CHAPTER VIII.

Forlorn Condition of Flanders--Parma's secret Negotiations with the

Queen--Grafigni and Bodman--Their Dealings with English Counsellors

--Duplicity of Farnese--Secret Offers of the English Peace-Party--

Letters and Intrigues of De Loo--Drake's Victories and their Effect

--Parma's Perplexity and Anxiety--He is relieved by the News from

England--Queen's secret Letters to Parma--His Letters and

Instructions to Bodman--Bodman's secret Transactions at Greenwich--

Walsingham detects and exposes the Plot--The Intriguers baffled--

Queen's Letter to Parma and his to the King--Unlucky Results of the

Peace--Intrigues--Unhandsome Treatment of Leicester--Indignation of

the Earl and Walsingham--Secret Letter of Parma to Philip--Invasion

of England recommended--Details of the Project.

Alexander Farnese and his heroic little army had been left by their

sovereign in as destitute a condition as that in which Lord Leicester and

his unfortunate "paddy persons" had found themselves since their arrival

in the Netherlands. These mortal men were but the weapons to be used and

broken in the hands of the two great sovereigns, already pitted against

each other in mortal combat. That the distant invisible potentate,

the work of whose life was to do his best to destroy all European

nationality, all civil and religious freedom, should be careless of

the instruments by which his purpose was to be effected, was but natural.

It is painful to reflect that the great champion of liberty and of

Protestantism was almost equally indifferent to the welfare of the human

creatures enlisted in her cause. Spaniards and Italians, English and

Irish, went half naked and half starving through the whole inclement

winter, and perished of pestilence in droves, after confronting the

less formidable dangers of battlefield and leaguer. Manfully and

sympathetically did the Earl of Leicester--while whining in absurd

hyperbole over the angry demeanour of his sovereign towards himself-

represent the imperative duty of an English government to succour English

troops.

Alexander Farnese was equally plain-spoken to a sovereign with whom

plain-speaking was a crime. In bold, almost scornful language, the

Prince represented to Philip the sufferings and destitution of the

little band of heroes, by whom that magnificent military enterprise,

the conquest of Antwerp, had just been effected. "God will be weary of

working miracles for us," he cried, "and nothing but miracles can save

the troops from starving." There was no question of paying them their

wages, there was no pretence at keeping them reasonably provided with

lodging and clothing, but he asserted the undeniable proposition that

they "could not pass their lives without eating," and he implored his

sovereign to send at least money enough to buy the soldiers shoes.

To go foodless and barefoot without complaining, on the frozen swamps of

Flanders, in January, was more than was to be expected from Spaniards and

Italians. The country itself was eaten bare. The obedient Provinces had

reaped absolute ruin as the reward of their obedience. Bruges, Ghent,

and the other cities of Brabant and Flanders, once so opulent and

powerful, had become mere dens of thieves and paupers. Agriculture,

commerce, manufactures--all were dead. The condition of Antwerp was most

tragical. The city, which had been so recently the commercial centre of

the earth, was reduced to absolute beggary. Its world-wide traffic was

abruptly terminated, for the mouth of its great river was controlled by

Flushing, and Flushing was in the firm grasp of Sir Philip Sidney, as

governor for the English Queen. Merchants and bankers, who had lately

been possessed of enormous resources, were stripped of all. Such of the

industrial classes as could leave the place had wandered away to Holland

and England. There was no industry possible, for there was no market for

the products of industry. Antwerp was hemmed in by the enemy on every

side, surrounded by royal troops in a condition of open mutiny, cut off

from the ocean, deprived of daily bread, and yet obliged to contribute

out of its poverty to the maintenance of the Spanish soldiers, who were

there for its destruction. Its burghers, compelled to furnish four

hundred thousand florins, as the price of their capitulation, and at

least six hundred thousand more for the repairs of the dykes, the

destruction of which, too long deferred, had only spread desolation over

the country without saving the city, and over and above all forced to

rebuild, at their own expense, that fatal citadel, by which their liberty

and lives were to be perpetually endangered, might now regret at leisure

that they had not been as stedfast during their siege as had been the

heroic inhabitants of Leyden in their time of trial, twelve years before.

Obedient Antwerp was, in truth, most forlorn. But there was one

consolation for her and for Philip, one bright spot in the else universal

gloom. The ecclesiastics assured Parma, that, notwithstanding the

frightful diminution in the population of the city, they had confessed

and absolved more persons that Easter than they had ever done since the

commencement of the revolt. Great was Philip's joy in consequence.

"You cannot imagine my satisfaction," he wrote, "at the news you give me

concerning last Easter."

With a ruined country, starving and mutinous troops, a bankrupt

exchequer, and a desperate and pauper population, Alexander Farnese was

not unwilling to gain time by simulated negotiations for peace. It was

strange, however, that so sagacious a monarch as the Queen of England

should suppose it for her interest to grant at that moment the very delay

which was deemed most desirable by her antagonist.

Yet it was not wounded affection alone, nor insulted pride, nor startled

parsimony, that had carried the fury of the Queen to such a height on the

occasion of Leicester's elevation to absolute government. It was still

more, because the step was thought likely to interfere with the progress

of those negotiations into which the Queen had allowed herself to be

drawn.

