1560-1561
The results achieved in so short a time after Elizabeth’s accession
were due in a large measure to the moderation and prudence of Cecil’s
methods. The changes which had been made attacked many interests, and
ran counter to many prejudices; and the policy of Elizabeth in retaining
most of her sister’s Councillors had surrounded her with men who still
clung to the old faith and the traditions of the past. From the first
the Spanish and French Ambassadors had begun to bribe the Councillors,
and had respectively formed their parties amongst those who immediately
surrounded the Queen. Elizabeth herself was fickle and unstable, yet
obstinate in the opinion of the moment. Her vanity often led her into
false and dangerous positions, and already scandal was busy with her
doings. She was easily swayed by the opinions of others, yet fiercely
resented any attempt at dictation. Her feelings, moreover, towards the
French were by no means so antagonistic as those of Cecil, and the cost
of the war in Scotland had caused her great annoyance. It will be seen,
therefore, that the task of her principal minister in carrying out with
safety a consistent national policy was an extremely difficult one. More
than once during the Scotch war the French-Guisan party in Elizabeth’s
court had, to Cecil’s dismay, nearly persuaded the Queen to suspend
hostilities, whilst Philip’s paid agents in her Council were for ever
whispering distrust of Cecil and his religious reforms. Whilst the
Howards, Arundel, Paget, Mason, and the rest of the Philipians—as the
puritan Lord John Grey called them—were denouncing the minister for his
Protestant measures, the hot zealots who had hurried back from Germany
and Switzerland, dreaming of the violent establishment of an Anglican
Church on the Genevan pattern, were discontented at the slowness and
tentative character of the religious reforms adopted; and Cecil’s own
friends, like the Earl of Bedford, the Duchess of Suffolk, and the Lord
Admiral Clinton, were often impatient at his moderation. To this must
be added the unprincipled influence of Dudley, who was ready to swear
allegiance to any cause, to serve his purpose of dominating the Queen, a
purpose which was naturally opposed by Cecil as being dangerous to the
national welfare. It will thus be seen that the patient, strong minister
was surrounded by difficulties on every side; and but for the fact that
none of his rivals were comparable with him in ability and energy, Cecil
must have shared the usual fate of ministers, and have fallen before the
attacks of his enemies.
He returned from Scotland at the end of July, after an absence
of sixty-three days[128] and from a letter of the Lord Treasurer
(Winchester) to him soon afterwards (24th August 1560), it is evident
that his detractors had been at work in his absence.[129] The old Marquis
loved to stand well with all men, but his tendencies we know now to have
been “Philipian,” and he wrote to the Secretary: “In the meantime all
good Councillors shall have labor and dolor without reward; wherein your
part is most of all mens; for your charge and paynes be farre above all
oder mens, and your thanks and rewards least and worst considered, and
specially for that you spend wholly of yourself, without your ordinary
fee, land, patent, gift, or ony thing, which must nedes discomfort you.
And yett when your counsell is most for her Majesties honour and profitt,
the same hath got hinderance by her weke creditt of you, and by back
councells; and so long as that matter shall continue it must needs be
dangerous service and unthankful.”
Less than three weeks after this letter was written, the Bishop of Aquila
went to Greenwich about the Austrian match, which still dragged on, when,
to his surprise, the Queen told him flatly she had altered her mind,
and would not marry at all. The Bishop then sought out Cecil, who, he
knew, was now in semi-disgrace, owing to the efforts of Dudley in his
absence. The Secretary was not in the habit of wearing his heart upon his
sleeve, and if he did so on this occasion to Philip’s minister, it may be
concluded that it was from motives of policy, which are not very far to
seek. “After exacting many pledges of strict secrecy, he said that the
Queen was conducting herself in such a way that he thought of retiring.
He said it was a bad sailor who did not enter port if he could when he
saw a storm coming on, and he clearly foresaw the ruin of the realm
through Robert’s intimacy with the Queen, who surrendered all affairs to
him and meant to marry him. He said he did not know how the country put
up with it, and he should ask leave to go home, though he thought they
would cast him into the Tower first. He ended by begging me in God’s
name to point out to the Queen the effect of her misconduct, and persuade
her not to abandon business entirely, but to look to her realm; and then
he repeated to me twice over that Lord Robert would be better in Paradise
than here.”[130] After this Cecil told the Ambassador that Dudley “was
thinking of killing his wife,” which on the following day the Queen
partly confirmed by mentioning to the Bishop that she was “dead or nearly
so.” The Bishop’s comment upon this is, that “Cecil’s disgrace must have
great effect, as he has many companions in discontent, especially the
Duke of Norfolk.… Their quarrels cannot injure public business, as nobody
worse than Cecil can be at the head of affairs, but the outcome of it all
might be the imprisonment of the Queen, and the proclamation of the Earl
of Huntingdon[131] as King. He is a great heretic, and the French forces
might be used for him. Cecil says he is the real heir of England, and all
the heretics want him. I do not like Cecil’s great friendship with the
Bishop of Valence.”
