CHAPTER XI.

1560.

Successful campaign in Scotland.--Embassy of viscount Montacute to

Spain--of sir T. Chaloner to the Emperor.--Account of Chaloner.--Letter

of his respecting Dudley and the queen.--Dudley loses his

wife.--Mysterious manner of her death.--Suspicion cast upon her

husband.--Dudley and several other courtiers aspire to the hand of their

sovereign.--Tournaments in her honor.--Impresses.--Sir W.

Pickering.--Rivalry of Arundel and Dudley.

The accession of Francis II., husband to the queen of Scots, to the

French throne had renewed the dangers of Elizabeth from the hostility of

France and of Scotland; and in the politic resolution of removing from

her own territory to that of her enemies the seat of a war which she saw

to be inevitable, she levied a strong army and sent it under the command

of the duke of Norfolk and lord Grey de Wilton to the frontiers of

Scotland. She also entered into a close connexion with the protestant

party in that country, who were already in arms against the queen-regent

and her French auxiliaries. Success attended this well-planned

expedition, and at the end of a single campaign Elizabeth was able to

terminate the war by the treaty of Edinburgh; a convention the terms of

which were such as effectually to secure her from all fear of future

molestation in this quarter.

During the period of these hostilities, however, her situation was an

anxious one. It was greatly to be feared that the emperor and the king

of Spain, forgetting in their zeal for the catholic church the habitual

enmity of the house of Austria against that of Bourbon, would make

common cause with France against a sovereign who now stood forth the

avowed protectress of protestantism; and such a combination of the great

powers of Europe, seconded by a large catholic party at home, England

was by no means in a condition to withstand. By skilful negotiation it

seemed possible to avert these evils; and Elizabeth, by her selection of

diplomatic agents on this important occasion, gave striking evidence of

her superior judgement.

To plead her cause with the king of Spain, she dispatched Anthony Browne

viscount Montacute; a nobleman who, to the general recommendation of

wisdom and experience in public affairs, added the peculiar one, for

this service, of a zealous attachment to the Romish faith, proved by his

determined opposition in the house of lords to the bill of uniformity

lately carried by a great majority. The explanations and arguments of

the viscount prevailed so far with Philip, that he ordered his

ambassador at Rome to oppose the endeavours of the French court to

prevail on the pope to fulminate his ecclesiastical censures against

Elizabeth. It was found impracticable, however, to bring him to terms of

cordial amity with a heretic sovereign whose principles he both detested

and dreaded; and by returning, some time after, the decorations of the

order of the garter, he distinctly intimated to the queen, that motives

of policy alone restrained him from becoming her open enemy.

For ambassador to the emperor she made choice, at the recommendation

probably of Cecil, of his relation and beloved friend sir Thomas

Chaloner the elder, a statesman, a soldier, and a man of letters; and in

these three characters, so rarely united, one of the distinguished

ornaments of his age. He was born in 1515 of a good family in Wales,

and, being early sent to Cambridge, became known as a very elegant Latin

poet, and generally as a young man of the most promising talents. After

a short residence at court, his merit caused him to be selected to

attend into Germany sir Henry Knevet the English ambassador, with a view

to his qualifying himself for future diplomatic employment. At the court

of Charles V. he was received with extraordinary favor; and after

waiting upon that monarch, in several of his journeys, he was at length

induced, by admiration of his character, to accompany him as a volunteer

in his rash expedition against Algiers. He was shipwrecked in the storm

which almost destroyed the fleet, and only escaped drowning by catching

in his mouth, as he was struggling with the waves, a cable, by which he

was drawn up into a ship with the loss of several of his teeth.

Returning home, he was made clerk of the council, which office he held

during the remainder of Henry's reign. Early in the next he was

distinguished by the protector, and, having signalized his valor in the

battle of Pinkey, was knighted by him on the field. The fall of his

patron put a stop to his advancement; but he solaced himself under this

reverse by the cultivation of literature, and of friendship with such

men as Cook, Smith, Cheke, and Cecil. The strictness of his protestant

principles rendered his situation under the reign of Mary both

disagreeable and hazardous, and he generously added to its perils by his

strenuous exertions in behalf of the unfortunate Cheke; but the services

which he had rendered in Edward's time to many of the oppressed

catholics now interested their gratitude in his protection, and were

thus the means of preserving him unhurt for better times.