A certain Grafigni--a Genoese merchant residing much in London and in

Antwerp, a meddling, intrusive, and irresponsible kind of individual,

whose occupation was gone with the cessation of Flemish trade--had

recently made his appearance as a volunteer diplomatist. The principal

reason for accepting or rather for winking at his services, seemed to be

the possibility of disavowing him, on both sides, whenever it should be

thought advisable. He had a partner or colleague, too, named Bodman,

who seemed a not much more creditable negotiator than himself. The chief

director of the intrigue was, however, Champagny, brother of Cardinal

Granvelle, restored to the King's favour and disposed to atone by his

exuberant loyalty for his heroic patriotism on a former and most

memorable occasion. Andrea de Loo, another subordinate politician, was

likewise employed at various stages of the negotiation.

It will soon be perceived that the part enacted by Burghley, Hatton,

Croft, and other counsellors, and even by the Queen herself, was not a

model of ingenuousness towards the absent Leicester and the States-

General. The gentlemen sent at various times to and from the Earl and

her Majesty's government; Davison, Shirley, Vavasor, Heneage, and the

rest--had all expressed themselves in the strongest language concerning

the good faith and the friendliness of the Lord-Treasurer and the Vice-

Chamberlain, but they were not so well informed as they would have been,

had they seen the private letters of Parma to Philip II.

Walsingham, although kept in the dark as much as it was possible,

discovered from time to time the mysterious practices of his political

antagonists, and warned the Queen of the danger and dishonour she was

bringing upon herself. Elizabeth, when thus boldly charged, equivocated

and stormed alternately. She authorized Walsingham to communicate the

secrets--which he had thus surprised--to the States-General, and then

denied having given any such orders.

In truth, Walsingham was only entrusted with such portions of the

negotiations as he had been able, by his own astuteness, to divine; and

as he was very much a friend to the Provinces and to Leicester, he never

failed to keep them instructed, to the best of his ability. It must be

confessed, however, that the shuffling and paltering among great men and

little men, at that period, forms a somewhat painful subject of

contemplation at the present day.

Grafigni having some merchandise to convey from Antwerp to London, went

early in the year to the Prince of Parma, at Brussels, in order to

procure a passport. They entered into some conversation upon the misery

of the country, and particularly concerning the troubles to which the

unfortunate merchants had been exposed. Alexander expressed much

sympathy with the commercial community, and a strong desire that the

ancient friendship between his master and the Queen of England might be

restored. Grafigni assured the Prince--as the result of his own

observation in England--that the Queen participated in those pacific

sentiments: "You are going to England," replied the Prince, "and you may

say to the ministers of her Majesty, that, after my allegiance to my

King, I am most favourably and affectionately inclined towards her. If

it pleases them that I, as Alexander Farnese, should attempt to bring

about an accord, and if our commissioners could be assured of a hearing

in England, I would take care that everything should be conducted with

due regard to the honour and reputation of her Majesty."

Grafigni then asked for a written letter of credence. "That cannot be,"

replied Alexander; "but if you return to me I shall believe your report,

and then a proper person can be sent, with authority from the King to

treat with her Majesty."

Grafigni proceeded to England, and had an interview with Lord Cobham.

A few days later that nobleman gave the merchant a general assurance

that the Queen had always felt a strong inclination to maintain firm

friendship with the House of Burgundy. Nevertheless, as he proceeded

to state, the bad policy of the King's ministers, and the enterprises

against her Majesty, had compelled her to provide for her own security

and that of her realm by remedies differing in spirit from that good

inclination. Being however a Christian princess, willing to leave

vengeance to the Lord and disposed to avoid bloodshed, she was ready

to lend her ear to a negotiation for peace, if it were likely to be a

sincere and secure one. Especially she was pleased that his Highness

of Parma should act as mediator of such a treaty, as she considered him

a most just and honourable prince in all his promises and actions. Her

Majesty would accordingly hold herself in readiness to receive the

honourable commissioners alluded to, feeling sure that every step taken

by his Highness would comport with her honour and safety.

At about the same time the other partner in this diplomatic enterprise,

William Bodman, communicated to Alexander, the result of his observations

in England. He stated that Lords Burghley, Buckhurst, and Cobham, Sir

Christopher Hatton, and Comptroller Croft, were secretly desirous of

peace with Spain and that they had seized the recent opportunity of her

pique against the Earl of Leicester to urge forward these underhand

negotiations. Some progress had been made; but as no accredited

commissioner arrived from the Prince of Parma, and as Leicester was

continually writing earnest letters against peace, the efforts of these

counsellors had slackened. Bodman found them all, on his arrival,

anxious as he said, "to get their necks out of the matter;" declaring

everything which had been done to be pure matter of accident, entirely

without the concurrence of the Queen, and each seeking to outrival the

other in the good graces of her Majesty. Grafigni informed Bodman,

however, that Lord Cobham was quite to be depended upon in the affair,

and would deal with him privately, while Lord Burghley would correspond

with Andrea de Loo at Antwerp. Moreover, the servant of Comptroller

Croft would direct Bodman as to his course, and would give him daily

instructions.

Now it so happened that this servant of Croft, Norris by name, was a

Papist, a man of bad character, and formerly a spy of the Duke of Anjou.

"If your Lordship or myself should use such instruments as this," wrote

Walsingham to Leicester, "I know we should bear no small reproach; but

it is the good hap of hollow and doubtful men to be best thought of."

Bodman thought the lords of the peace-faction and their adherents not

sufficiently strong to oppose the other party with success. He assured

Farnese that almost all the gentlemen and the common people of England

stood ready to risk their fortunes and to go in person to the field to

maintain the cause of the Queen and religious liberty; and that the

chance of peace was desperate unless something should turn the tide, such

as, for example, the defeat of Drake, or an invasion by Philip of Ireland

or Scotland.

