1566-1567
Through the spring of 1566 the unfortunate Mary Stuart hurried to her
destruction. Her dislike of her husband increased as Bothwell obtained
more influence over her; all prudence with regard to the overt favouring
of Catholicism was cast aside, Murray and the “rebels” were sternly
forbidden to return to Scotland, and the breach between Mary and “her
good sister” grew wider every day. Nor is this to be wondered at.
Randolph was busy in supporting the Protestants, and had been warned away
from Mary’s court. His letters to Cecil are full of dread foreboding
of disaster to come, foreboding which most historians interpret as
foreknowledge. Cecil’s enemies have sought industriously to connect him
with the sanguinary scenes which were shortly afterwards enacted in
Scotland; but they have always reasoned from the information contained
in Randolph’s letters to him, which in no case can be considered as
evidence against him. That he was aware before Rizzio’s murder that some
sort of plot existed,[227] and that Murray and his friends were parties
to it, is certain; but that he himself had any share in its concoction,
so far as the killing of Rizzio is concerned, has never been proved, and
is most improbable.[228] As has been seen, his remedy for the Scottish
danger was not murder; for so far-seeing a man must have known that the
killing of a favourite secretary could not divert Mary from the league of
Catholic sovereigns, or alter her policy towards England whilst Huntly,
Bothwell, and Athol were at her side, and papal emissaries in her close
confidence. The killing of Rizzio satisfied Darnley’s spite, and served
Murray’s and Argyll’s personal ends, but was more likely to injure than
benefit English national objects.
What Cecil was personally doing during the first three months of 1566
was to strengthen the Protestant party in Scotland by money and promises
of support,[229] whilst dividing the Catholic sovereigns upon whom Mary
Stuart depended, by working desperately to bring the Archduke’s match to
a successful issue. With him now, in addition to the Earl of Sussex, were
the Duke of Norfolk, the Earl of Arundel, and many others who usually
leant to the Catholic side; for Leicester was openly under French
influence, always suspicious in the eyes of old-fashioned Englishmen, and
now more than ever distrusted, for Cardinal Lorraine’s agents were around
Mary, and the Guisan Rambouillet was carrying the Order of St. Michael to
Darnley, with loving messages to the Queen of Scots.
On the last day of January 1566, Cecil and other Councillors went to
Guzman’s house to discuss the eternal question of the trade regulations
and the suppression of piracy. When their conference was finished, Cecil
took the Ambassador aside and urgently besought him to use his great
influence with the Queen in favour of the Archduke’s suit. The next day
the request was pressed even more warmly by Sussex, who told Guzman that
the majority of the Council had decided to address a joint note on the
subject to the Queen. The Spaniard was not enthusiastic, for he did not
wish to break entirely with Leicester in view of possibilities; but on
the 2nd February he broached the subject to the Queen and discussed it
at length. She was, as usual, diplomatic and shifty; but whenever she
was uncomfortably pressed, began to talk of her marriage with Leicester
as a possibility; and two days afterwards Guzman saw her walking in the
gallery at Whitehall with Leicester, who, she said, was just persuading
her to marry him, “as she would do if he were a king’s son.” People
thought, she continued, that it was Leicester’s fault she was unmarried,
and it had made him so unpopular that he would have to leave court.
Almost daily Cecil or Sussex urged the Ambassador to favour the Archduke
with the Queen, and were untiring in their attempts to induce the
Archduke himself to come to England, in the hope of forcing the Queen’s
hand. As a means to the same end they continued to sow jealousy between
the Catholic sovereigns. “Cecil tells me,” writes Guzman (2nd March),
“that so great and constant are the attempts of the French to hinder
this marriage, and to perturb the peace and friendship between your
Majesty and this country, that they leave no stone unturned with that
object. They are gaining over Lord Robert with gifts and favours, and
are even doing the same with Throgmorton. It is true that Cecil is not
friendly with them, but I think he tells me the truth with regard to
it.”[230] Again, when Sir Robert Melvil, who had come from Mary to pray
Elizabeth to release Lady Margaret, was leaving London on his return,
Cecil begged him to see Guzman before his departure, “as no person had
done so much as he had to bring about concord between the two Queens,
and he (Cecil) thought that if the differences could be referred to him
(Guzman) for arbitration, they might easily be settled.” Guzman thought
so too, and wrote by Melvil to Mary to that effect, advising her to
abandon arrogant pretensions, and accept such honourable terms as should
satisfy Elizabeth;[231] and, as a preliminary, he exhorted her to live
on good terms with her husband. Before Melvil left Cecil, the latter
told him that they had news of Rizzio’s murder (this was written on the
18th March), and at the same time there came a messenger from Murray,
saying that he had returned into Scotland (from Newcastle) on a letter
of assurance from Darnley. The Earl of Murray had entered Edinburgh in
triumph the day after the murder, and the Queen and Darnley had together
started for Dunbar.