Soon after his return from his embassy to the emperor Ferdinand, we find

him engaged in a very perplexing and disagreeable mission to the

unfriendly court of Philip II., where the mortifications which he

encountered, joined to the insalubrity of the climate, so impaired his

health that he found himself obliged to solicit his recall, which he did

in an Ovidian elegy addressed to the queen. The petition of the poet was

granted, but too late; he sunk under a lingering malady in October 1565,

a few months after his return.

The poignant grief of Cecil for his loss found its best alleviation in

the exemplary performance of all the duties of surviving friendship. He

officiated as chief mourner at his funeral, and superintended with

solicitude truly paternal the education of his son, Thomas Chaloner the

younger, afterwards a distinguished character. By his encouragement, the

Latin poems of his friend, chiefly consisting of epitaphs and panegyrics

on his most celebrated contemporaries, were collected and published;

and it was under his patronage, and prefaced by a Latin poem from his

pen in praise of the author, that a new and complete edition appeared of

the principal work of this accomplished person;--a tractate "on the

right ordering of the English republic," also in Latin.

Sir Thomas Chaloner was the first ambassador named by Elizabeth; a

distinction of which he proved himself highly deserving. Wisdom and

integrity he was already known to possess; and in his negotiations with

the imperial court, where it was his business to draw the bonds of amity

as close as should be found practicable without pledging his mistress to

the acceptance of the hand of the archduke Charles, he also manifested a

degree of skill and dexterity which drew forth the warmest commendations

from Elizabeth herself. His conduct, she said, had far exceeded all her

expectations of his prudence and abilities.

This testimony may be allowed to give additional weight to his opinion

on a point of great delicacy in the personal conduct of her majesty, as

well as on some more general questions of policy, expressed in a

postscript to one of his official letters to secretary Cecil. The

letter, it should be observed, was written near the close of the year

1559, when the favor of the queen to Dudley had first become a subject

of general remark, and before all hopes were lost of her finally closing

with the proposals of the archduke.

"I assure you, sir, these folks are broad-mouthed where I spake of one

too much in favor, as they esteem. I think ye guess whom they named; if

ye do not, I will upon my next letters write further. To tell you what

I conceive; as I count the slander most false, so a young princess

cannot be too wary what countenance or familiar demonstration she

maketh, more to one than another. I judge no man's service in the realm

worth the entertainment with such a tale of obloquy, or occasion of

speech to such men as of evil will are ready to find faults. This delay

of ripe time for marriage, besides the loss of the realm (for without

posterity of her highness what hope is left unto us?) ministereth matter

to these leud tongues to descant upon, and breedeth contempt. I would I

had but one hour's talk with you. Think if I trusted not your good

nature, I would not write thus much; which nevertheless I humbly pray

you to reserve as written to yourself.

"Consider how ye deal now in the emperor's matter: much dependeth on it.

Here they hang in expectation as men desirous it should go forward, but

yet they have small hope: In mine opinion (be it said to you only) the

affinity is great and honorable: The amity necessary to stop and cool

many enterprises. Ye need not fear his greatness should overrule you; he

is not a Philip, but better for us than a Philip. Let the time work for

Scotland as God will, for sure the French, I believe, shall never long

enjoy them: and when we be stronger and more ready, we may proceed with

that, that is yet unripe. The time itself will work, when our great

neighbours fall out next. In the mean time settle we things begun; and

let us arm and fortify our frontiers." &c.[46]

[Note 46: "Burleigh Papers," by Haynes, p. 212.]

Sufficient evidence remains that the sentiments of Cecil respecting the

queen's behaviour to Dudley coincided with those of his friend, and that

fears for her reputation gave additional urgency about this period to

those pleadings in favor of matrimony which her council were doomed to

press upon her attention so often and so much in vain. But a

circumstance occurred soon after which totally changed the nature of

their apprehensions respecting her future conduct, and rendered her

anticipated choice of a husband no longer an object of hope and joy, but

of general dissatisfaction and alarm.

Just when the whispered scandal of the court had apprized him how

obvious to all beholders the partiality of his sovereign had

become,--just when her rejection of the proposals of so many foreign

princes had confirmed the suspicion that her heart had given itself at

home,--just, in short, when every thing conspired to sanction hopes

which under any other circumstances would have appeared no less

visionary than presumptuous,--at the very juncture most favorable to his

ambition, but most perilous to his reputation, lord Robert Dudley lost

his wife, and by a fate equally sudden and mysterious.