As it so happened that Drake was just then engaged in a magnificent

career of victory, sweeping the Spanish Main and startling the nearest

and the most remote possessions of the King with English prowess, his

defeat was not one of the cards to be relied on by the peace-party in the

somewhat deceptive game which they had commenced. Yet, strange to say,

they used, or attempted to use, those splendid triumphs as if they had

been disasters.

Meantime there was an active but very secret correspondence between Lord

Cobham, Lord Burghley, Sir James Croft, and various subordinate

personages in England, on the one side, and Champagny, President

Richardot, La Motte, governor of Gravelines, Andrea de Loo, Grafigni, and

other men in the obedient Provinces, more or less in Alexander's

confidence, on the other side. Each party was desirous of forcing or

wheedling the antagonist to show his hand. "You were employed to take

soundings off the English coast in the Duke of Norfolk's time," said

Cobham to La Motte: "you remember the Duke's fate. Nevertheless, her

Majesty hates war, and it only depends on the King to have a firm and

lasting peace."

"You must tell Lord Cobham," said Richardot to La Motte, "that you

are not at liberty to go into a correspondence, until assured of the

intentions of Queen Elizabeth. Her Majesty ought to speak first,

in order to make her good-will manifest," and so on.

"The 'friend' can confer with you," said Richardot to Champagny; "but his

Highness is not to appear to know anything at all about it. The Queen

must signify her intentions."

"You answered Champagny correctly," said Burghley to De Loo, "as to what

I said last winter concerning her Majesty's wishes in regard to a

pacification. The Netherlands must be compelled to return to obedience

to the King; but their ancient privileges are to be maintained. You

omitted, however, to say a word about toleration, in the Provinces, of

the reformed religion. But I said then, as I say now, that this is a

condition indispensable to peace."

This was a somewhat important omission on the part of De Loo, and gives

the measure of his conscientiousness or his capacity as a negotiator.

Certainly for the Lord-Treasurer of England to offer, on the part of her

Majesty, to bring about the reduction of her allies under the yoke which

they had thrown off without her assistance, and this without leave asked

of them, and with no provision for the great principle of religious

liberty, which was the cause of the revolt, was a most flagitious

trifling with the honour of Elizabeth and of England. Certainly the more

this mysterious correspondence is examined, the more conclusive is the

justification of the vague and instinctive jealousy felt by Leicester and

the States-General as to English diplomacy during the winter and spring

of 1586.

Burghley summoned De Loo, accordingly, to recall to his memory all that

had been privately said to him on the necessity of protecting the

reformed religion in the Provinces. If a peace were to be perpetual,

toleration was indispensable, he observed, and her Majesty was said to

desire this condition most earnestly.

The Lord-Treasurer also made the not unreasonable suggestion, that, in

case of a pacification, it would be necessary to provide that English

subjects--peaceful traders, mariners, and the like--should no longer be

shut up in the Inquisition prisons of Spain and Portugal, and there

starved to death, as, with great multitudes, had already been the case.

Meantime Alexander, while encouraging and directing all these underhand

measures, was carefully impressing upon his master that he was not, in

the least degree; bound by any such negotiations. "Queen Elizabeth," he

correctly observed to Philip, "is a woman: she is also by no means fond

of expense. The kingdom, accustomed to repose, is already weary of war

therefore, they are all pacifically inclined." "It has been intimated to

me," he said, "that if I would send a properly qualified person, who

should declare that your Majesty had not absolutely forbidden the coming

of Lord Leicester, such an agent would be well received, and perhaps the

Earl would be recalled." Alexander then proceeded, with the coolness

befitting a trusted governor of Philip II., to comment upon the course

which he was pursuing. He could at any time denounce the negotiations

which he was secretly prompting. Meantime immense advantages could be

obtained by the deception practised upon an enemy whose own object was

to deceive.

The deliberate treachery of the scheme was cynically enlarged upon, and

its possible results mathematically calculated:

Philip was to proceed with the invasion while Alexander was going on with

the negotiation. If, meanwhile, they could receive back Holland and

Zeeland from the hands of England, that would be an immense success. The

Prince intimated a doubt, however, as to so fortunate a result, because,

in dealing with heretics and persons of similar quality, nothing but

trickery was to be expected. The chief good to be hoped for was to

"chill the Queen in her plots, leagues, and alliances," and during the

chill, to carry forward their own great design. To slacken not a whit

in their preparations, to "put the Queen to sleep," and, above all, not

to leave the French for a moment unoccupied with internal dissensions and

civil war; such was the game of the King and the governor, as expounded

between themselves.

President Richardot, at the same time, stated to Cardinal Granvelle that

the English desire for peace was considered certain at Brussels.

Grafigni had informed the Prince of Parma and his counsellors that the

Queen was most amicably disposed, and that there would be no trouble on

the point of religion, her Majesty not wishing to obtain more than she

would herself be willing to grant. "In this," said Richardot, "there is

both hard and soft;" for knowing that the Spanish game was deception,

pure and simple, the excellent President could not bring himself to

suspect a possible grain of good faith in the English intentions. Much

anxiety was perpetually felt in the French quarter, her Majesty's

government being supposed to be secretly preparing an invasion of the

obedient Netherlands across the French frontier, in combination, not with

the Bearnese, but with Henry III. So much in the dark were even the most

astute politicians. "I can't feel satisfied in this French matter," said

the President: "we mustn't tickle ourselves to make ourselves laugh."