Shortly after this was written, the tragic fate of Amy Robsart was
announced. For months past there had been rumours of the intention of
Dudley to have his wife killed, in order that he might marry the Queen,
and as the date of Cecil’s conversation with the Bishop is not quite
certain, it is possible that he may have spoken with the knowledge that
she was already dead. In any case, however, it is certain that, at this
time, Cecil feared that the Queen’s passion for Dudley would bring about
the downfall of the edifice he had so laboriously built, and he sought if
possible to lay the foundation for his future action. The friendship with
the Guisan Bishop, Monluc, was clearly a feint, as was also the idea that
the French would help Huntingdon to the detriment of their own Queen Mary
Stuart, but it would serve to arouse the jealousy of the Spaniards, and
would incline them to Cecil’s side to prevent it. Dudley had in Cecil’s
absence gained most of the advanced Protestant party to his side by his
open championship of their ideas, and the Secretary, finding himself
distrusted by his friends, was obliged to endeavour to discredit Dudley,
to gain the sympathy of the Spanish Bishop, and, through him, of the
“Philipians,” who were already opposed to Dudley as an upstart and a
friend of France. Regarded in this light, Cecil’s unwonted frankness to
the Spanish Ambassador is intelligible enough. If things went well with
the Queen, the “Philipians” could keep him in office, and if disaster
befell her, he dissociated himself from her before the catastrophe, and
made common cause with the party which in such case would certainly be
uppermost.
The danger, however, soon blew over, for Amy Robsart’s death caused so
much scandal as to cover Dudley with obloquy, and render him powerless
for a time, during which Cecil regained his influence. How completely
he did so is seen in Dudley’s enigmatical letter to him at the time
when he was first feeling the effect of the odium of his wife’s death.
The real meaning of the letter is not intelligible. Dudley had retired
from court, probably to Wanstead, and had been visited by Cecil, who was
having close inquiry made into the death of Lady Robert. He appears to
have made some friendly promise to Dudley, who is effusively grateful.
“The great frendshipp you have shewyd towards me I shall not forgett. I
pray you lett me hear from you what you think best for me to doe; if you
doubt, I pray you ask the question (of the Queen?), for the sooner you
can advyse me the more I shall thank you. I am sorry so sodden a chaunce
shuld brede me so great a change, for methinks I am here all this while
as it were in a dream.”[132] Dudley’s retirement and pretended disgrace,
to save appearances, did not last long; and when he came back to court he
found Cecil in full favour again.[133] Whilst Lord Robert was away Cecil
had extracted a positive assurance from the Queen direct, that she would
not marry Dudley. Cecil had thereupon made another attempt to revive
the Archduke’s negotiation,[134] and at the same time had sounded the
Spanish Ambassador about marrying Catharine Grey to a nominee of Philip;
this being a prudent attempt to obtain a second connecting link with
Spain, now that the negotiations with the Archduke had been worn nearly
threadbare.
But the Spanish-Austrian family were not responsive. They had been fooled
more than once, and were determined that Elizabeth should not lead them
into a position compromising to their dignity; but it was necessary for
those who had the welfare of England at heart to take some steps which
should render Dudley’s hopes unrealisable. The Protestant party in the
Council, with Cecil’s acquiescence, again brought up the proposal of
the new King of Sweden, Eric XIV. He was an eager suitor, and had been
trying to gain a hearing at intervals since before Mary’s death; and in
answer to private messages from England, intimated his intention of
coming himself to win his bride. The Protestants were overjoyed; for
this would have been an ideal solution for them, especially now that the
situation had been unexpectedly changed by the death of the young King
of France, Mary Stuart’s husband (5th December 1560). This event, which
took away much of the Guises’ power, and weakened Mary’s connection with
France, now governed by her mother-in-law, Catharine de Medici, who hated
her, banished in a large measure Philip’s dread of her accession to the
English throne; and the Catholics in England thought they saw daylight
ahead, if the Queen died childless.
It was natural, therefore, that the Protestants should make a counter
move, and actively revive the idea of the Swedish match. It was equally
to be expected that when Dudley thus found himself without any party at
all but his personal friends, he should seek support in a fresh quarter.
