1581-1584
Alençon had nominally accepted the sovereignty of Flanders offered to him
by the States of Ghent in the autumn of 1580; but whilst the Huguenots
were in arms against his brother, he had no force of men to enable him to
enter and assume the government of his new dominion. He had industriously
striven to draw Elizabeth into a marriage, or into aiding him in Flanders
as a price for her jilting him; but she had always been too clever for
him, and kept on the right side of a positive compromise. When the
fears of war with Spain engendered in England by Drake’s depredations
became acute, and the Spanish aid to the Irish rebels could no longer
be concealed, it was necessary once more for England to draw close to
France. A request was accordingly sent for a special French embassy to
come to England empowered to settle the details of the Alençon marriage
and a national alliance. Elizabeth’s letters to Alençon became more
affectionate than ever: she promised him 200,000 crowns of Drake’s
plunder to pay German mercenaries to support him in Flanders, she sent
the lovelorn Prince a wedding-ring, she petted and bribed his agent until
her own courtiers were all jealous; and under the influence of Burghley
and Sussex, once more the marriage negotiations assumed a serious aspect,
whilst Leicester and Hatton chafed in the background.
The activity of the seminary priests and missionaries, in conjunction
with the Papal invasion of Ireland, had been answered in England by
fresh severity against the Catholics. The gaols were all full to
overflowing with English recusants; fresh proclamations were issued
against harbouring priests; and spies at home and abroad were following
the ubiquitous movements of the zealous young members of the Society of
Jesus, who yearned for the crown of martyrdom. There is no doubt that
to some extent the new persecution of the Catholics was for the purpose
of reconciling the Puritans to the Alençon match, but it was still more
owing to the genuine alarm of a war against Spain and the Pope.
Parliament opened on the 16th January 1581, after twenty-four
prorogations, this only being its third session, although it was elected
in 1572. We have already seen that the Puritan party was strong in
the House of Commons, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir Walter
Mildmay, in his speech, voiced the general feeling of the country at
the dangers that seemed impending. “Our enemies sleep not,” he said,
“and it behoveth us not to be careless, as though all were past; but
rather to think that there is but a piece of the storm over, and that
the greater part of the tempest remaineth behind, and is like to fall
upon us by the malice of the Pope, the most capital enemy of the Queen
and this State.”[443] He denounced the “absolutions, dispensations,
reconciliations, and such other things of Rome. You see how lately he
(the Pope) hath sent hither a sort of hypocrites, naming themselves
Jesuits, a rabble of vagrant friars, newly sprung up, running through
the world to trouble the Church of God.” The aim of the oration, of
course, was to lead the House to vote liberal supplies for the defence
of the country, and in this it was successful; though, when the Puritan
majority endeavoured to appoint days of fasting and humiliation by
Parliamentary vote, they were rapped over the knuckles by the Queen,
as they had been in the previous session, for interfering with her
prerogative.[444]
The country, in fact, was now thoroughly alive to the danger into which
it had drifted, and Lord Burghley’s hand once more took the tiller,
to remedy, so far as he might, the evils which had resulted from the
temporary abandonment of his cautious policy.[445] His task was not an
easy one to settle the preliminaries of the pompous embassy which was
to come from France. There were a host of questions to be considered.
The Queen would insist upon the Ambassadors being of the highest rank,
and having full powers. Leicester and Hatton objected to their coming at
all; Alençon insisted that they should be only empowered to negotiate a
marriage, and not an alliance; whilst Cobham, the English Ambassador,
endeavoured ineffectually to draw Henry III. into a pledge to break
with Spain about Portugal before the embassy left France. At last all
was arranged, and in April the Ambassadors, with a suite of two hundred
persons, arrived in London.[446] Drake’s silver was drawn upon liberally
for presents; a new gallery was built at Whitehall for the entertainment
of the envoys; Philip Sidney wrote a masque, and played the fool for once
for their delectation; and joust and tourney, ball and banquet, succeeded
each other hourly, to the exclusion of more serious business.