Moreover, there was no self-deception nor self-tickling possible as to

the unmitigated misery of the obedient Netherlands. Famine was a more

formidable foe than Frenchmen, Hollanders, and Englishmen combined; so

that Richardot avowed that the "negotiation would be indeed holy," if it

would restore Holland and Zeeland to the King without fighting. The

prospect seemed on the whole rather dismal to loyal Netherlanders like

the old leaguing, intriguing, Hispamolized president of the privy

council. "I confess," said he plaintively, "that England needs

chastisement; but I don't see how we are to give it to her. Only let us

secure Holland and Zeeland, and then we shall always find a stick

whenever we like to beat the dog."

Meantime Andrea de Loo had been bustling and buzzing about the ears of

the chief counsellors at the English court during all the early spring.

Most busily he had been endeavouring to efface the prevalent suspicion

that Philip and Alexander were only trifling by these informal

negotiations. We have just seen whether or not there was ground for that

suspicion. De Loo, being importunate, however--"as he usually was,"

according to his own statement--obtained in Burghley's hand a

confirmation, by order of the Queen, of De Loo's--letter of the 26th

December. The matter of religion gave the worthy merchant much

difficulty, and he begged Lord Buckhurst, the Lord Treasurer, and many

other counsellors, not to allow this point of toleration to ruin the

whole affair; "for," said he, "his Majesty will never permit any exercise

of the reformed religion."

At last Buckhurst sent for him, and in presence of Comptroller Croft,

gave him information that he had brought the Queen to this conclusion:

firstly, that she would be satisfied with as great a proportion of

religious toleration for Holland, Zeeland, and the other United

Provinces, as his Majesty could concede with safety to his conscience and

his honour; secondly, that she required an act of amnesty; thirdly, that

she claimed reimbursement by Philip for the money advanced by her to the

States.

Certainly a more wonderful claim was never made than this--a demand upon

an absolute monarch for indemnity for expenses incurred in fomenting a

rebellion of his own subjects. The measure of toleration proposed for

the Provinces--the conscience, namely, of the greatest bigot ever born

into the world--was likely to prove as satisfactory as the claim for

damages propounded by the most parsimonious sovereign in Christendom. It

was, however, stipulated that the nonconformists of Holland and Zeeland,

who should be forced into exile, were to have their property administered

by papist trustees; and further, that the Spanish inquisition was not to

be established in the Netherlands. Philip could hardly demand better

terms than these last, after a career of victory. That they should be

offered now by Elizabeth was hardly compatible with good faith to the

States.

On account of Lord Burghley's gout, it was suggested that the negotiators

had better meet in England, as it would be necessary for him to take the

lead in the matters and as he was but an indifferent traveller. Thus,

according to De Loo, the Queen was willing to hand over the United

Provinces to Philip, and to toss religious toleration to the winds, if

she could only get back the seventy thousand pounds--more or less--which

she had invested in an unpromising speculation. A few weeks later, and

at almost the very moment when Elizabeth had so suddenly overturned her

last vial of wrath upon the discomfited Heneage for having communicated

--according to her express command--the fact of the pending negotiations

to the Netherland States; at that very instant Parma was writing

secretly, and in cipher, to Philip. His communication--could Sir Thomas

have read it--might have partly explained her Majesty's rage.

Parma had heard, he said, through Bodman, from Comptroller Croft, that

the Queen would willingly receive a proper envoy. It was very easy to

see, he observed, that the English counsellors were seeking every means

of entering into communication with Spain, and that they were doing so

with the participation of the Queen! Lord-Treasurer Burghley and

Comptroller Croft had expressed surprise that the Prince had not yet sent

a secret agent to her Majesty, under pretext of demanding explanations

concerning Lord Leicester's presence in the Provinces, but in reality to

treat for peace. Such an agent, it had been intimated, would be well

received. The Lord-Treasurer and the Comptroller would do all in their

power to advance the negotiation, so that, with their aid and with the

pacific inclination of the Queen, the measures proposed in favour of

Leicester would be suspended, and perhaps the Earl himself and all the

English would be recalled.

The Queen was further represented as taking great pains to excuse both

the expedition of Sir Francis Drake to the Indies, and the mission of

Leicester to the Provinces. She was said to throw the whole blame of

these enterprises upon Walsingham and other ill-intentioned personages,

and to avow that she now understood matters better; so that, if Parma

would at once send an envoy, peace would, without question, soon be made.

Parma had expressed his gratification at these hopeful dispositions on

the part of Burghley and Croft, and held out hopes of sending an agent to

treat with them, if not directly with her Majesty. For some time past--

according to the Prince--the English government had not seemed to be

honestly seconding the Earl of Leicester, nor to correspond with his

desires. "This makes me think," he said, "that the counsellors before-

mentioned, being his rivals, are trying to trip him up."

In such a caballing, prevaricating age, it is difficult to know which of

all the plotters and counterplotters engaged in these intrigues could

accomplish the greatest amount of what--for the sake of diluting in nine

syllables that which could be more forcibly expressed in one--was then

called diplomatic dissimulation. It is to be feared, notwithstanding her

frequent and vociferous denials, that the robes of the "imperial

votaress" were not so unsullied as could be wished. We know how loudly

Leicester had complained--we have seen how clearly Walsingham could

convict; but Elizabeth, though convicted, could always confute: for an

absolute sovereign, even without resorting to Philip's syllogisms of axe

and faggot, was apt in the sixteenth century to have the best of an

argument with private individuals.