He was without shame, scruple, or conscience. He had betrayed, or was
ready to betray, every person or cause that trusted him; his sole object
was to force or cajole the Queen into marrying him, and he grasped at any
aid towards it. In January 1561 his brother-in-law, Sir Henry Sidney,
a Catholic, and a friend of Spain, came to the Bishop of Aquila, and
assured him that Dudley was innocent of his wife’s death, though public
opinion was universally against him. Sidney then went on to say that, as
Elizabeth’s desire to marry Dudley was evident, it was surprising that
the Spanish party had not helped him in his object, and thus gained his
gratitude, in return for which “he would hereafter serve and obey your
Majesty like one of your own vassals.” The Bishop was not eager, for
he had been tricked before when the Sidneys were the intermediaries;
but when Sidney promised that if Dudley were aided to marry the Queen,
he would restore the Catholic religion in England, the Churchman
listened. He could be no party, of course, he said, to a bargain about
religion; but if Dudley really wished to repent in this way, he should be
delighted. The Queen acquiesced in the intrigue, and eagerly listened to
the Spaniard’s advocacy of Dudley’s suit, though doubtless she did not
know that her English suitor had promised, in the event of his marriage,
to hand over the whole government to the King of Spain, and fully restore
the Catholic faith.[135]
As some earnest of the Queen’s and Dudley’s chastened hearts, the Bishop
had urged that English plenipotentiaries should be sent to the Council
of Trent, and the English bishops released who were imprisoned for
refusing the oath of supremacy. Dudley was willing to promise that or
anything else; but in so important a matter of State as the recognition
of the Pope’s Council, the co-operation of Cecil was needed. He was, of
course, opposed to Dudley’s suit, but had not interfered openly to stop
these negotiations, the Bishop says, in consequence of his having been
bribed by the grant of some emoluments enjoyed by Parry, who had recently
died, but more probably because he may really have been at the bottom
of these negotiations, and he knew that he could checkmate Dudley more
effectually, if necessary, at a later stage.[136] As we have seen, his
opposition to strong forces was rarely direct. He knew in this case that
the Queen would resent open thwarting from him; and that it would also
have the effect of offending the Catholics, and renewing the quarrel with
Dudley and his friends. So when he was consulted, he feigned to welcome
the project of sending English representatives to the Council of Trent,
and at once proceeded to kill it with kindness.
The situation in England was an extremely critical one. Much public
dissatisfaction existed at the Queen’s questionable behaviour, and the
Catholics, especially, were greatly disturbed in consequence of the
attitude of Mary Stuart. The treaty of Edinburgh, the result of so much
thought and labour, had not been ratified by Mary and her husband when
the latter died; and in answer to requests on the part of the English
Government, through Throgmorton and Sir Peter Mewtys, that she would
ratify it, Mary declined until she had by her side some of her Scottish
Councillors. The Scottish Parliament had been summoned in accordance
with the treaty, before the latter had been accepted by the sovereign,
and consequently her refusal to ratify the treaty raised a host of
difficulties on all sides. It was felt universally that Mary might well
expect now the countenance of Philip in her pretensions to the English
crown, whilst all that was Catholic in France looked to her uncles,
the Guises, as leaders. The combination was too strong for Cecil to
face directly, in addition to the Queen’s caprice and the factions
of the English court, and his method of dealing with the matter was
characteristically prudent. During the progress of Dudley’s negotiations
with the Spaniard to bring back England to Catholicism, the puritan Earl
of Bedford was sent to France, ostensibly to ask Mary again to ratify the
treaty of Edinburgh, and to condole with her for the loss of her husband;
but his real object was to bring about an understanding with the Duke
of Vendôme,[137] Coligny, and the French Protestants. At the same time
Randolph was entrusted with an important message to the Protestant nobles
of Scotland. He was to tell them that the Protestant princes of Germany
were firmly united; that the French reformers were now the stronger
party; that the Queen of England would stand by the Scots; and to exhort
them to be true to the Protestant faith, no matter what efforts might be
made to move them. Randolph was also to approach even Scottish Catholics,
and point out what a favourable opportunity now occurred, the Queen of
Scots being free of her French connection, to form a close union between
England and Scotland.[138]
But whilst this seed was germinating it was necessary for Cecil to dally
with the Catholics and “Philipians” in England. He accordingly went
(March 1561) to the Spanish Ambassador with a message—secretly purporting
to come from the Queen, but ostensibly from himself—to the effect that
it would be a great favour to the Queen “and a help to this business” if
Philip would write her a letter as soon as possible, “urging her, in the
interests of her country, to marry at once; and, as she is disinclined
to marry a foreigner, he advises her to choose one of her own subjects,
who, in such case, would receive Philip’s friendship and support.” Cecil
affected to urge this course very warmly upon the Bishop, who, however,
was wary, and insisted upon knowing definitely whether the Queen herself
had sent the message. The only answer that Cecil would give was that it
was not fair to drive a modest maiden like the Queen up in a corner, and
make her personally responsible for steps leading to her own marriage.