This unfortunate lady had been sent by her husband, under the conduct of

sir Richard Verney, one of his retainers,--but for what reason or under

what pretext does not appear,--to Cumnor House in Berkshire, a solitary

mansion inhabited by Anthony Foster, also a dependent of Dudley's and

bound to him by particular obligations. Here she soon after met with her

death; and Verney and Foster, who appear to have been alone in the

house with her, gave out that it happened by an accidental fall down

stairs. But this account, from various causes, gained so little credit

in the neighbourhood, that reports of the most sinister import were

quickly propagated. These discourses soon reached the ears of Thomas

Lever, a prebendary of Coventry and a very conscientious person, who

immediately addressed to the secretaries of state an earnest letter,

still extant, beseeching them to cause strict inquiry to be made into

the case, as it was commonly believed that the lady had been murdered:

but he mentioned no particular grounds of this belief, and it cannot now

be ascertained whether any steps were taken in consequence of his

application. If there were, they certainly produced no satisfactory

explanation of the circumstance; for not only the popular voice, which

was ever hostile to Dudley, continued to accuse him as the contriver of

her fate, but Cecil himself, in a memorandum drawn up some years after

of reasons against the queen's making him her husband, mentions among

other objections, "that he is infamed by the death of his wife."

Whether the thorough investigation of this matter was evaded by the

artifices of Dudley, or whether his enemies, finding it impracticable to

bring the crime home to him, found it more advisable voluntarily to drop

the inquiry, certain it is, that the queen was never brought in any

manner to take cognisance of the affair, and that the credit of Dudley

continued as high with her as ever. But in the opinion of the country

the favorite passed ever after for a dark designer, capable of

perpetrating any secret villainy in furtherance of his designs, and

skilful enough to conceal his atrocity under a cloak of artifice and

hypocrisy impervious to the partial eyes of his royal mistress, though

penetrated by all the world besides. This idea of his character caused

him afterwards to be accused of practising against the lives of several

other persons who were observed to perish opportunely for his purposes.

Each of these charges will be particularly examined in its proper place;

but it ought here to be observed, that not one of them appears to be

supported by so many circumstances of probability as the first; and even

in support of this, no direct evidence has ever been adduced.

Under all the circumstances of his situation, Dudley could not venture

as yet openly to declare himself the suitor of his sovereign; but she

doubtless knew how to interpret both the vehemence of his opposition to

the pretensions of the archduke, and the equal vehemence with which

those pretensions were supported by an opposite party in her council, of

which the earl of Sussex was the head.

Few could yet be persuaded that the avowed determination of the queen in

favor of the single state would prove unalterable: most therefore who

observed her averseness to a foreign connexion believed that she was

secretly meditating to honor with her hand some subject of her own, who

could never have a separate interest from that of his country, and whose

gratitude for the splendid distinction would secure to her the

possession of his lasting attachment.

This idea long served to animate the assiduities of her nobles and

courtiers, and two or three besides Dudley were bold enough to publish

their pretensions. Secret hopes or wishes were cherished in the bosoms

of others; and it thus became a fashion to accost her in language where

the passionate homage of the lover mingled with the base adulation of

the menial. Her personal vanity, triumphant over her good sense and her

perceptions of regal dignity, forbade her to discourage a style of

address equally disgraceful to those who employed and to her who

permitted it; and it was this unfortunate habit of receiving, and at

length requiring, a species of flattery which became every year more

grossly preposterous, which depraved by degrees her taste, infected her

whole disposition, and frequently lent to the wisest sovereign of Europe

the disgusting affectation of a heroine of French romance.

Tilts and tournaments were still the favorite amusements of all the

courts of Europe; and it was in these splendid exhibitions that the

rival courtiers of Elizabeth found the happiest occasions of displaying

their magnificence, giving proof of their courage and agility, and at

the same time insinuating, by a variety of ingenious devices, their

hopes and fears, their amorous pains, and their profound devotedness to

her service.