The secret statements of Parma-made, not for public effect, but for

the purpose of furnishing his master with the most accurate information

he could gather as to English policy--are certainly entitled to

consideration. They were doubtless founded upon the statements

of individuals rejoicing in no very elevated character; but those

individuals had no motive to deceive their patron. If they clashed

with the vehement declarations of very eminent personages, it must be

admitted, on the other hand, that they were singularly in accordance with

the silent eloquence of important and mysterious events.

As to Alexander Farnese--without deciding the question whether Elizabeth

and Burghley were deceiving Walsingham and Leicester, or only trying to

delude Philip and himself--he had no hesitation, of course, on his part,

in recommending to Philip the employment of unlimited dissimulation.

Nothing could be more ingenuous than the intercourse between the King and

his confidential advisers. It was perfectly understood among them that

they were always to deceive every one, upon every occasion. Only let

them be false, and it was impossible to be wholly wrong; but grave

mistakes might occur from occasional deviations into sincerity. It was

no question at all, therefore, that it was Parma's duty to delude

Elizabeth and Burghley. Alexander's course was plain. He informed his

master that he would keep these difficulties alive as much as it was

possible. In order to "put them all to sleep with regard to the great

enterprise of the invasion," he would send back Bodman to Burghley and

Croft, and thus keep this unofficial negotiation upon its legs. The King

was quite uncommitted, and could always disavow what had been done.

Meanwhile he was gaining, and his adversaries losing, much precious time.

"If by this course," said Parma, "we can induce the English to hand over

to us the places which they hold in Holland and Zeeland, that will be a

great triumph." Accordingly he urged the King not to slacken, in the

least, his preparations for invasion, and, above all, to have a care that

the French were kept entangled and embarrassed among themselves, which

was a most substantial point.

Meantime Europe was ringing with the American successes of the bold

corsair Drake. San Domingo, Porto Rico, Santiago, Cartliagena, Florida,

were sacked and destroyed, and the supplies drawn so steadily from the

oppression of the Western World to maintain Spanish tyranny in Europe,

were for a time extinguished. Parma was appalled at these triumphs of

the Sea-King--"a fearful man to the King of Spain"--as Lord Burghley well

observed. The Spanish troops were starving in Flanders, all Flanders

itself was starving, and Philip, as usual, had sent but insignificant

remittances to save his perishing soldiers. Parma had already exhausted

his credit. Money was most difficult to obtain in such a forlorn

country; and now the few rich merchants and bankers of Antwerp that were

left looked very black at these crushing news from America. "They are

drawing their purse-strings very tight," said Alexander, "and will make

no accommodation. The most contemplative of them ponder much over this

success of Drake, and think that your Majesty will forget our matters

here altogether." For this reason he informed the King that it would be

advisable to drop all further negotiation with England for the time, as

it was hardly probable that, with such advantages gained by the Queen,

she would be inclined to proceed in the path which had been just secretly

opened. Moreover, the Prince was in a state of alarm as to the

intentions of France. Mendoza and Tassis had given him to understand

that a very good feeling prevailed between the court of Henry and of

Elizabeth, and that the French were likely to come to a pacification

among themselves. In this the Spanish envoys were hardly anticipating so

great an effect as we have seen that they had the right to do from their

own indefatigable exertions; for, thanks to their zeal, backed by the

moderate subsidies furnished by their master, the civil war in France

already seemed likely to be as enduring as that of the Netherlands. But

Parma--still quite in the dark as to French politics--was haunted by the

vision of seventy thousand foot and six thousand horses ready to be let

slip upon him at any, moment, out of a pacified and harmonious France;

while he had nothing but a few starving and crippled regiments to

withstand such an invasion. When all these events should have taken

place, and France, in alliance with England, should have formally

declared war against Spain, Alexander protested that he should have

learned nothing new.

The Prince was somewhat mistaken as to political affairs; but his doubts

concerning his neighbours, blended with the forlorn condition of himself

and army, about which there was no doubt at all, showed the exigencies of

his situation. In the midst of such embarrassments it is impossible not

to admire his heroism as a military chieftain, and his singular

adroitness as a diplomatist. He had painted for his sovereign a most

faithful and horrible portrait of the obedient Provinces. The soil was

untilled; the manufactories had all stopped; trade had ceased to exist.

It was a pity only to look upon the raggedness of his soldiers. No

language could describe the misery of the reconciled Provinces--Artois,

Hainault, Flanders. The condition of Bruges would melt the hardest

heart; other cities were no better; Antwerp was utterly ruined; its

inhabitants were all starving. The famine throughout the obedient

Netherlands was such as had not been known for a century. The whole

country had been picked bare by the troops, and the plough was not put

into the ground. Deputations were constantly with him from Bruges,

Dendermonde, Bois-le-Duc, Brussels, Antwerp, Nymegen, proving to him

by the most palpable evidence that the whole population of those cities

had almost literally nothing to eat. He had nothing, however, but

exhortations to patience to feed them withal. He was left without a

groat even to save his soldiers from starving, and he wildly and

bitterly, day after day, implored his sovereign for aid. These pictures

are not the sketches of a historian striving for effect, but literal

transcripts from the most secret revelations of the Prince himself to his

sovereign. On the other hand, although Leicester's complaints of the

destitution of the English troops in the republic were almost as bitter,

yet the condition of the United Provinces was comparatively healthy.