But he told the Bishop that the reason Philip’s letter was necessary, was
that the Queen should submit it to a packed deputation of both Houses of
Parliament, so that her marriage with Dudley might, in appearance, have
the sanction of her people. No course so likely as this to frustrate the
match could have been devised, as Dudley himself saw, for he fell ill
of vexation; but, as the Bishop says, he was faint-hearted, and lacked
ability and courage to break through the snares that Cecil had spread
for him. The Bishop divined the plan very soon. “The deputation is being
arranged,” he says, “to suit him and the heretics, who have entire
control of the Queen.… She dares not go against Cecil’s advice, because
she thinks that both sides would then rise up against her.”
Cecil, “who,” he says, “is entirely pledged to these unhappy heresies,
and is the leader of the business,” tried on more than one occasion to
draw the Spanish Bishop into religious controversy—the Bishop thought,
with the object of discovering whether Dudley or the Queen had gone
further in their pledges than he had been told. He suggested that the
Pope should send theologians to England to discuss religion with English
divines, but the Bishop would not hear of it. Then he proposed that the
Bishop himself should secretly meet the Archbishop of Canterbury (Parker)
and endeavour to bring about a religious _modus vivendi_; to which the
Spaniard replied, that if they were sincere in their desire to agree,
they had better begin with the main points of difference, instead of
discussing secondary points of dogma.[139]
Cecil assured him that the Queen would send representatives to the
Pope’s Council, on condition that it was held in a place satisfactory
to other princes; that the Pope or his legate should preside over the
Council, not so as to infer that he was the ruler of it, but only the
president of its deliberations; that questions of faith might be decided
by Holy Scripture, the consensus of divines, and the decisions of
early councils; that the English bishops should be recognised as equals
of the rest; and other conditions of the same sort, which obviously
frustrated—as they were meant to do—all hope of the religious compact,
upon which Dudley’s hopes were ostensibly built. In the court, we are
told, Cecil went about saying that the Queen wished to send her envoys
to the Council, but that a Council could not judge questions of faith,
nor could the Pope, as of right, claim to preside.[140] On the one hand,
he reprehended the Bishop of Winchester (Horn) for preaching against
the authority of the Councils, and caused a meeting of bishops to be
called at Lambeth, to settle a profession of faith to be sent to the
Council; whilst, on the other, he told the Spaniard that if when the
Pope wrote to the Queen he did not give her her full titles of Queen of
England and Defender of the Faith, she would not receive his letters.
Well might Quadra say: “I do not know what to think of it all: these
people are in such a confusion that they confound me as well. Cecil
is a very great heretic, but he is neither foolish nor false, and he
professes to treat me very frankly. He has conceded to me these three
points, which I consider of the utmost importance, however much he may
twist them to the other side.” Whoever else may have been confused, we
may be certain that Cecil knew what he was about, for he completely
hoodwinked and conciliated the Spanish Bishop and the Catholics until his
new combination was consolidated.[141] The English Catholics were more
leniently treated; and the Queen and court were almost inconveniently
friendly with Quadra, who was obliged to whisper to his friends that it
was all make-believe. He said more truly than he thought at the time. At
the end of April, Cecil’s arrangements were complete, and the mask could
be dropped safely.
At the instance of Randolph the Scottish Lords of the Congregation had
commissioned James Stuart, Mary’s natural brother, afterwards Earl of
Murray, who was already in English pay, to visit his sister in France,
and influence her to return to Scotland pledged to the treaty of
Edinburgh, and to place herself in the hands of the Protestant party.
For the moment the Guises in France were in disgrace, and plotting for
their own advancement, so that it suited them to appear to acquiesce in
an arrangement which promised that their niece should take possession
of her kingdom without disturbance. James Stuart, carefully coached
by Throgmorton, went back to London with the assurance that all was
well.[142] Mundt, in Germany, had drawn the league closer between England
and the Princes; Bedford in France had completed a cordial arrangement
with Vendôme, Coligny, and the Protestants; Philip’s Netherlands were
in seething discontent, his coffers were empty and he was in a death
grapple with the Turk for the mastery of the Mediterranean. There was
nothing for England to fear, therefore. Circumstances and Cecil’s
diplomacy had placed once more all the cards into his hands, and again he
could go forward on a straight course.
The pretext for a change was given by the secret presence of a papal
nuncio in Ireland. English Catholics were suddenly proceeded against all
over the country for attending mass. Sir Edward Waldegrave and other
ex-members of Mary’s Council were thrown into the Tower; the Pope’s
legate, who was hurrying with all sorts of concessions, and an invitation
to Elizabeth to send envoys to the Council of Trent, was refused
admittance into England; and the old Bishop of Aquila found once more
that Cecil had outwitted him. There were no more conciliatory religious
discussions or amiable attentions; on the contrary, the Ambassador, to
his intense indignation, was accused of taking part in plots against
the Queen, and found himself slighted on all sides. A great outcry took
place that a conspiracy of Catholics had been discovered to poison the
Queen, the rumour in all probability being part of the general plan to
weaken and discredit the Catholic party; and Cecil himself drew up a
paper, still extant,[143] urging her Majesty not to place any apparel
next her skin until it had been carefully examined, that no perfume
should be inhaled by her which came from a stranger, that no food should
be consumed by her unless it was dressed by her own cooks, that twice a
week she should take some _contra pestum_, that the back doors of her
apartments should be strictly guarded, and so forth. Whether Cecil was
really apprehensive of danger to the Queen at the time is uncertain;
but this general change of attitude towards the Catholics in less than
four months suspiciously coincided with the successful consolidation of
the Protestants throughout Europe, and the paralysation for harm both of
Spain and France in the matter of Mary Stuart.