Another opportunity for Cecil to breed dissensions between Spain and
France came when the news arrived of Pero Melendez’s massacre of the
French settlement in Florida, on the ground that the territory belonged
to the King of Spain. The Queen professed herself to Guzman delighted at
such good news; but was surprised that Florida was claimed by Spain, as
she always thought that the Frenchman Ribault had discovered it; indeed
she had seriously thought of conquering it herself. Guzman saw Cecil
when he left the Queen (30th March), and the Secretary had nothing but
reprobation for Coligny, who had sent out the French Florida expedition.
“He said your Majesty should proclaim your rights with regard to Florida,
that they might be known everywhere.” Cecil, shortly before this, whilst
discussing the question of Hawkins’ voyages to Guinea and South America,
said that he himself had been offered a share in the enterprise, but
that he did not care to have anything to do with such adventures. By
all this it will be seen that Cecil’s strenuous efforts to combat the
Catholic league, which might lend to Mary Stuart a united support against
England, took the traditional form of drawing the House of Austria to the
side of England, and causing jealousy between France and Spain. He knew
that in the long-run national antipathies were stronger than religious
affinities, and that the Catholic league, which had been ineffectual
after the peace of Cateau-Cambresis (1559), could with time and industry
be broken again.[232]
But while Cecil approached Spain in order to divide her from France, he
never forgot that Philip was the champion of the Catholics throughout the
world, and kept his eyes on every movement which might forebode ill to
England. His spies in Flanders were daily sending reports of the rumours
there of King Philip’s attitude towards the resistance of the Flemish
nobles to the Inquisition; indeed, as Guzman writes to his master (29th
April): “These people have intelligence from everywhere, and are watching
religious affairs closely; but it is difficult to understand what they
are about, and with whom they correspond, as Cecil does it all himself,
and does not trust even his own secretary.”[233]
Cecil might well be vigilant, for Mary Stuart’s plots went on
unceasingly.[234] Sir Robert Melvil arrived in London in May, again
to discuss the question of the succession, and to ask Elizabeth to
stand sponsor for Mary’s expected child; but, greatly to Elizabeth’s
indignation, he brought amiable letters from the Scottish Queen to the
Earl of Northumberland and other English Catholic nobles; and whilst he
was in London, an emissary from Mary Stuart to the Pope passed through on
his return to Scotland with 20,000 crowns from the Pontiff, and a promise
of 4000 crowns a month to pay a thousand soldiers for her (Mary’s)
defence. An envoy, too, of the rebel Shan O’Neil was at the same time
lurking in Edinburgh, conferring with the Queen.
All this was known to Cecil and Elizabeth, and drove them ever nearer
to Spain and to the Archduke’s match, Leicester himself, probably out
of jealousy of Ormonde, who was vigorously flirting with the Queen, now
openly siding with the Austrian. Even Throgmorton was reconciled with
Cecil by the Earls of Pembroke and Leicester, who promised the Secretary
that Throgmorton should no longer thwart his policy.
On the 23rd June, Sir James Melvil arrived with breakneck speed in London
from Edinburgh, with news of the birth of Mary Stuart’s heir.[235] It was
late, but Sir Robert Melvil, the Ambassador, lost no time in conveying
the tidings to Cecil, whose own entry of the event in the Perpetual
Calendar at Hatfield runs thus: “1566, 19 June, was borne James at
Edinburgh inter horæ 10 et 11 matutino.” Cecil promised to keep the
news secret from the court until Mary’s own messenger could convey it
officially to the Queen. Elizabeth was at Greenwich at the time, and
when Cecil arrived she was “in great mirth dancing after supper.” Cecil
approached the Queen and whispered in her ear, and in a moment the
secret was out and all joy vanished. With a burst of envy, Elizabeth,
almost in tears, told her ladies that the Queen of Scots was mother of
a fair boy, whilst she, Elizabeth, was but a “barren stock.”[236] When
the Melvils saw her the next day she had recovered her composure, and
promised to send Cecil to Scotland to be present at the christening,
which embassy the Secretary with some difficulty evaded, “as there were
so many suspicions on both sides.”[237]
The Queen had suffered a serious illness early in the summer, which, with
the anxiety of her position, had reduced her to a very low condition.
It was decided that a progress should be undertaken for her health, in
which the University of Oxford could be visited, and Cecil be specially
honoured by a stay of the Queen at his house of Burghley. She left London
in July, and underwent an ordeal at Oxford similar to that which she had
experienced two years before at Cambridge. The vestments controversy was
raging with great bitterness, clergymen were deprived and punished for
contumacy, pulpit and press were silenced, and the Protestants resentful.