Trade, external and internal, was increasing daily. Distant commercial

and military expeditions were fitted out, manufactures were prosperous,

and the war of independence was gradually becoming--strange to say--a

source of prosperity to the new commonwealth.

Philip--being now less alarmed than his nephew concerning French affairs,

and not feeling so keenly the misery of the obedient Provinces, or the

wants of the Spanish army--sent to Alexander six hundred thousand ducats,

by way of Genoa. In the letter submitted by his secretary recording this

remittance, the King made, however, a characteristic marginal note:--

"See if it will not be as well to tell him something concerning the two

hundred thousand ducats to be deducted for Mucio, for fear of more

mischief, if the Prince should expect the whole six hundred thousand."

Accordingly Mucio got the two hundred thousand. One-third of the meagre

supply destined for the relief of the King's starving and valiant little

army in the Netherlands was cut off to go into the pockets of the

intriguing Duke of Guise. "We must keep the French," said Philip, "in a

state of confusion at home, and feed their civil war. We must not allow

them to come to a general peace, which would be destruction for the

Catholics. I know you will put a good face on the matter; and, after

all, 'tis in the interest of the Netherlands. Moreover, the money shall

be immediately refunded."

Alexander was more likely to make a wry face, notwithstanding his views

of the necessity of fomenting the rebellion against the House of Valois.

Certainly if a monarch intended to conquer such countries as France,

England, and Holland, without stirring from his easy chair in the

Escorial, it would have been at least as well--so Alexander thought--to

invest a little more capital in the speculation. No monarch ever dreamed

of arriving at universal empire with less personal fatigue or exposure,

or at a cheaper rate, than did Philip II. His only fatigue was at his

writing-table. But even here his merit was of a subordinate description.

He sat a great while at a time. He had a genius for sitting; but he now

wrote few letters himself. A dozen words or so, scrawled in

hieroglyphics at the top, bottom, or along the margin of the interminable

despatches of his secretaries, contained the suggestions, more or less

luminous, which arose in his mind concerning public affairs. But he held

firmly to his purpose: He had devoted his life to the extermination of

Protestantism, to the conquest of France and England, to the subjugation

of Holland. These were vast schemes. A King who should succeed in such

enterprises, by his personal courage and genius, at the head of his

armies, or by consummate diplomacy, or by a masterly system of finance-

husbanding and concentrating the resources of his almost boundless

realms--might be in truth commended for capacity. Hitherto however

Philip's triumph had seemed problematical; and perhaps something more

would be necessary than letters to Parma, and paltry remittances to

Mucio, notwithstanding Alexander's splendid but local victories in

Flanders.

Parma, although in reality almost at bay, concealed his despair, and

accomplished wonders in the field. The military events during the spring

and summer of 1586 will be sketched in a subsequent chapter. For the

present it is necessary to combine into a complete whole the subterranean

negotiations between Brussels and England.

Much to his surprise and gratification, Parma found that the peace-party

were not inclined to change their views in consequence of the triumphs of

Drake. He soon informed the King that--according to Champagny and

Bodman--the Lord Treasurer, the Comptroller, Lord Cobham, and Sir

Christopher Hatton, were more pacific than they had ever been. These

four were represented by Grafigni as secretly in league against Leicester

and Walsingham, and very anxious to bring about a reconciliation between

the crowns of England and Spain. The merchant-diplomatist, according to

his own statement, was expressly sent by Queen Elizabeth to the prince of

Parma, although without letter of credence or signed instructions, but

with the full knowledge and approbation of the four counsellors just

mentioned. He assured Alexander that the Queen and the majority of her

council felt a strong desire for peace, and had manifested much

repentance for what had been done. They had explained their proceedings

by the necessity of self-defence. They had avowed--in case they should

be made sure of peace--that they should, not with reluctance and against

their will, but, on the contrary, with the utmost alacrity and at once,

surrender to the King of Spain the territory which they possessed in the

Netherlands, and especially the fortified towns in Holland and Zeeland;

for the English object had never been conquest. Parma had also been

informed of the Queen's strong desire that he should be employed as

negotiator, on account of her great confidence in his sincerity. They

had expressed much satisfaction on hearing that he was about to send an

agent to England, and had protested themselves rejoiced at Drake's

triumphs, only because of their hope that a peace with Spain would thus

be rendered the easier of accomplishment. They were much afraid,

according to Grafigni, of Philip's power, and dreaded a Spanish invasion

of their country, in conjunction with the Pope. They were now extremely

anxious that Parma--as he himself informed the King--should send an agent

of good capacity, in great secrecy, to England.

The Comptroller had said that he had pledged himself to such a result,

and if it failed, that they would probably cut off his head. The four

counsellors were excessively solicitous for the negotiation, and each of

them was expecting to gain favour by advancing it to the best of his

ability.

Parma hinted at the possibility that all these professions were false,

and that the English were only intending to keep the King from the

contemplated invasion. At the same time he drew Philip's attention to

the fact that Burghley and his party had most evidently been doing

everything in their power to obstruct Leicester's progress in the

Netherlands and to keep back the reinforcements of troops and money which

he so much required.