In the purer ages of chivalry, no other cognisances on shields were

adopted, either in war or in these games which were its image, than the

armorial bearings which each warrior had derived from his ancestors, or

solemnly received at the hands of the heralds before he entered on his

first campaign. But as the spirit of the original institution declined,

and the French fashion of gallantry began to be engrafted upon it, an

innovation had taken place in this matter, which is thus commemorated

and deplored by the worthy Camden, Clarencieux king-at-arms, who treats

the subject with a minuteness and solemnity truly professional.

"Whoever," says he, "would note the manners of our progenitors,--in

wearing their coat-armour over their harness, and bearing their arms in

their shields, their banners and pennons, and in what formal manner they

were made bannerets, and had license to rear their banner of arms, which

they presented rolled up, unto the prince, who unfolded and re-delivered

it with happy wishes; I doubt not but he will judge that our ancestors

were as valiant and gallant as they have been since they left off their

arms and used the colors and curtains of their mistress' bed instead of

them." The same author afterwards observes, that these fopperies, as

well as the adoption of _impresses_, first prevailed in the expedition

of Charles VIII. against Naples in 1494, and that it was about the

beginning of the reign of Henry VIII. that the English wits first

thought of imitating the French and Italians in the invention of these

devices.

An _impress_, it seems, was an emblematical device assumed at the will

of the bearer, and illustrated by a suitable motto; whereas the coat of

arms had either no motto, or none appropriate. Of this nature therefore

was the representation of an English archer, with the words "Cui adhaereo

praeest" (He prevails to whom I adhere), used by Henry VIII. at his

meeting with Charles and Francis.

Elizabeth delighted in these whimsical inventions. Camden says that she

"used upon different occasions so many heroical devices as would require

a volume," but most commonly a sieve without a word. Her favorite mottos

were "Video taceo" (I see and am silent), and "Semper eadem" (Always the

same). Thus patronized, the use of impresses became general. Scarcely a

public character of that age, whether statesman, courtier, scholar, or

soldier, was unprovided with some distinction of this nature; and at

tournaments in particular, the combatants all vied with each other in

the invention of occasional devices, sometimes quaintly, sometimes

elegantly, expressive of their situation or sentiments, and for the most

part conveying some allusion at once gallant and loyal.

It may be worth while to cite a few of the most remarkable of these out

of a considerable number preserved by Camden. The prevalence amongst

them of astronomical emblems is worthy of observation, as indicative of

that general belief of the age in the delusions of judicial astrology,

which rendered its terms familiar alike to the learned, the great, and

the fair.

A dial with the sun setting, "Occasu desines esse" (Thy being ceases

with its setting). The sun shining on a bush, "Si deseris pereo"

(Forsake me, and I perish). The sun reflecting his rays from the bearer,

"Quousque avertes" (How long wilt thou avert thy face)? Venus in a

cloud, "Salva me, Domina" (Mistress, save me). The letter I, "Omnia ex

uno" (All things from one). A fallow field, "At quando messis" (When

will be the harvest)? The full moon in heaven, "Quid sine te coelum"

(What is heaven without thee)? Cynthia, it should be observed, was a

favorite fancy-name of the queen's; she was also designated occasionally

by that of Astraea, whence the following devices. A man hovering in the

air, "Feror ad Astraeam" (I am borne to Astraea). The zodiac with Virgo

rising, "Jam redit et Virgo" (The Maid returns); and a zodiac with no

characters but those of Leo and Virgo, "His ego praesidiis" (With these

to friend). A star, "Mihi vita Spica Virginis" (My life is in Spica

Virginis)--a star in the left hand of Virgo so called: here the allusion

was probably double; to the queen, and to the horoscope of the bearer.

The twelve houses of heaven with neither sign nor planet therein,

"Dispone" (Dispose). A white shield, "Fatum inscribat Eliza" (Eliza

writes my fate). An eye in a heart, "Vulnus alo" (I feed the wound). A

ship sinking and the rainbow appearing, "Quid tu si pereo" (To what

avail if I perish)? As the rainbow is an emblem seen in several

portraits of the queen, this device probably reproaches some tardy and

ineffectual token of her favor. The sun shining on a withered tree which

blooms again, "His radiis rediviva viresco" (These rays revive me). A

pair of scales, fire in one, smoke in the other, "Ponderare errare" (To

weigh is to err).

At one tilt were borne all the following devices, which Camden

particularly recommends to the notice and interpretation of the reader.

