror of the Queen. No longer, even, did the humble peasant women hesitate, before Mary’s face, to make their loyal blessing conditional upon her innocence.[247][196] What was horrified doubt before became indignant reprobation when, only three months after Darnley’s death, Mary married the hastily divorced Bothwell. Then came the hurried flight in disguise towards Dunbar, the gathering of the nobles, the flight of Bothwell at Carbery Hill, and the conveyance of the disgraced Queen to Edinburgh. When nothing but vows of defiance and vengeance against Bothwell’s enemies could be obtained from her, and it was clear that the unfortunate woman was deaf to reason and decency, came the crowning degradation of Lochleven, and Mary Stuart’s sun set to rise no more.

To a short life of turbulent pleasure succeeded twenty years of plotting against the peace and independence of England and the cause of religious liberty. During that twenty years Cecil and his mistress were pitted against one of the cleverest women in Europe, supported by all that was discontented in England and Scotland, and all that was distinctively Catholic abroad. In the critical position caused by the rising of the Protestant Lords against Bothwell and the Queen, Cecil’s view diverged somewhat from that of Elizabeth. The latter was naturally first concerned at the want of respect shown on all sides to an anointed sovereign, which subject was always a tender one with her; whereas the Secretary was still anxious, before all else, to exclude French influence from Scotland. Writing to Norris in France (26th June), he conveys the news of Mary’s restraint, and at the same time encloses letters from Scotland recalling Murray (then at Lyons), “the sending of which letters requireth great haste, whereof you must not make the Scottish Ambassador privy.[248]… The best part of the (Scots) nobility hath confederated themselves to follow, by way of justice, the condemnation of Bothwell and his complices[197] in the murder of the King. Bothwell defends himself by the Queen’s maintenance and the Hamiltons, so he hath some party, though it be not great. The 15th of this month he brought the Queen into the field with her power, which was so small, as he escaped himself without fighting and left the Queen in the field; and she yielded herself to the Lords, flatly denying to grant justice against Bothwell, so as they have restrained her in Lochleven until they come unto the end of their pursuit against Bothwell.… Murray’s return into Scotland is much desired by them, and for the weal both of England and Scotland I wish he were here. For his manner of returning and safety, I pray require Mr. Stewart to have good care.… The French Ambassador, and Villeroy, who is there (in Scotland), pretend favour to the Lords, with great offers; and it may be that they may do as much on the other side” (i.e. in France).[249] It was this last possibility which so much disturbed Cecil, and it was to avert it that Murray’s return was so ardently desired, for he was known always to be opposed to the French influence in his country. In August, after Murray had returned to Scotland (visiting Elizabeth at Windsor on his way home at the end of July), Cecil wrote again to Norris: “You shall perceive by the Queen’s letter to you herewith how earnestly she is bent in the favour of the Queen of Scots; and truly since the beginning she hath been greatly offended with the Lords in this action;[250] yet[198] no counsel can stay her Majesty from manifesting of her misliking of them; so as, indeed, I think thereby the French may, and will, easily catch them, and make their present profit of them, to the damage of England. In this behalf her Majesty had no small misliking of that book which you sent me written in French, whose (author’s) name yet I know not; but, howsoever, I think him of great wit and acquaintance in the affairs of the world. It is not in my power to procure any reward, and therefore you must so use the matter as he neither be discouraged nor think unkindness in me.”[251]

How much Cecil dreaded renewed French interference in Scotland is seen at this time by his ever-growing cordiality towards Spain. An acrimonious discussion was going on, both in London and in Paris, with regard to the restoration of Calais to England, which was now due by the treaty of Cateau-Cambresis. Cecil and the Queen were both emphatic in their condemnation of the Protestant risings in the Spanish Netherlands, though French agents kept whispering to Guzman that help was being sent thither by England. The union between Cecil and the Spaniard was nevertheless closer than ever. The latter, in March, secretly told Cecil that the King of France was sending De Croc to Scotland,[252] and that there seemed to be some mystery brewing in that quarter. The Secretary[199] replied that he knew it; they had a plot to steal the Prince of Scotland and take him to France, but that steps had been taken to prevent such a thing. Guzman thereupon urged the Queen of England to have the infant Prince brought to England, Mary having told Killigrew that she was willing that this should be done.[253] Indeed, at this time Cecil’s perseverance had quite won Spanish sympathy, and had widened the rift in the Catholic league, as was necessary for England’s safety, Guzman being if anything more eager than Cecil to checkmate the intrigues of the French in Scotland.