No doubt these communications of Parma to the King were made upon the

faith of an agent not over-scrupulous, and of no elevated or recognised

rank in diplomacy. It must be borne in mind, however, that he had been

made use of by both parties; perhaps because it would be easy to throw

off, and discredit, him whenever such a step should be convenient; and

that, on the other hand, coming fresh from Burghley and the rest into the

presence of the keen-eyed Farnese, he would hardly invent for his

employer a budget of falsehoods. That man must have been a subtle

negotiator who could outwit such a statesman as Burghley--and the other

counsellors of Elizabeth, and a bold one who could dare to trifle on a

momentous occasion with Alexander of Parma.

Leicester thought Burghley very much his friend, and so thought Davison

and Heneage; and the Lord-Treasurer had, in truth, stood stoutly by the

Earl in the affair of the absolute governorship;--"a matter more severe

and cumbersome to him and others," said Burghley, "than any whatsoever

since he was a counsellor." But there is no doubt that these

negotiations were going forward all the spring and summer, that they were

most detrimental to Leicester's success, and that they were kept--so far

as it was possible--a profound secret from him, from Walsingham, and from

the States-General. Nothing was told them except what their own

astuteness had discovered beforehand; and the game of the counsellors--so

far as their attitude towards Leicester and Walsingham was concerned--

seems both disingenuous and impolitic.

Parma, it was to be feared, was more than a match for the English

governor-general in the field; and it was certainly hopeless for poor

old Comptroller Croft, even though backed by the sagacious Burghley, to

accomplish so great an amount of dissimulation in a year as the Spanish

cabinet, without effort, could compass in a week. Nor were they

attempting to do so. It is probable that England was acting towards

Philip in much better faith than he deserved, or than Parma believed;

but it is hardly to be wondered at that Leicester should think himself

injured by being kept perpetually in the dark.

Elizabeth was very impatient at not receiving direct letters from Parma,

and her anxiety on the subject explains much of her caprice during the

quarrel about the governor-generalahip. Many persons in the Netherlands

thought those violent scenes a farce, and a farce that had been arranged

with Leicester beforehand. In this they were mistaken; for an

examination of the secret correspondence of the period reveals the

motives--which to contemporaries were hidden--of many strange

transactions. The Queen was, no doubt, extremely anxious, and with

cause, at the tempest slowly gathering over her head; but the more the

dangers thickened, the more was her own official language to those in

high places befitting the sovereign of England.

She expressed her surprise to Farnese that he had not written to her on

the subject of the Grafigni and Bodman affair. The first, she said, was

justified in all which he had narrated, save in his assertion that she

had sent him. The other had not obtained audience, because he had not

come provided with any credentials, direct or indirect. Having now

understood from Andrea de Loo and the Seigneur de Champagny that Parma

had the power to conclude a peace, which he seemed very much to desire,

she observed that it was not necessary for him to be so chary in

explaining the basis of the proposed negotiations. It was better to

enter into a straightforward path, than by ambiguous words to spin out

to great length matters which princes should at once conclude.

"Do not suppose," said the Queen, "that I am seeking what belongs to

others. God forbid. I seek only that which is mine own. But be

sure that I will take good heed of the sword which threatens me with

destruction, nor think that I am so craven-spirited as to endure a

wrong, or to place myself at the mercy of my enemy. Every week I see

advertisements and letters from Spain that this year shall witness the

downfall of England; for the Spaniards--like the hunter who divided, with

great liberality, among his friends the body and limbs of the wolf,

before it had been killed--have partitioned this kingdom and that of

Ireland before the conquest has been effected. But my royal heart is no

whit appalled by such threats. I trust, with the help of the Divine

hand--which has thus far miraculously preserved me--to smite all these

braggart powers into the dust, and to preserve my honour, and the

kingdoms which He has given me for my heritage.

"Nevertheless, if you have authority to enter upon and to conclude this

negotiation, you will find my ears open to hear your propositions; and I

tell you further, if a peace is to be made, that I wish you to be the

mediator thereof. Such is the affection I bear you, notwithstanding that

some letters, written by your own hand, might easily have effaced such

sentiments from my mind."

Soon afterwards, Bodman was again despatched to England, Grafigni being

already there. He was provided with unsigned instructions, according to

which he was to say that the Prince, having heard of the Queen's good

intentions, had despatched him and Grafigni to her court. They were to

listen to any suggestions made by the Queen to her ministers; but they

were to do nothing but listen. If the counsellors should enter into

their grievances against his Majesty, and ask for explanations, the

agents were to say that they had no authority or instructions to speak

for so great and Christian a monarch. Thus they were to cut the thread

of any such discourse, or any other observations not to the purpose.

Silence, in short, was recommended, first and last, as the one great

business of their mission; and it was unlucky that men whose talent for

taciturnity was thus signally relied upon should be somewhat remarkable

for loquacity. Grafigni was also the bearer of a letter from Alexander

to the Queen--of which Bodman received a copy--but it was strictly

enjoined upon them to keep the letter, their instructions, and the

objects of their journey, a secret from all the world.

The letter of the Prince consisted mainly of complimentary flourishes.

He had heard, he said, all that Agostino Grafigni had communicated, and

he now begged her Majesty to let him understand the course which it was

proper to take; assuring her of his gratitude for her good opinion

touching his sincerity, and his desire to save the effusion of blood,

and so on; concluding of course with expressions of most profound

consideration and devotion.