How far Dudley was sincere in his approaches to the Catholics on this
occasion may be doubted. He would have been willing, of course, to
have paid any price—or rather have made his country pay any price—for
his marriage with the Queen; but there are circumstances which tend to
the belief that he and Cecil, for once, had joined their forces, Cecil
probably promising his support to Dudley’s suit in exchange for this
clever “entertaining” of Spain and the Catholics until the Protestant
coalition was formed. In any case, Dudley was in nowise cast down at the
rupture of the negotiations, but remained on excellent terms with Cecil,
and flirted with the Queen more furiously than ever. In the meanwhile
the King of Sweden had made all preparations for visiting England. The
extreme Protestant party had continued to encourage him during the
time that the Queen, Cecil, and Dudley were lulling the Catholics; but
now that the Catholic mask had been dropped, Eric’s visit was very
inconvenient to the Queen. Mary Stuart was a widow, and every court in
Europe was intriguing for her marriage.[144] Elizabeth knew that if
she was forced into a marriage with the King of Sweden, Mary would
immediately be wedded to a nominee of Philip, for which object Cardinal
Lorraine was already planning. Eric was therefore refused a passport into
England;[145] the Lord Mayor was ordered to suppress the prints which had
been scattered by the Protestants, representing Elizabeth and Eric XIV.
together (July 1561),[146] and the embarrassment of the Swede’s advances
was postponed until a more convenient season.
The English Catholics were naturally losing heart. They had looked in
vain for help from Philip ever since the Queen’s accession. The war party
in the Spanish King’s councils had ceaselessly urged him to overturn
Elizabeth and the “heretics” before their power was consolidated.
Feria and his successor the Bishop had done their best to keep alive
the hopes of Elizabeth’s enemies in England; but as year followed year
and leaden-footed Philip moved not the English Catholics began to cast
their eyes elsewhere. Mary Stuart arrived in Scotland (19th August
1561) surrounded by her Lorraine kinsmen. Elizabeth now thoroughly
distrusted her, for she saw that she was her match in dissimulation, at
all events, and made some show of intercepting her on the voyage;[147]
but her Scottish subjects of all faiths were ready to welcome the
young half-foreign Queen from whom they hoped so much. The country was
practically in a condition of anarchy; but the administration, such as
it was, was in the hands of the reform party under Maitland and James
Stuart. Although herself devoutly following the Catholic faith—to the
disgust of the predominant party—the Queen soon after her arrival
confirmed the free exercise of the Protestant worship, and for a time
both she and her ministers were popular. To the north, therefore, the
English Catholic party now cast their eyes. Catharine Grey had recently
contracted a doubtful marriage with the eldest son (Hertford) of the
Protector Somerset, and was out of the question as a Catholic candidate;
but Mary Stuart’s claim to the English throne was in many respects better
than that of Elizabeth herself. Lady Margaret Lennox, too, was busy in
the north of England, where the population was mainly Catholic, plotting
for the marriage of her son and the subsequent raising of the country in
the interests of Mary and a Catholic England.
In the meanwhile Elizabeth was somewhat roughly demanding to know why
Mary delayed the ratification of the treaty of Edinburgh, and jealously
watching for any signs of matrimonial negotiations to her detriment.
The Earl of Arran, Elizabeth’s candidate for Mary Stuart’s hand, was
extremely unpopular with the Scottish people, and soon became impossible
as a consort for the Queen; and the carefully laid plans of Elizabeth and
Cecil in Scotland were seen to be at the mercy of a secret matrimonial
intrigue, which might be sprung upon them at any moment. Maitland of
Lethington, Mary’s Secretary of State, ostensibly a Protestant, went
to London[148] and saw Cecil in September, in the hope of arranging
matters. He professed to be sanguine about the Arran marriage; but
though bound to the English interest, he protested more than once on his
return, in letters to Cecil, upon the pressure exerted upon his mistress
to renounce her English birthright, and even begged the Secretary to
furnish him with a draft of a reply for Mary to send which he thought
might satisfy Elizabeth. Whilst Lord James, Maitland, and Cecil were
trying to conciliate and calm matters, the zealot Knox and his like
were clamouring for extreme measures and embittering spirits on both
sides. Cecil in vain counselled Knox to be moderate; the reply reproaches
him for “swimming betwixt two waters,” and throws all the blame for
the troubles on moderate statesmen like Lord James and Lethington,
“whose mistaken forbearance and gentleness” he denounces. The young
Queen, he says, will never be of “our opinion, and in very deed her
whole proceedings do declare that the Cardinal’s lessons are so deeply
imprinted on her heart, that they … are like to perish together.… In
communication with her I espied such craft as I have not found in such
age.”