Cecil was firm, but diplomatic, and the Queen indignant that her laws
should be called into question. Under the circumstances it required great
tact on both sides to avoid any untoward event during the Queen’s visit
to Oxford, where the Puritan party was very strong. Leicester and Cecil
were both with the Queen, the former strongly favouring the Puritans, the
latter taking his stand on the Queen’s order for the discipline of the
Church. On the Queen’s reception, the Vice-Chancellor, Dr. Humphreys,
one of the leaders of the anti-vestment party, approached to kiss the
Queen’s hand. “Mr. Doctor,” said the Queen, smiling, “that loose gown
becomes you mighty well; I wonder your notions should be so narrow.”
Once, during the speech of the public orator, tender ground was touched,
but the visit passed over without further embittering an already bitter
controversy, and Leicester and Cecil, Puritan Knollys, Catholic Howard
of Effingham, and many others received the honorary degree of Master of
Arts.[238]
Cecil’s own entries in his journal of the period are meagre enough:—
“1566. June. Fulsharst, a foole, was suborned to speak slanderously of
me at Greenwich to the Queen’s Majesty; for which he was committed to
Bridewell.
“June 16. A discord inter Com. Sussex et Leicester at Greenwych, ther
appeased by Her Majesty.
“August 3. The Queen’s Majesty was at Colly Weston, in Northamptonshire.
“August 5. The Queen’s Majesty at my house in Stamford.
“August 31. The Queen in progress went from Woodstock to Oxford.”
During the progress a disagreement between Cecil and Leicester took
place, as well as that mentioned between the latter and Sussex. The
communications between the Earl and the French were constant, and had
caused much heart-burning. The existence of a strong and active party
in the English court ostentatiously leaning to the French side, at a
time when Cecil’s whole policy depended upon keeping the good-will of
Spain, hampered him at every turn, and he wrote a letter to Sir Thomas
Hoby, privately instructing him to give out in France that Leicester’s
influence over the Queen had decreased, and that the French need not
court him so much as they did. When the letter arrived, Hoby, the
Ambassador, was dead, and it fell into other hands. Leicester heard of
it, and taxed Cecil, who retorted angrily.
Even in Cecil’s own house the intrigues against his policy continued. He
had sent Danett to the Emperor with the draft clauses of the proposed
marriage treaty with the Archduke, and the news from Vienna seemed to
confirm the best hopes of those who favoured the Austrian match. This,
of course, did not suit Leicester. Vulcob, the nephew of the new French
Ambassador, Bôchetel de la Forest, went to Stamford to carry his uncle’s
excuses for not coming earlier to see the Queen. As he was entering the
presence-chamber at Burghley, Leicester stopped him, and began talking
about the marriage. He hardly knew what to think, he said, but he was
sure that if the Queen ever did marry, she would choose no one but
himself for a husband. The Frenchman, no doubt, understood him. The
Archduke’s match was getting too promising, and must be checked by the
usual French move. So Vulcob took care when he saw the Queen to dwell
mainly upon the attractive physical qualities of the young King Charles
IX. Elizabeth was never tired of such a subject, and very soon the French
Ambassador was warmly intriguing to bring forward his master’s suit
again, as a counterpoise to the Austrian hopes, but really in Leicester’s
interests, whilst presents and loving messages came thick and fast from
France to Leicester and Throgmorton. The Emperor’s reply by Danett was,
after all, not so encouraging as Cecil and Sussex had been led to expect,
and Leicester’s hopes rose higher than ever. During the Queen’s progress
he arranged with his friends a scheme which seemed as if it would stop
the Archduke’s chances for ever. Parliament was to meet in October,
and the plan was to influence both Houses to press the Queen on the
questions of the succession and her marriage, “so that by this means the
Archduke’s business may be upset … and then he (Leicester) may treat of
his own affair at his leisure.” It was clear that any attempt on the part
of the Puritans and Leicester to force the Queen’s hands with regard to
the marriage whilst the delicate religious question was under discussion
with the Emperor, would put an end to the negotiations, and Cecil and
his friends strove their utmost to avoid such a result. They urged
Guzman again to persuade the Queen to the match; the Duke of Norfolk
came purposely to court with the same object, and for once Cecil himself
was willing, in appearance, to place the religious question in the
background. “Cecil,” writes Guzman, “desires this business so greatly,
that he does not speak about the religious point; but this may be deceit,
as his wife is of a contrary opinion, and thinks that great trouble may
be caused to the peace of the country through it. She has great influence
with her husband, and no doubt discusses the matter with him; but she
appears a much more furious heretic than he is.” Well might the Queen and
Cecil be apparently more anxious to sink religious differences than Lady
Cecil, for they probably knew how imminent the danger was better than she.