The efforts on the other side were just as incessant to divide Spain from England, and more than once at this period caused temporary estrangement between them. In June a somewhat unexpected embassy came from the Emperor, with the object of asking Elizabeth for monetary aid against the Turk. The principal Ambassador, Stolberg, was a Protestant, and the Queen immediately jumped at the incorrect conclusion that he had come to arrange for the wedding of the Archduke. Before even he arrived in London, Stolberg had been persuaded that a great Catholic league had been formed, including his own sovereign the Emperor, with the object of crushing Elizabeth and rooting out Protestantism from Europe; and when, at his formal reception at Richmond,[254] the[200] Queen gave Stolberg an unfavourable reply to his request for aid against the Turk, Cecil took Guzman, who accompanied him, aside and told him that the Queen and Council had learned the particulars of a league of the Catholic powers against Elizabeth and the Protestants,[255] in favour of the Queen of Scots. The better to effect the object, he said, the Emperor had made a disadvantageous truce with the Turk, whereat the English Council was much scandalised, and was determined to make all necessary preparations, this being the reason why the Queen had answered the Ambassador so unfavourably.[256] Guzman was shocked that so sensible a person as Cecil should believe such nonsense. Probably Cecil knew as well as Guzman that the league was dead, so far as united action against England was concerned; but such attempts as this, to serve French ends by arousing jealousy between Spain and England, were constant, and occasionally, as in this instance, aroused some distrust on one side or the other.[257]

As soon as the detention of Mary Stuart was known[201] by the French Government an attempt was made to gain Murray to the side of France, in order to obtain possession of the infant Prince. Murray delayed pledging himself until he received the letters from the Lords and from Cecil, already referred to. He then started with all haste for Scotland, taking London on the way. Whilst in London at the end of July he saw Guzman, and told him as a secret that he had not even communicated to Elizabeth, that a letter existed which proved conclusively the guilt of his sister in the murder of her husband.[258] It was evident thus early that Murray, whilst expressing sympathy for his sister, and deprecating generally any derogation of the dignity of a sovereign, was determined that Mary Stuart should do no more harm to Protestantism or the relationship between Scotland and England, if he could help it. “He said he would do his best to find some means by which she should remain Queen, but without sufficient liberty to do them any harm, or marry against the will of her Council and Parliament.”[259] It is evident, from a letter from[202] Cecil to Norris, that Murray arranged with the former when in England to assume the Regency of Scotland on his arrival, although not without misgiving on the part of Elizabeth, even if she personally was a consenting party to the arrangement. Murray, writing a friendly letter to Cecil early in 1568 (Hatfield Papers), mentions that a report had reached him that Cecil had been told that he (Murray) was offended because Sir William in his first letter had not addressed him as Regent. Murray assures him that this was not the case, and begs him not to allow any such thought to disturb their friendship, “the amity of the two countries being the great object of both … although the Queen, your mistress, outwardly seems not altogether to allow the present state here, yet I doubt not but her Highness in heart liketh it well enough.” Elizabeth was at the time divided between two feelings: that of indignation at any restraint being placed upon a sovereign by subjects, and the knowledge that the imprisonment of Mary meant the disablement of the only individual whom England had to fear. Cecil was fully alive to the latter fact, whilst the former was to him of quite secondary importance when compared with the national issues involved.

When the news came of Mary’s renunciation and the crowning of the infant James, the Lords wrote to Elizabeth, saying that either she must protect them, or they must accept a French alliance; and she was then obliged to prefer the interests of England to her reverence for the sacredness of a sovereign. Guzman thus tells the story: “The Queen told me she did not know what was best to be done, and asked my opinion, pointing out to me the inexpediency of showing favour to so bad an example, and, on the other hand, the danger to her of a new alliance of these people with the French … I think I see more inclination on her part to aid them (the[203] Scots) than the case at present demands, as I gave her many reasons for delay, whilst she still insisted that it was necessary to act at once.” The next day (August 9) the tone of the Queen had somewhat changed. She would, she said, recall Throgmorton from Scotland, as it was beneath her dignity to have an Ambassador accredited to a sovereign in duress,[260] and she would refuse her protection and aid to the Lords. The reason for this perhaps was that “the letter she writes to Throgmorton is very short. I have seen it, though I could not read it. It was in the hands of Lord Robert (i.e. Leicester), who dictated it, and he carried it to the Queen for signature in my presence, Cecil not being present.”[261] Cecil, indeed, at this juncture had to proceed with great caution, and, as usual, by indirect and devious ways. Leicester, Pembroke, and their friends had now (August), as Guzman says, “no rivals, as Secretary Cecil proceeds respectfully, and the rest who might support him are absent. He knows well, however, that he is more diligent than they, and so keeps his footing.”

[204]

In the meanwhile the Catholics in England were allowed almost perfect immunity, whilst, on the other hand, strong land and sea forces were mustered, as a counterbalance to the great army to be led into Flanders by Alba. The closest friendship existed between the Spaniards and Cecil, who was never tired of assuring Guzman that Hawkins’ great expedition, then on the coast bound for Guinea, should under no circumstances do anything prejudicial in any of the territories of the King of Spain; notwithstanding which, and the fact that Philip’s Flemish fleet had just been effusively welcomed at Dover, John Hawkins himself, when the same fleet put into Plymouth, fired a few cannon shots at the flagship, and banged away until the Spanish flag was hauled down, to the unspeakable indignation of the Flemish admiral.