This opinion must only be accepted as that of a bitterly severe man on
one whose position was as difficult as can well be conceived. English
Catholics, Mary knew, now looked to her as their only hope. She was a
daughter of kings, brought up in a deep school of statecraft, and was
determined to resist the demanded renunciation of her birthright in
England at the bidding of a rival. Her letter to Elizabeth (5th January
1562)[149] explains why she declined to ratify the treaty of Edinburgh,
pathetically pleads that the clause in the treaty renouncing her rights
to the English succession was agreed to without her authority, and she
appeals to the generosity of so near a cousin not to make her a stranger
to her own blood. She will, she says, make a new treaty on Elizabeth’s
own terms, if her rights to succeed, failing Elizabeth’s issue, are not
prejudiced. But on this point Elizabeth would never give way. As we have
seen, it was the keynote of Cecil’s policy all his life to secure England
from the presence of a probable enemy on the Scottish border, and this
question of Mary’s claim to the English succession, especially with her
marriage still undecided, touched the heart of the whole matter. It
was evident, moreover, that at this juncture the great trial of arms
between the Catholics and Protestants throughout Europe was at hand.
The war of religion was already looming near in France and Flanders,
papal emissaries had incited armed revolt in Ireland against the Queen’s
Protestant measures, and English Catholics were in a dangerous state of
ferment.[150] It was therefore of the most vital interest, not only to
England and Elizabeth, but to the reform party throughout Europe, that no
advantage should be given in Scotland to vigilant enemies, who, by the
control of that country, would have been enabled to ruin the acknowledged
head of the Protestant confederacy. It is the fashion to accuse Elizabeth
and Cecil of unprincipled rancour against Mary Stuart. Generosity and
magnanimity, it may be conceded, were not conspicuous characteristics of
either of them. But before judging too harshly, it should be considered
that their lives, the freedom and independence of England, and the fate
of the reformed religion depended almost inevitably upon the course of
events in Scotland, and both Elizabeth and her minister would have been
false to their trust if they had not availed themselves of all the means
which circumstances and the feeling of the times placed in their hands to
prevent Mary Stuart and her country from precipitating their downfall.
Cecil’s position in London also was surrounded with difficulties. The
Catholics, even those about the Queen, were busy, and reports of plans
for poisoning Elizabeth continued without cessation. Everything, great
and small, had to be done by Cecil. “He has,” writes the Bishop of
Aquila, “absolutely taken possession of the Queen and Council, but he
is so perplexed and unpopular that I do not know how he will be able
to stand if there are any disturbances.”[151] The Queen, moreover,
fell ill: “she is falling away and is extremely thin, and the colour
of a corpse.” The sorely tried Secretary, bearing upon his shoulders
everybody’s burden, frequently sick himself,[152] but working early
and late, endeavouring to keep a middle course whilst holding to his
policy, naturally aroused no enthusiasm. Extreme men of all parties
cavilled at his methods; only the Queen grew in her trust of him, for
she at least understood, as perhaps no other person did, that he was
almost the only person near her who was not bribed. The city and the
trading classes, however, by this time had seen the good results of his
commercial and fiscal policy. From the first days of the reign he had
set about reforming the currency, and he enters in his diary for 29th
May of this year (1561) a statement which shows that his labours at last
bore fruit. “Base monies decried and fine silver coined,” he writes;
and in November a proclamation was issued that Spanish gold and silver
money, which during the debasement of English coin had been a favourite
form of currency, should no longer be allowed, but should be taken to
the Queen’s mint for exchange into English coin. “The Queen,” grumbles
the Spanish Ambassador, “makes a profit on it, as she did with the other
money she called in.” No doubt she did, but the new pure coinage placed
English merchants at an immense advantage in trading abroad, and they
thanked Cecil for it.[153] “There hath,” says Camden, “been better and
purer money in England than was seen in two hundred years before, or hath
been elsewhere in use throughout Europe.” Nor was this all. Shipbuilding
under subsidy had progressed very rapidly, and English commerce was
penetrating into regions hitherto unapproached.[154] The Hawkinses had
already shown the way to the West Coast of Africa, but the Portuguese
had so far successfully resisted the establishment of a regular trade.