The Protestants in Flanders and Holland were in open revolt; and slow
Philip was collecting in Spain and Italy an overwhelming force by land
and sea, with which he himself was to come as the avenger of his injured
kingship, and crush the rising spirit of religious reform. If such an
army as his swept over and desolated his Netherlands, whither next might
it turn? For six years Elizabeth had kept Spain from harming her, out
of jealousy of France; but France was now more than half Guisan, and in
favour of Mary Stuart, and the Huguenots themselves had deserted England
when she was fighting their battle at Havre. No help, then, could be
expected from France if Spain attacked Elizabeth for her “heresy”; and
the Queen and her wise minister were fain to conciliate a foe they
were not powerful enough to face in the open. Elizabeth went beyond
the Spaniard himself in her violent denunciation of the insurgents in
the Netherlands. Their only aim, she said, was liberty against God and
princes. They had neither reason, virtue, nor religion. She excused
herself for having helped the French Huguenots, which she only did, she
said, to recover Calais. If the Netherlands rebels came to her for help,
she would show them how dearly she held the interests of her good brother
King Philip; “and she cursed subjects who did not recognise the mercy
that God had shown them in sending them a prince so clement and humane
as your Majesty.”[239] Cecil was not quite so extravagant as this, but
he missed no opportunity at so critical a juncture of drawing nearer to
Spain, and was even more compliant than ever before on the vexed subject
of the English right to trade in the Spanish Indies. “Cecil is well
disposed in this matter,” writes Guzman, “and I am not surprised that
the others are not, as they are interested. Cecil assures me that he has
always stood aloof from similar enterprises.”
In the meanwhile Leicester’s persistent efforts to hamper Cecil’s policy
were bearing fruit. With great difficulty Cecil persuaded the House of
Commons to vote the supplies before the question of the succession was
dealt with, but a free fight on the floor of the House preceded the vote.
The Queen was irritated beyond measure at the inopportune activity of the
extreme party about the succession. Sussex, the Spanish Ambassador, and
others of Catholic leanings, pointed out to her that if she married the
Archduke there would be an end of the trouble, and she need not then
think of any successor other than her own children. At length a joint
meeting of the two Houses adopted an address to the Queen, urging her
to appoint a successor if she did not intend to marry. When the address
was presented, her rage passed all decency.[240] The Duke of Norfolk,
her own kinsman, and the first subject of the realm, was insulted with
vulgar abuse, which well-nigh reduced him to tears. Leicester, Pembroke,
Northampton, and Howard were railed at and scolded in turn; only once did
she soften somewhat towards Leicester. She had thought, she said, that
if all the world had abandoned her, he would never do so. What do the
devils want? she asked Guzman. Oh! your Majesty, replied the Ambassador,
what they want is liberty, and if monarchs do not combine against it,
it is easy to see how it will all end. She would send the ungrateful
fellow Leicester away, she said, and the Archduke might now be without
suspicion. Gradually, as she calmed, her diplomacy asserted itself, and
cleverly, by alternations of threats and cajolery, she reduced Parliament
to the required condition of invertebrate dependence upon her will.[241]
All this, we may be sure, did not decrease the ill-feeling in the court,
which for the next six months became a hotbed of intrigue. On the one
side were Norfolk, Sussex, the Conservatives, and the Catholics, aided
by Guzman, and cautiously supported by Cecil and Bacon; whilst on the
other, Leicester, Throgmorton, Pembroke, Knollys, and the Puritans,
backed by the French Ambassador, ceaselessly endeavoured to check the
Austrian-Spanish friendship, and if possible, above all, to ruin Sussex
and prevent his embassy to the Emperor. That Leicester would stick at no
inconsistency is seen by the curious fact that, whilst he was nominally
heading the Puritan party, he, according to Melvil, was strenuously
favouring the claims of the Queen of Scots to the succession. He assured
Elizabeth that this would be her best safeguard, or “Cecil would undo
all,” the reason for this being that Cecil was known to be in favour of
Catharine Grey.
On the 14th February 1567, Cecil sent word to his friend Guzman that he
had just received secret advice of the murder of Darnley, of which he
gave some hasty particulars. The intelligence could hardly have come
as a surprise to the Spaniard, for a month previously he had informed
Philip that some such act was contemplated. Within a few hours of the
reception of the news in London, Leicester sent his brother, the Earl of
Warwick, to Catharine Grey’s husband, to offer him his services in the
matter of the succession. Five days afterwards Sir James Melvil came with
full particulars of the foul deed at Kirk o’ Field, and at once rumour
was busy with the name of Mary Stuart as an accomplice in her husband’s
death. Elizabeth expressed sorrow and compassion on the day she heard
the news, but rather doubtfully told Guzman “that she could not believe
that the Queen of Scots could be to blame for so dreadful a thing,
notwithstanding the murmurs of the people.” When Guzman, however, pointed
out to her how dangerous it would be for the opposite party (Catharine
Grey’s friends) to make capital out of the accusation, the Queen agreed
that it would be wise to discountenance it, and to keep friendly with
Mary Stuart, in order to prevent her from falling under French influence
again.