Many flies about a candle, "Sic splendidiora petuntur" ("Thus brighter

things are sought). Drops falling into a fire, "Tamen non extinguenda"

(Yet not to be extinguished). The sun, partly clouded over, casting its

rays upon a star, "Tantum quantum" (As much as is vouchsafed). A folded

letter, "Lege et relege"[47] (Read and reread).

[Note 47: See Camden's "Remains."]

It would have increased our interest in these very significant

impresses, if our author could have informed us who were the respective

bearers. Perhaps conjecture would not err in ascribing one of the most

expressive to sir William Pickering, a gentleman whose name has been

handed down to posterity as an avowed pretender to the royal marriage.

That a person illustrious neither by rank nor ancestry, and so little

known to fame that no other mention of him occurs in the history of the

age, should ever have been named amongst the suitors of his sovereign,

is a circumstance which must excite more curiosity than the scanty

biographical records of the time will be found capable of satisfying. A

single paragraph of Camden's Annals seems to contain nearly all that can

now be learned of a man once so remarkable.

"Nor were lovers wanting at home, who deluded themselves with vain hopes

of obtaining her in marriage. Namely sir William Pickering, a man of

good family though little wealth, and who had obtained reputation by the

cultivation of letters, by the elegance of his manners, and by his

embassies to France and Germany." &c.

Rapin speaks of him as one who was encouraged to hope by some

distinguished mark of the queen's favor, which he does not however

particularize. Lloyd in his "Worthies" adds nothing to Camden's

information but the epithet "comely" applied to his person, the vague

statement that "his embassies in France and Germany were so well

managed, that in king Edward's days he was by the council pitched upon

as the oracle whereby our agents were to be guided abroad," and a hint

that he soon retired from the court of Elizabeth to devote himself to

his studies.

The earl of Arundel might be the bearer of another of these devices. We

have already seen with what magnificence of homage this nobleman had

endeavoured to bespeak the favorable sentiments of his youthful

sovereign; and if illustrious ancestry, vast possessions, established

consequence in the state, and long experience in public affairs, might

have sufficed to recommend a subject to her choice, none could have

advanced fairer pretensions than the representative of the ancient house

of Fitzalan. The advanced age of the earl was indeed an objection of

considerable and daily increasing weight; he persevered however in his

suit, notwithstanding the queen's visible preference of Dudley and every

other circumstance of discouragement, till the year 1566. Losing then

all hopes of success, and becoming sensible at length of pecuniary

difficulties from the vast expense which he had lavished on this

splendid courtship, he solicited the permission of his royal mistress to

retire for a time into Italy.

While it lasted, however, the rivalry of Arundel and Dudley, or rather,

in the heraldic phraseology of the day, that of the White Horse and the

Bear, divided the court, inflamed the passions of the numerous retainers

of the respective candidates, and but for the impartial vigilance of

Cecil might have ended in deeds of blood.

In the Burleigh Papers is a confession of one Guntor, a servant or

retainer of the earl of Arundel, who was punished for certain rash

speeches relative to this competition, from which we learn some curious

particulars. He says, that he once fell in talk with a gentleman named

Cotton, who told him, that the queen, having supped one evening at lord

Robert Dudley's, it was dark before she could get away; and some

servants of the house were sent with torches to light her home. That by

the way her highness was pleased to enter into conversation with the

torch-bearers, and was reported to have said, that she would make their

lord the best that ever was of his name. As the father of lord Robert

was a duke, this promise was understood to imply nothing less than her

design of marrying him. On this Guntor answered, that he prayed all men

might take it well, and that no trouble might arise thereof; afterwards

he said, that he thought if a parliament were held, some men would

recommend lord Robert, and some his own master to the queen for a

husband; and so it might fortune there would rise trouble among the

noblemen, adding, "I trust the White Horse will be in quiet, and so

shall we be out of trouble; it is well known _his_ blood as yet was

never attaint, nor was he ever man of war, wherefore it is likely that

we shall sit still; but if he should stomach it, he were able to make a

great power." In his zeal for the cause of his lord, he also wished that

his rival had been put to death with his father, "or that some ruffian

would have dispatched him by the way as he hath gone, with some dag

(pistol) or gun."

So high did words run on occasion of this great contest.

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