English ships, however, now found their way down to Elmina, on the Gold
Coast, with frequency distressing to the Portuguese; whilst English and
Scotch privateers, and pirates who called themselves such, preyed almost
unchecked upon Spanish and Flemish small craft about the Channel. Against
both of these grievances the Spanish and Portuguese ministers complained
often and bitterly. Throughout his life Cecil set his face against piracy
in all its forms, as being inimical to legitimate trade, and at his
instance five of the Queen’s ships were fitted out (1561) for the purpose
of suppressing the corsairs; but to the other complaint he turned a very
different face.
A syndicate had been formed, in which Dudley, Wynter (Master of the
Ordnance), Gonson (Controller of the Navy), Sir William Garrard, and
probably the Queen herself, had shares, to send out a strong expedition
to establish a permanent trading-station on the Gold Coast.[155] There
were to be at least four ships, one of which, the _Mignon_, belonged to
the Queen. Protests and remonstrances from Portuguese and Spaniards were
freely made to Cecil, who replied they could not prevent merchants from
going to trade where they thought fit. When the Bishop of Aquila pressed
him further, he answered, “that the Pope had no right to partition the
world and to give and take kingdoms.… This idea is the real reason
which moved them to oppose the legality of our denunciation of these
expeditions much more than any profit they expect to get.… They think
this navigation business will be a good pretext for breaking the peace,
as your Majesty must needs uphold the Pope’s authority, against which,
both here and in Germany, all will join. I feigned not to understand
Cecil’s meaning, and treated the matter as concerning the King of
Portugal only” (27th November 1561).[156] A draft reply in Cecil’s hand
to similar remonstrances from the Portuguese Ambassador in April of the
same year, is still more dignified: “The Queen does not acknowledge the
right of the King of Portugal to forbid the subjects of another prince
from trading where they like, and she will take care that her subjects
are not worse treated in the King of Portugal’s dominions than his are in
hers.”[157]
Amidst his manifold public anxieties Cecil had to bear his share of
private trouble. His notes in the Perpetual Calendar at Hatfield record
the successive births and deaths of two infant William Cecils, one at
Cannon Row in 1559, and the other at Wimbledon in 1561; but at this
period he had a daughter and a son living, by his second wife. Thomas,
his only son by his first marriage with Mary Cheke, was now a young man
of twenty, and in order that he might receive the polish fitting to the
heir of a great personage, his father consulted Sir Nicholas Throgmorton,
the Ambassador in Paris, in the spring of 1561, with regard to sending
him thither. Cecil’s own idea was to place him in the household of
Coligny, the Admiral of France, now one of the acknowledged leaders
of the Protestant party; but Throgmorton, who foresaw, doubtless, the
rapidly approaching civil war, dissuaded him from this. “Though you
have made the best choice of any man in France, yet for some respects
I think the matter should be deferred.” His advice was that lodgings
should be taken for young Cecil near the embassy, where he might share
the Ambassador’s table. The youth, he thought, should be “taught to ride,
play the lute, dance, play tennis, and use such exercises as are noted
ornaments of courtiers.”[158] A subsequent recommendation of Thomas
Windebank, the young man’s governor, to the effect that it would be well
to accept Throgmorton’s offer, although Sir William Cecil was loth to
trespass on his friend’s hospitality, in order that the youth “might
learn to behave himself, not only at table, but otherwise, according
to his estate,”[159] leads us to the conclusion that Thomas Cecil had
thitherto not been an apt scholar. Some of the details of Thomas’s
journey are curious. In addition to Windebank he was accompanied by two
servants, and three geldings, which, Throgmorton thought, might as well
be sold, as he could obtain others in Paris. The lodgings in Paris for
the party and horses would cost about ten sun-crowns a month, and in
addition to the money they brought they should have a letter of credit
for three hundred crowns. Young Thomas had been to France before by way
of Calais,[160] and on this occasion, that he might see fresh country, he
went by Rye, Dieppe, and Rouen; and the intention was that he should stay
in or near Paris for a year, and then proceed to Italy. Windebank appears
to have been unequal to his task, and to have had no control over Thomas.
In vain Sir William pressed both his son and Windebank to send him an
account of their expenses, and from the first it is seen that the father
was misgiving and anxious. Cecil was a reserved man, full of public
affairs; but this correspondence[161] proves that he was also a man of
deep family affection, and, above all, that he regarded with horror the
idea that any scandal should attach to his honoured name. In his first
letter to his son, 14th July 1561, after the arrival of the latter in
Paris, he strikes the note of distrust. “He wishes him God’s blessing,
but how he inclines himself to deserve it he knows not.” None of his
son’s three letters, he complains, makes any mention of the expense he
is incurring. He urges him at once to begin to translate French; and
then says, “Fare ye well. Write every time somewhat to my wife.” To
Windebank the anxious father is more outspoken. How are they spending
their time, he asks, and heartily prays that Thomas may serve God with
fear and reverence. But Thomas seems to have done nothing of the sort;
for, in nearly every letter, Windebank urges Sir William to repeat his
injunctions about prayer to his son. But the scapegrace paid little heed.