In a letter from Cecil to Norris (20th February) he says: “The Queen
sent yesterday my Lady Howard and my wife to Lady Lennox, in the Tower,
to open this matter to her, who could not by any means be kept from such
passions of mind as the horribleness of the fact did require.… I hope
her Majesty will show some favourable compassion of the said lady, whom
any humane nature must needs pity.… The most suspicion that I can hear
is of Earl Bothwell, yet I would not be thought the author of any such
report.”[242] Lady Margaret, in her agony of grief, made no scruple at
first in accusing her daughter-in-law of complicity in the murder; but
the bereaved mother left the Tower on the following day, doubtless warned
of the unwisdom of saying what she thought. At least, when she saw Sir
James Melvil she told him, “She did not believe that Mary had been a
party to the death of her son, but she could not help complaining of her
bad treatment of him.” But whatever she might say, the spirits of the
Catholic party in England sank to zero at the black cloud which hovered
over their candidate. “Every day it becomes clearer that the Queen of
Scotland must take some step to prove that she had no hand in the death
of her husband if she is to prosper in her claims to the succession
here,”[243] wrote Guzman. Fortunately this book is not the place in
which to discuss the vexed question of Mary’s complicity in Darnley’s
death, but her contemporaries both in England and Scotland, as well as
abroad, certainly thought her guilty. Cecil, writing to Sir Henry Norris
in March, mentions the suspicions against Bothwell, Balfour, &c., and
says, “There are words added, which I am loth to report, that touch the
Queen of Scots, which I hold best to be suppressed. Further, such persons
anointed are not to be thought ill of without manifest proof.”[244]
And again, a few days afterwards, he says, “The Queen of Scots is not
well spoken of.” The entry of the event in Cecil’s journal makes no
mention of Mary. It runs thus: “Feb. 9. The L. Darnley, K. of Scots, was
killed and murdered near Edenburgh;” and on the following day the news
is amplified thus: “Feb. 10. _Hora secunda post mediam noctem Hen. Rex
Scotiæ interfectus fuit, per Jac Co. Bothwell, Jac Ormeston de Ormeston,
Hob Ormeston patrem dicti Jac Ormeston, Tho Hepbourn._”
Morette, the Duke of Savoy’s special envoy to Scotland, had left
Edinburgh the day after the murder, and on his way through London saw
Guzman. The Queen of Scots had assured Morette that she would avenge
her husband’s death, and punish the murderers, but he made no secret of
his belief that she had prior knowledge of the plan. Whilst Morette was
dining with Guzman and the French Ambassador, a French messenger named
Clerivault arrived at the house, bringing a letter from Mary to the
Queen of England, claiming her pity, and similar letters for Catharine
de Medici, the Archbishop of Glasgow, and others,[245] denouncing
the crime.[246] Mary, indeed, lost no time in endeavouring to put
herself right before the world. She offered rewards for the discovery
of the murderers; but when all fingers are pointed at Bothwell and his
creatures, when public placards were posted in the capital accusing them
and hinting at the Queen’s complicity, Mary still kept the principals
at her side, and made no move against their subaltern instruments. In
vain, for a time, the bereaved father Lennox demanded vengeance; in vain
Elizabeth, by Killigrew, sent indignant letters to Mary; in vain the
Catholic Archbishop of Glasgow exhorted her to prove her own innocence by
pursuing the offenders without mercy. Bothwell stood ever by her side,
and his clansmen cowed the murmuring citizens who looked with aversion
now upon their beautiful young Queen. At length, goaded to take some
action by the danger of losing the Catholic support, upon which alone
she had depended, she held the sham trial in the Edinburgh Tolbooth two
months after the crime. Lennox refused to attend the travesty of justice,
and Bothwell was unanimously acquitted. Murray had left the court before
the murder, and fled to France when the result of the trial was known.
Bothwell, loaded with favours, insolent with success, seemed to hold
Scotland and the Queen in the hollow of his hand. The nobles were mostly
bought or threatened into shameful compliance, and only the “preachers”
and the townsfolk kept alive the growing horror of the Queen. No longer,
even, did the humble peasant women hesitate, before Mary’s face, to make
their loyal blessing conditional upon her innocence.[247] What was
horrified doubt before became indignant reprobation when, only three
months after Darnley’s death, Mary married the hastily divorced Bothwell.
Then came the hurried flight in disguise towards Dunbar, the gathering of
the nobles, the flight of Bothwell at Carbery Hill, and the conveyance of
the disgraced Queen to Edinburgh. When nothing but vows of defiance and
vengeance against Bothwell’s enemies could be obtained from her, and it
was clear that the unfortunate woman was deaf to reason and decency, came
the crowning degradation of Lochleven, and Mary Stuart’s sun set to rise
no more.