Leicester had done his best to stop the embassy, but without effect,
and wrote to Lord Shrewsbury that he “was greatly troubled at these
great lords coming.”[447] He tried to work upon the Queen’s weak side,
by assuring her that the one object of the Frenchmen was to lead her
into heavy expenditure, and so to enfeeble her, that she might the more
easily be conquered.[448] This, at all events, caused some restriction in
the expenditure; for the Queen suddenly discovered that it would not be
dignified for her to entertain the Ambassadors or pay for horses until
they actually arrived in London. Burghley may be presumed to have been
delighted at their coming, for he made no effort to limit the cost of
his banquet to them at Cecil House, in the Strand, which was one of the
most splendid entertainments offered to them. There is in the Lansdowne
MSS. a full relation of this splendid feast of the 30th April, with the
bills of fare, accounts of expenses, &c., which gives some notion of the
splendour and extent of Burghley’s household. There were consumed two
stags, 40s.; two bucks, 20s.; six kids, 24s.; six pigs, 10s.; six shins
of beef, 24s.; four gammons of bacon, 16s.; one swan, 10s.; three cranes,
20s.; twenty-four curlews, 24s.; fifteen pheasants, 30s.; fifty-four
herons, £8, 15s.; eight partridges, 8s., and vast quantities of meat
of all sorts; and sturgeon, conger, salmon, trout, lampreys, lobsters,
prawns, gurnards, oysters, and many sorts of fresh-water fish. Herbs
and salads cost no less than 36s., and cream, 27s. There were consumed
3300 eggs, 360 lbs. of butter, 42 lbs. of spices, and three gallons of
rose-water. £11, 7s. 3d. was paid for the hire of extra vessels and
glass; flowers and rushes cost £5, 7s. 10d., and Turkey carpets, £11.
This Gargantuan feast was served by forty-nine gentlemen and thirty-four
servants, and was washed down with £75 worth of beer as well as Gascon,
sack, hippocras, and other wine costing £21; the entire expenditure on
the afternoon’s feeding being £649, 1s. 5d.
Though Burghley and Sussex had brought over the embassy in hopes of a
marriage, or at least an alliance, the Queen changed from hour to hour.
When Leicester complained to her, she silenced him by saying that she
could avoid a marriage whenever she liked by bringing Alençon over
whilst the embassy was in England, and then setting the Frenchmen at
loggerheads, and by subsidising the Prince’s attempts in Flanders. At the
same time she certainly led Sussex, and probably Burghley, to believe
that she might be in earnest at last.
After some weeks the elder Ambassadors got tired of trifling, and begged
the Queen to appoint a committee of the Council to negotiate with them.
The great banquet at Burghley House was the preliminary meeting, and a
paper at Hatfield, endorsed by Burghley, lays down, in the usual precise
manner of the time, every aspect of the matter. The propositions are
three: 1st, if the Queen should remain unmarried; 2nd, if she should
marry Alençon; and 3rd, if she should enter into some strait league with
the French. In the first eventuality the Queen must strengthen herself
and weaken her opponents; Scotland must be reduced to the same friendship
that existed before the advent of D’Aubigny; James’s marriage to a
Catholic must be prevented; Mary Stuart must be held tightly; Ireland
must be subdued; the entire domination of Spain over the Netherlands
must be avoided, and an alliance concluded either with France or the
German Protestants. In the second eventuality, that the Queen should
marry Alençon, the writer urges that the wedding should take place
without delay, but always on condition that religion in England must be
safeguarded, and Henry III. pledged to provide most of the means for
Alençon’s enterprise in Flanders. On the other hand, if the marriage is
not to take place, care must be taken that no offence is given to the
suitor. “Since the treaty with Simier many accidents have happened to
make this marriage hateful to the people, as the invasion of Ireland by
the Pope, the determination of the Pope to stir up rebellion in this
realm by sending in a number of English Jesuits, who have by books,
challenges, and secret instructions and seductions, procured a great
defection of many people to relinquish their obedience to her Majesty.
Likewise there is a manifest practice in Scotland, by D’Aubigny, to
alienate the young King of Scotland, both from favouring the Protestant
religion and from amity to her Majesty and her realm, notwithstanding
that he hath only been conserved in his crown at her Majesty’s
charges.”[449]
Although this paper has usually been treated as emanating from Burghley,
I consider it much more likely to have been the work of Walsingham. There
is at Hatfield, of similar date (2nd May 1581), a note, all in the Lord
Treasurer’s hand, for his speech to the Ambassadors, and this is preceded
by a private remark that, before a definite answer can be given, “it is
necessary to know her Majesty’s own mind, to what end she will have this
treaty tend, either to a marriage or no marriage, amity or no amity.”