Early in July Bodman arrived in London. He found Grafigni in very low

spirits. He had been with Lord Cobham, and was much disappointed with

his reception, for Cobham--angry that Grafigni had brought no commission

from the King--had refused to receive Parma's letter to the Queen, and

had expressed annoyance that Bodman should be employed on this mission,

having heard that lie was very ill-tempered and passionate. The same

evening, he had been sent for by Lord Burghley--who had accepted the

letter for her Majesty without saying a word--and on the following

morning, he had been taken to task, by several counsellors, on the ground

that the Prince, in that communication, had stated that the Queen had

expressed a desire for peace.

It has just been shown that there was no such intimation at all in the

letter; but as neither Grafigni nor Bodman had read the epistle itself,

but only the copy furnished them, they could merely say that such an

assertion; if made by the Prince, had been founded on no statement of

theirs. Bodman consoled his colleague, as well as he could, by

assurances that when the letter was fairly produced, their vindication

would be complete, and Grafigni, upon that point, was comforted. He was,

however, very doleful in general, and complained bitterly of Burghley and

the other English counsellors. He said that they had forced him, against

his will, to make this journey to Brussels, that they had offered him

presents, that they would leave him no rest in his own house, but had

made him neglect all his private business, and caused him a great loss of

time and money, in order that he might serve them. They had manifested

the strongest desire that Parma should open this communication, and had

led him to expect a very large recompense for his share in the

transaction. "And now," said Grafigni to his colleague, with great

bitterness, "I find no faith nor honour in them at all. They don't keep

their word, and every one of them is trying to slide out of the very

business, in which each was, but the other day, striving to outrival the

other, in order that it might be brought to a satisfactory conclusion."

After exploding in this way to Bodman, he went back to Cobham, and

protested, with angry vehemence, that Parma had never written such a word

to the Queen, and that so it would prove, if the letter were produced.

Next day, Bodman was sent for to Greenwich, where her Majesty was, as

usual, residing. A secret pavilion was indicated to him, where he was to

stay until sunset. When that time arrived, Lord Cobham's secretary came

with great mystery, and begged the emissary to follow him, but at a

considerable distance, towards the apartments of Lord Burghley in the

palace. Arriving there, they found the Lord Treasurer accompanied by

Cobham and Croft. Burghley instantly opened the interview by a defence

of the Queen's policy in sending troops to the Netherlands, and in

espousing their cause, and then the conversation proceeded to the

immediate matter in hand.

Bodman (after listening respectfully to the Lord-Treasurer's

observations).--"His Highness has, however, been extremely surprised that

my Lord Leicester should take an oath, as governor-general of the King's

Provinces. He is shocked likewise by the great demonstrations of

hostility on the part of her Majesty."

Burghley.--"The oath was indispensable. The Queen was obliged to

tolerate the step on account of the great urgency of the States to have a

head. But her Majesty has commanded us to meet you on this occasion, in

order to hear what you have to communicate on the part of the Prince of

Parma."

Bodman (after a profusion of complimentary phrases).--"I have no

commission to say anything. I am only instructed to listen to anything

that may be said to me, and that her Majesty may be pleased to command."

Burghley.--"'Tis very discreet to begin thus. But time is pressing, and

it is necessary to be brief. We beg you therefore to communicate,

without further preface, that which you have been charged to say."

Bodman.--"I can only repeat to your Lordship, that I have been charged to

say nothing."

After this Barmecide feast of diplomacy, to partake of which it seemed

hardly necessary that the guests should have previously attired

themselves in such garments of mystery, the parties separated for the

night.

In spite of their care, it would seem that the Argus-eyed Walsingham had

been able to see after sunset; for, the next evening--after Bodman had

been introduced with the same precautions to the same company, in the

same place--Burghley, before a word had been spoken, sent for Sir

Francis.

Bodman was profoundly astonished, for he had been expressly informed that

Walsingham was to know nothing of the transaction. The Secretary of

State could not so easily be outwitted, however, and he was soon seated

at the table, surveying the scene, with his grave melancholy eyes, which

had looked quite through the whole paltry intrigue.

Burghley.--"Her Majesty has commanded us to assemble together, in order

that, in my presence, it may be made clear that she did not commence this

negotiation. Let Grafigni be summoned."

Grafigni immediately made his appearance.

Burghley.--"You will please to explain how you came to enter into this

business."

Grafigni.--"The first time I went to the States, it was on my private

affairs; I had no order from any one to treat with the Prince of Parma.

His Highness, having accidentally heard, however, that I resided in

England, expressed a wish to see me. I had an interview with the Prince.

I told him, out of my own head, that the Queen had a strong inclination

to hear propositions of peace, and that--as some of her counsellors were

of the same opinion--I believed that if his Highness should send a

negotiator, some good would be effected. The Prince replied that he felt

by no means sure of such a result; but that, if I should come back from

England, sent by the Queen or her council, he would then despatch a

person with a commission to treat of peace. This statement, together

with other matters that had passed between us, was afterwards drawn up in

writing by command of his Highness."

Burghley.--"Who bade you say, after your second return to Brussels, that

you came on the part of the Queen? For you well know that her Majesty

did not send you."

Grafigni.--"I never said so. I stated that my Lord Cobham had set down

in writing what I was to say to the Prince of Parma. It will never

appear that I represented the Queen as desiring peace. I said that her

Majesty would lend her ears to peace. Bodman knows this too; and he has

a copy of the letter of his Highness."

History of the United Netherlands from the Death of William the Silent to the Twelve Year's Truce, 1586c · 第 5 / 10 题