Things were in this condition in the autumn of 1567, all Europe being on the alert watching the gathering of the storm over the Netherlands. So long as there was any danger of French interference in Scotland, or of the Catholic powers taking up the cause of Mary Stuart, Elizabeth, and more especially Cecil, drew closer to Spain and the Catholic party in England. But events moved quickly, and the whole aspect changed within a few weeks. Almost simultaneously, in September 1567, came from different quarters two preliminary thunderclaps that announced the tempest. The advent of Alba in the Netherlands on his mission of vengeance had sent affrighted fugitives flying in swarms across the narrow seas to England; but when, on the 9th September, after the treacherous dinner-party in Brussels, the two highest heads in Flanders, Egmont and Horn, were struck at, and the bearers lodged in jail, all the world knew that the great struggle had begun between liberty and Protestantism on the one side, and tyranny[205] and Catholicism on the other. Thanks mainly to Elizabeth and Cecil, it was not to be fought out on British soil. Only a few weeks afterwards came the news of Condé’s attempt to seize the young King of France and his mother, and to rescue them from the influence of Cardinal Lorraine. The attempt failed, but soon all France was ablaze with civil war, for the Protestant worm at last had turned. Betrayed, as they had been before, and face to face now with foreign mercenaries hurried into France to suppress them, the convinced Huguenots decided to stand by their faith, and fight to the death for liberty to exercise it, let the “politicians” do what they might. The two events happening almost together, whilst Mary Stuart was in prison under a cloud, and the rebel Shan O’Neil in Ireland had finally fallen, at once relieved England of all danger from without, unless the Catholic party was irresistibly triumphant both in France and Flanders. The best way to prevent that was to support those who were in arms against it, and the policy of Elizabeth and Cecil was again cautiously changed accordingly.

As soon as the Queen received from Norris news of Condé’s rising, she sent for B?chetel, the French Ambassador, and ostentatiously condoled with him for the disrespect shown to his sovereign. She rather overdid the pity, and suggested that she should arbitrate between the King and the Huguenots, but would take care that no help was given to the latter from England. B?chetel dryly thanked her for the assurance that she would not help rebels again, but said that his King was quite able to deal with his subjects without her assistance. Here, as in the case of Mary Stuart, Elizabeth’s first feeling was indignation at any disrespect being shown to a sovereign; but Cecil’s letter to Norris at the time (November 3, 1567) shows that he and his friends looked at the matter from[206] another point of view,[262] which Elizabeth herself shortly afterwards adopted, as she had done in the case of the Queen of Scots. In the meanwhile the Council became daily more outspoken in favour of the Huguenots. Messages of encouragement went speeding across the Channel to Coligny, to Montgomerie, and the rest of the Huguenot leaders. Cecil himself took Archbishop Parker to task for his leniency to Bishop Thirlby and Dr. Boxall, who were in his custody for recusancy; and at the end of November the official blindness as to people attending mass in London came to an end. The English people who had worshipped undisturbed in the Spanish Ambassador’s chapel were suddenly arrested, and many of them sent to prison.[263] On the same day Cecil complained to Guzman that he had promoted the breaking of the law by persuading Englishmen to attend mass, and repeated other sinister reports about him. The Spaniard denied the charges, and warned Cecil that, although his present attitude might be prompted by patriotic motives, it was a dangerous one, “and that some people were casting the responsibility upon him (Cecil), for the purpose of making him unpopular.”[207] Cecil, apparently, was not afraid of this, for he had strained the loyalty of his friends almost to breaking limits lately by the severity exercised against the anti-vestment divines and his approaches to Spain, and doubtless welcomed the change in the political position which allowed him to enforce uniformity upon Catholics as well as upon his own co-religionists. There was a talk of expelling all Catholics from the Queen’s household, and Bacon, the Chancellor, made a speech in the Star Chamber directing the judges and officials to put into renewed force and press vigorously, the laws against the possession of books attacking the Protestant faith. “What most troubles the Catholics, however,” writes Guzman, “is to see that Leicester has become much more confirmed in his heresy, and is followed by the Earl of Pembroke, who had been considered a Catholic. There is nobody now on the Catholic side in the Council.”

The hollow negotiations, too, for the Archduke’s marriage, carried on by honest Sussex in Vienna, were politely shelved; and the political pretence which Elizabeth and Cecil had kept up for so long, of a leaning towards the Catholic side, could safely be discarded until the renewed liability of England to attack from without might again call for its resumption. So far the Queen and her minister had dissembled to good purpose, for the great struggle for the faith had been diverted from England to the Continent, and the monarchs of France and Spain were both busy in suppressing the religious revolts of their own subjects.