To a short life of turbulent pleasure succeeded twenty years of plotting
against the peace and independence of England and the cause of religious
liberty. During that twenty years Cecil and his mistress were pitted
against one of the cleverest women in Europe, supported by all that was
discontented in England and Scotland, and all that was distinctively
Catholic abroad. In the critical position caused by the rising of the
Protestant Lords against Bothwell and the Queen, Cecil’s view diverged
somewhat from that of Elizabeth. The latter was naturally first concerned
at the want of respect shown on all sides to an anointed sovereign, which
subject was always a tender one with her; whereas the Secretary was still
anxious, before all else, to exclude French influence from Scotland.
Writing to Norris in France (26th June), he conveys the news of Mary’s
restraint, and at the same time encloses letters from Scotland recalling
Murray (then at Lyons), “the sending of which letters requireth great
haste, whereof you must not make the Scottish Ambassador privy.[248]… The
best part of the (Scots) nobility hath confederated themselves to follow,
by way of justice, the condemnation of Bothwell and his complices in the
murder of the King. Bothwell defends himself by the Queen’s maintenance
and the Hamiltons, so he hath some party, though it be not great. The
15th of this month he brought the Queen into the field with her power,
which was so small, as he escaped himself without fighting and left
the Queen in the field; and she yielded herself to the Lords, flatly
denying to grant justice against Bothwell, so as they have restrained
her in Lochleven until they come unto the end of their pursuit against
Bothwell.… Murray’s return into Scotland is much desired by them, and for
the weal both of England and Scotland I wish he were here. For his manner
of returning and safety, I pray require Mr. Stewart to have good care.…
The French Ambassador, and Villeroy, who is there (in Scotland), pretend
favour to the Lords, with great offers; and it may be that they may do
as much on the other side” (_i.e._ in France).[249] It was this last
possibility which so much disturbed Cecil, and it was to avert it that
Murray’s return was so ardently desired, for he was known always to be
opposed to the French influence in his country. In August, after Murray
had returned to Scotland (visiting Elizabeth at Windsor on his way home
at the end of July), Cecil wrote again to Norris: “You shall perceive
by the Queen’s letter to you herewith how earnestly she is bent in the
favour of the Queen of Scots; and truly since the beginning she hath been
greatly offended with the Lords in this action;[250] yet no counsel
can stay her Majesty from manifesting of her misliking of them; _so as,
indeed, I think thereby the French may, and will, easily catch them_,
and make their present profit of them, to the damage of England. In this
behalf her Majesty had no small misliking of that book which you sent me
written in French, whose (author’s) name yet I know not; but, howsoever,
I think him of great wit and acquaintance in the affairs of the world. It
is not in my power to procure any reward, and therefore you must so use
the matter as he neither be discouraged nor think unkindness in me.”[251]
How much Cecil dreaded renewed French interference in Scotland is seen at
this time by his ever-growing cordiality towards Spain. An acrimonious
discussion was going on, both in London and in Paris, with regard to
the restoration of Calais to England, which was now due by the treaty
of Cateau-Cambresis. Cecil and the Queen were both emphatic in their
condemnation of the Protestant risings in the Spanish Netherlands, though
French agents kept whispering to Guzman that help was being sent thither
by England. The union between Cecil and the Spaniard was nevertheless
closer than ever. The latter, in March, secretly told Cecil that the King
of France was sending De Croc to Scotland,[252] and that there seemed to
be some mystery brewing in that quarter. The Secretary replied that he
knew it; they had a plot to steal the Prince of Scotland and take him to
France, but that steps had been taken to prevent such a thing. Guzman
thereupon urged the Queen of England to have the infant Prince brought to
England, Mary having told Killigrew that she was willing that this should
be done.[253] Indeed, at this time Cecil’s perseverance had quite won
Spanish sympathy, and had widened the rift in the Catholic league, as was
necessary for England’s safety, Guzman being if anything more eager than
Cecil to checkmate the intrigues of the French in Scotland.