As soon as they arrived in Paris, Thomas sold his horse for forty crowns,
and kept the money for his own spending. Throgmorton was soon tired of
him, and advised that he should be sent to Orleans or elsewhere, away
from the heat and distractions of Paris; but Thomas was well satisfied
where he was. “Of study there is little or nothing yet,” he coolly writes
to his father, after he had been in Paris for a month. They were still
sight-seeing, and he grows almost eloquent in his description of a fight
he had seen at court between a lion and three dogs, in which the latter
were victorious. They lodged in the house of a gentleman, “a courtier
and learned, but of indifferent good religion,” to whom they paid three
hundred crowns a month for board and lodging; but this was not by any
means all the expense. The heir spent £20 for his winter clothes; he must
have a fashionable footcloth for his riding nag. The horses, too, were
expensive, and Sir William complained. All gentlemen of estimation here
ride, writes Windebank, and if he follow not the manner of the country,
he will be less considered: “if all gentlemen ride, it is not meet for
Mr. Thomas to go afoot.”
The father was accompanying the Queen during the autumn on her progress
through Essex, and writes from various country-houses to his son and
Windebank, begging the former to study, to pray, to avoid ill company,
to take heed of surfeits, late suppers, prodigality, and the like; but
apparently to no effect. Thomas wrote rarely and badly, his French did
not improve, and he still failed to write to his learned step-mother,
greatly to his father’s anger. At length he fell seriously ill, and
promised amendment, which for a time seemed hopeful.
Through all the father’s anxiety his master passions for books,
heraldry, and gardening are discernible, as well as his pride of race.
He constantly orders Windebank to send him stated books, and to keep
on the look-out for new plants, or good gardeners, that may be sent to
England. In September he requests that some booksellers’ catalogues may
be forwarded, that he may select some books to “garnish” his library.
He was anxious that his son should study the genealogy and alliances of
noble French families, and prays that a herald may be engaged to instruct
him. But Thomas soon relapsed, and rumour of his ill-behaviour reached
Sir William, not at first from Windebank. In March 1562 an angry and
indignant letter went from Cecil to his son, reproaching him for his bad
conduct. There was no amendment, he said, and all who came from Paris
gave him the character of “a dissolute, slothful, negligent, and careless
young man,” and the letter is signed, “Your father of an unworthy son.” A
week later, 2nd April, Cecil wrote a characteristic and affecting letter
to Windebank, which deserves to be quoted nearly in full, for it shows us
the man more clearly than reams of State papers. “Windebank,” it runs,
“I am here used to pains and troubles, but none creep so near my heart
as doth this of my lewd son. I am perplexed what to think. The shame
that I shall receive to have so unruled a son grieveth me more than if
I had lost him in honest death. Good Windebank, consult my dear friend
Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, to whom I have referred the whole. I could be
best content that he would commit him secretly to some sharp prison.
If this shall not seem good, yet would I rather have him sent away to
Strasburg if possible, or to Lorraine, for my grief will grow double to
see him before some sort of amends. If none of these will serve, then
bring him home and I shall receive that which it pleaseth God to lay on
my shoulders; that is, in the midst of my business, for comfort a daily
torment. If ye shall come home with him, to cover the shame, let it
appear to be by reason of the troubles there.[162] I rather desire to
have this summer spent, though it were but to be absent from my sight. I
am so troubled as well, what to write I know not.”
Windebank had been protesting for some time his own unfitness—which was
obvious—and sending hints of the ill-conduct of his charge, who had
borrowed money on the credit of others, and scandalised his friends by
his dissoluteness; but at last the long-suffering tutor rebelled, and
wrote, 26th April, to Cecil, “I have forborne to write plainly, but now
I am clean out of hope, and am forced to do so. Sir, I see that Mr.
Thomas has utterly no mind nor disposition to apply to any learning;
being carried away by other affections that rule him, so that it maketh
him forget his duty in all things;” and with this Windebank resigns his
charge, for Thomas had openly defied him; advocates his immediate recall
if the war in France will allow him to come, or otherwise that he should
be sent to Flanders. But Windebank himself had had enough of Thomas
Cecil, and refused to accompany him further.
This instructive correspondence helps us to see that, beyond even his
wounded paternal affection, Sir William Cecil’s deepest feeling was
sensitiveness to the opinion of the world about him. That his son should
be unworthy touched him to the quick; but that the world should see
any shame or reproach resting upon the heir of his house and name, was
unendurable agony to one whose main social aims were to trace an ancient
ancestry and head a noble posterity.