As Burghley seems not to have possessed this information, it is not
surprising that the draft of his speech simply tends to delay. The Queen
has written to Alençon, he says, and must have a reply before she can say
anything definite about the marriage; but as there has been some talk on
both sides of a close alliance, the Queen expects the Ambassadors to be
empowered to deal with that also.[450]
The Ambassadors themselves give an account of a speech of Burghley’s,
either on this or another occasion, in which he declared that, although
he was formerly against the marriage, he now personally thought it
desirable. Brisson replied in a similar strain, and then the strong
Protestantism of Walsingham asserted itself. He said that the hope of the
marriage had caused the Pope to flood England with Jesuits and invade
Ireland, the Catholics in England were already in high feather about it,
and Alençon had broken faith, and had entered into negotiations with the
States General, since Simier took the draft treaty. Besides, he said,
look at the danger of child-bearing to the Queen at her age. The marriage
would probably drag England into war at least, and until the Queen
received a reply to her letters the negotiations for the marriage must
stand over.[451]
It is quite evident that the Queen desired an alliance without a
marriage, and to draw France into open hostility to Spain, whilst she
remained unpledged. But Secretary Pinart was almost as clever as
Burghley, and played his cards well, and no progress was made. Let
them marry first, said Pinart, it would be easy to make an alliance
afterwards. Affairs were thus at a deadlock. Alençon was on the frontier
with a body of men ready to enter Flanders to relieve Cambray, when his
brother’s forces dispersed them. It was then clear to the Prince that he
must depend upon the Queen of England alone; and ceding to the pressure
of his agent in England, he suddenly rushed over to London (2nd June), to
the confusion of the Ambassadors, who shut themselves up to avoid meeting
him. The Queen was all smiles, for she was satisfied now that Alençon was
obliged to look to her only for aid, marriage or no marriage. Alençon
went back after a few days as secretly as he had come, but every one
saw that the Queen had won the trick; and the pompous embassy went back
loaded with presents, but only taking with it a draft marriage treaty,
accompanied by a letter from Elizabeth, saying that she might alter her
mind if she liked, in which case the treaty was to be considered as
annulled.[452]
In the meanwhile Mendoza was watching closely the attempts of Leicester
to persuade the Queen to aid Don Antonio in Portugal, as well as to
provide means for Alençon in Flanders. Walsingham had laid a trap for
Mendoza, who was induced to pay a large sum of money to some Hollanders
who promised to betray Flushing to the Spaniards, but really did just the
opposite. The Hollanders left with the Spanish Ambassador the child son
of one of them as a hostage. By orders of Walsingham the embassy was
violated and the boy taken away; and this amongst many other grievances
was the source of endless squabbling with the Queen, who invariably
retorted to all Mendoza’s complaints that Philip had connived at the
invasion of Ireland. After one of his interviews with the Queen (24th
June) he writes: “It is impossible for me to express the insincerity with
which she and her ministers proceed.… She contradicts me every moment in
my version of the negotiations.… I understood from her and Cecil, who is
one of the few ministers who show any signs of straightforwardness, that
they understood that your Majesty intended to write to the Queen assuring
her that the succour had not been sent to Ireland on your behalf. I told
them that the matter referred to the Pope alone, but Cecil said they
wished to see a letter from your Majesty;” whereupon Mendoza angrily told
him that the word of an Ambassador was sufficient.
On the same day that this conversation took place, Burghley’s task of
keeping the peace was rendered still more difficult by the arrival in
England of the fugitive Portuguese Pretender, Don Antonio, who was at
once taken up by Leicester and Hatton. The Spanish Ambassador was told
by Hatton that if he wanted his passports he could have them, and the
Queen almost insultingly refused him audience. Mendoza then wrote her a
letter, which he thought the Queen would be obliged to show to the whole
Council, “where I was sure some of the members would point out to her
the danger she was running in refusing to receive me and thus irritating
your Majesty. Cecil, particularly, who is the person upon whom the
Queen depends in matters of importance, had seen me a few days before,
and said how sorry he was that these things should occur, and that he
should be unable to remedy them, as he was sure I could not avoid being
offended.”[453]
A few weeks afterwards Mendoza made another attempt to see the Queen,
who was then in the country. She said that as Philip had not written
any excuse about the Spanish expedition to Ireland, she did not see her
way to receive the Ambassador. If he had anything to say he might tell
it to two Councillors. Burghley was known to be the most favourable of
them, and had expressed to Mendoza his ignorance that the audience had
been refused. “He did not think it wise to refuse me; and as he is the
most important of the ministers I thought best to inform him of the
reply I had received, and to say I should like to see him.” Burghley
was ill of gout at Theobalds at the time, but shortly afterwards he
came to town and asked Mendoza to see him at Leicester House, “his gout
preventing him from coming further.” Mendoza found him with Leicester
together, and in reply to the stereotyped complaints of the Ambassador
about Drake’s plunder, the aid to the Portuguese, and the refusal of
audience, the Treasurer firmly told him that the Queen thought he had
been remiss in not obtaining a letter from the King disclaiming the Irish
expedition. This Mendoza haughtily refused to do, and the conference
ended unsatisfactorily.[454]
It is evident that at this period (August 1581) Burghley was in despair
of keeping on friendly relations with Spain. The Queen and Leicester
had determined to subsidise Alençon in Flanders, and to countenance
Don Antonio’s attempts on Portugal. This coming after the retention
of Drake’s plunder, and refusal of audience to the Ambassador, seemed
to make the continuance of peace between the two countries impossible,
and Burghley was once more obliged to turn to the necessary, but to him
distasteful, alternative—a close union with France.