The efforts on the other side were just as incessant to divide Spain from
England, and more than once at this period caused temporary estrangement
between them. In June a somewhat unexpected embassy came from the
Emperor, with the object of asking Elizabeth for monetary aid against
the Turk. The principal Ambassador, Stolberg, was a Protestant, and the
Queen immediately jumped at the incorrect conclusion that he had come
to arrange for the wedding of the Archduke. Before even he arrived in
London, Stolberg had been persuaded that a great Catholic league had
been formed, including his own sovereign the Emperor, with the object
of crushing Elizabeth and rooting out Protestantism from Europe; and
when, at his formal reception at Richmond,[254] the Queen gave Stolberg
an unfavourable reply to his request for aid against the Turk, Cecil
took Guzman, who accompanied him, aside and told him that the Queen and
Council had learned the particulars of a league of the Catholic powers
against Elizabeth and the Protestants,[255] in favour of the Queen of
Scots. The better to effect the object, he said, the Emperor had made
a disadvantageous truce with the Turk, whereat the English Council was
much scandalised, and was determined to make all necessary preparations,
this being the reason why the Queen had answered the Ambassador so
unfavourably.[256] Guzman was shocked that so sensible a person as Cecil
should believe such nonsense. Probably Cecil knew as well as Guzman
that the league was dead, so far as united action against England was
concerned; but such attempts as this, to serve French ends by arousing
jealousy between Spain and England, were constant, and occasionally, as
in this instance, aroused some distrust on one side or the other.[257]
As soon as the detention of Mary Stuart was known by the French
Government an attempt was made to gain Murray to the side of France, in
order to obtain possession of the infant Prince. Murray delayed pledging
himself until he received the letters from the Lords and from Cecil,
already referred to. He then started with all haste for Scotland, taking
London on the way. Whilst in London at the end of July he saw Guzman,
and told him as a secret that he had not even communicated to Elizabeth,
that a letter existed which proved conclusively the guilt of his sister
in the murder of her husband.[258] It was evident thus early that Murray,
whilst expressing sympathy for his sister, and deprecating generally
any derogation of the dignity of a sovereign, was determined that Mary
Stuart should do no more harm to Protestantism or the relationship
between Scotland and England, if he could help it. “He said he would do
his best to find some means by which she should remain Queen, but without
sufficient liberty to do them any harm, or marry against the will of her
Council and Parliament.”[259] It is evident, from a letter from Cecil to
Norris, that Murray arranged with the former when in England to assume
the Regency of Scotland on his arrival, although not without misgiving on
the part of Elizabeth, even if she personally was a consenting party to
the arrangement. Murray, writing a friendly letter to Cecil early in 1568
(Hatfield Papers), mentions that a report had reached him that Cecil had
been told that he (Murray) was offended because Sir William in his first
letter had not addressed him as Regent. Murray assures him that this was
not the case, and begs him not to allow any such thought to disturb their
friendship, “the amity of the two countries being the great object of
both … although the Queen, your mistress, outwardly seems not altogether
to allow the present state here, yet I doubt not but her Highness in
heart liketh it well enough.” Elizabeth was at the time divided between
two feelings: that of indignation at any restraint being placed upon a
sovereign by subjects, and the knowledge that the imprisonment of Mary
meant the disablement of the only individual whom England had to fear.
Cecil was fully alive to the latter fact, whilst the former was to him
of quite secondary importance when compared with the national issues
involved.
When the news came of Mary’s renunciation and the crowning of the infant
James, the Lords wrote to Elizabeth, saying that either she must protect
them, or they must accept a French alliance; and she was then obliged
to prefer the interests of England to her reverence for the sacredness
of a sovereign. Guzman thus tells the story: “The Queen told me she did
not know what was best to be done, and asked my opinion, pointing out to
me the inexpediency of showing favour to so bad an example, and, on the
other hand, the danger to her of a new alliance of these people with the
French … I think I see more inclination on her part to aid them (the
Scots) than the case at present demands, as I gave her many reasons for
delay, whilst she still insisted that it was necessary to act at once.”
The next day (August 9) the tone of the Queen had somewhat changed. She
would, she said, recall Throgmorton from Scotland, as it was beneath her
dignity to have an Ambassador accredited to a sovereign in duress,[260]
and she would refuse her protection and aid to the Lords. The reason
for this perhaps was that “the letter she writes to Throgmorton is very
short. I have seen it, though I could not read it. It was in the hands
of Lord Robert (_i.e._ Leicester), who dictated it, and he carried it to
the Queen for signature in my presence, _Cecil not being present_.”[261]
Cecil, indeed, at this juncture had to proceed with great caution, and,
as usual, by indirect and devious ways. Leicester, Pembroke, and their
friends had now (August), as Guzman says, “no rivals, as Secretary Cecil
proceeds respectfully, and the rest who might support him are absent. He
knows well, however, that he is more diligent than they, and so keeps his
footing.”
In the meanwhile the Catholics in England were allowed almost perfect
immunity, whilst, on the other hand, strong land and sea forces were
mustered, as a counterbalance to the great army to be led into Flanders
by Alba. The closest friendship existed between the Spaniards and Cecil,
who was never tired of assuring Guzman that Hawkins’ great expedition,
then on the coast bound for Guinea, should under no circumstances do
anything prejudicial in any of the territories of the King of Spain;
notwithstanding which, and the fact that Philip’s Flemish fleet had just
been effusively welcomed at Dover, John Hawkins himself, when the same
fleet put into Plymouth, fired a few cannon shots at the flagship, and
banged away until the Spanish flag was hauled down, to the unspeakable
indignation of the Flemish admiral.
Things were in this condition in the autumn of 1567, all Europe being on
the alert watching the gathering of the storm over the Netherlands. So
long as there was any danger of French interference in Scotland, or of
the Catholic powers taking up the cause of Mary Stuart, Elizabeth, and
more especially Cecil, drew closer to Spain and the Catholic party in
England. But events moved quickly, and the whole aspect changed within a
few weeks. Almost simultaneously, in September 1567, came from different
quarters two preliminary thunderclaps that announced the tempest. The
advent of Alba in the Netherlands on his mission of vengeance had sent
affrighted fugitives flying in swarms across the narrow seas to England;
but when, on the 9th September, after the treacherous dinner-party in
Brussels, the two highest heads in Flanders, Egmont and Horn, were struck
at, and the bearers lodged in jail, all the world knew that the great
struggle had begun between liberty and Protestantism on the one side,
and tyranny and Catholicism on the other. Thanks mainly to Elizabeth
and Cecil, it was not to be fought out on British soil. Only a few weeks
afterwards came the news of Condé’s attempt to seize the young King of
France and his mother, and to rescue them from the influence of Cardinal
Lorraine. The attempt failed, but soon all France was ablaze with civil
war, for the Protestant worm at last had turned. Betrayed, as they had
been before, and face to face now with foreign mercenaries hurried into
France to suppress them, the convinced Huguenots decided to stand by
their faith, and fight to the death for liberty to exercise it, let
the “politicians” do what they might. The two events happening almost
together, whilst Mary Stuart was in prison under a cloud, and the rebel
Shan O’Neil in Ireland had finally fallen, at once relieved England of
all danger from without, unless the Catholic party was irresistibly
triumphant both in France and Flanders. The best way to prevent that was
to support those who were in arms against it, and the policy of Elizabeth
and Cecil was again cautiously changed accordingly.
As soon as the Queen received from Norris news of Condé’s rising, she
sent for Bôchetel, the French Ambassador, and ostentatiously condoled
with him for the disrespect shown to his sovereign. She rather overdid
the pity, and suggested that she should arbitrate between the King
and the Huguenots, but would take care that no help was given to the
latter from England. Bôchetel dryly thanked her for the assurance that
she would not help rebels _again_, but said that his King was quite
able to deal with his subjects without her assistance. Here, as in the
case of Mary Stuart, Elizabeth’s first feeling was indignation at any
disrespect being shown to a sovereign; but Cecil’s letter to Norris at
the time (November 3, 1567) shows that he and his friends looked at the
matter from another point of view,[262] which Elizabeth herself shortly
afterwards adopted, as she had done in the case of the Queen of Scots. In
the meanwhile the Council became daily more outspoken in favour of the
Huguenots. Messages of encouragement went speeding across the Channel
to Coligny, to Montgomerie, and the rest of the Huguenot leaders. Cecil
himself took Archbishop Parker to task for his leniency to Bishop Thirlby
and Dr. Boxall, who were in his custody for recusancy; and at the end of
November the official blindness as to people attending mass in London
came to an end. The English people who had worshipped undisturbed in the
Spanish Ambassador’s chapel were suddenly arrested, and many of them
sent to prison.[263] On the same day Cecil complained to Guzman that he
had promoted the breaking of the law by persuading Englishmen to attend
mass, and repeated other sinister reports about him. The Spaniard denied
the charges, and warned Cecil that, although his present attitude might
be prompted by patriotic motives, it was a dangerous one, “and that
some people were casting the responsibility upon him (Cecil), for the
purpose of making him unpopular.” Cecil, apparently, was not afraid of
this, for he had strained the loyalty of his friends almost to breaking
limits lately by the severity exercised against the anti-vestment divines
and his approaches to Spain, and doubtless welcomed the change in the
political position which allowed him to enforce uniformity upon Catholics
as well as upon his own co-religionists. There was a talk of expelling
all Catholics from the Queen’s household, and Bacon, the Chancellor,
made a speech in the Star Chamber directing the judges and officials
to put into renewed force and press vigorously, the laws against the
possession of books attacking the Protestant faith. “What most troubles
the Catholics, however,” writes Guzman, “is to see that Leicester has
become much more confirmed in his heresy, and is followed by the Earl of
Pembroke, who had been considered a Catholic. There is nobody now on the
Catholic side in the Council.”
The hollow negotiations, too, for the Archduke’s marriage, carried on
by honest Sussex in Vienna, were politely shelved; and the political
pretence which Elizabeth and Cecil had kept up for so long, of a leaning
towards the Catholic side, could safely be discarded until the renewed
liability of England to attack from without might again call for its
resumption. So far the Queen and her minister had dissembled to good
purpose, for the great struggle for the faith had been diverted from
England to the Continent, and the monarchs of France and Spain were both
busy in suppressing the religious revolts of their own subjects.