The great French embassy had gone back defeated, for they saw that
Elizabeth was befooling Alençon, and that the national alliance would
only be made on terms advantageous to English interests in Flanders.
But it was necessary for Henry III. and his mother to cling to England
if they were effectually to oppose Philip in Portugal. The Guises were
becoming more overbearing and powerful than ever under the popular Duke
Henry; they were known to be turning towards Spain, and their ambitions
were high both for themselves and for their cousin Mary Stuart. To avoid
the complete subjugation of France to their ends, the King was therefore
obliged to court Elizabeth, and suffer her to have her way with Alençon
and Flanders. Henry III. consequently asked Elizabeth, through Somers,
to name a day for the marriage, simultaneously with which an offensive
and defensive alliance would be concluded, and a secret agreement entered
into with regard to the establishment of Alençon in Flanders. This, of
course, was understood to be merely fencing, and Walsingham himself was
sent to France to conclude a treaty. He was instructed to say that the
French were mistaken in supposing that the marriage was settled. The
Queen could not consent to the marriage now, for, as Alençon was already
in arms against the King of Spain, it would “bring us and our realme into
war, which in no respect our realme and subjects can accept.” But if the
King will accept her secret aid to Alençon’s plan in Flanders, and the
opposition to Spain in Portugal, she will be willing to conclude an
offensive and defensive alliance with him. In any case, the marriage was
to be abandoned. Walsingham saw Alençon in Picardy before going to Paris,
and, as may be supposed, the young Prince was in despair at the Queen’s
fickleness. He was certain his brother would not make an alliance without
the marriage, as he feared the Queen would slip out of it, leaving
France alone face to face with Spain.[455] If, said Catharine, who was
with her son, the Queen of England broke her word about the marriage for
fear of her people, she might break an alliance for a similar reason.
But Walsingham made it clear to both of them that Elizabeth would not
allow herself to be dragged into war with Spain, though covert aid
should be given to her late suitor. Poor Alençon wept and stormed, but
in vain. Anything short of marriage was useless to him, he said. His
brother neither had helped nor would help him against Spain, unless the
marriage took place. He himself would come to England for an answer
from the Queen’s lips as soon as he had raised the siege of Cambray.
Elizabeth complained of Walsingham’s management of the interview; he
could rarely content her. He had, she said, been too abrupt in breaking
off the marriage. Burghley pointed out to her that she could not have all
her own way. She wanted, he said, to keep the marriage afoot, and yet
not to marry; to aid Alençon secretly, whilst France aided him openly;
to conclude an alliance by which she gained everything, and France
nothing.[456]
Elizabeth, in a rage, swore that Leicester and the Puritans were dragging
her into all sorts of expense and trouble,[457] from which she could not
extricate herself without war. Walsingham was soon disgusted with his
task, for he could make but little progress in Paris, and the Queen found
fault with him constantly. He answered boldly, almost rudely, to all her
strictures. He told her that with all this hesitation about the marriage
“you lose the benefit of time, which, if years be considered, is not the
least thing to be weighed. If you mean it (the marriage) not, then assure
yourself it is one of the worst remedies you can use.… When your Majesty
doth see in what doubtful terms you stand with foreign princes, then you
do wish with great affection that opportunities offered had not been
overslipped; but when they are offered you, if they be accompanied by
charges, they are altogether neglected. The respect of charges hath lost
Scotland, and I would to God I had no cause to think it might not put
your Highness into peril of losing England.”[458]
Even Burghley, with all his influence, was in despair at getting the
Queen to spend any money. Walsingham had told the Queen that if she lent
Alençon 100,000 ducats secretly he might be appeased. Burghley pointed
out to her that her niggardliness was ruining the chance of effectually
weakening Spain. “In no wise,” writes Burghley, “would she have the
enterprise of the Low Countries lost, but she will not particularly
warrant you to offer aid. She allegeth that now the King (of France)
hath gone so far he will not abandon it.… Her Majesty is also very
cold in the cause of Don Antonio, alleging that she liketh it only by
opportunity [importunity?] of her Council; and now that all things are
ready, ships, victuals, and men, the charges whereof come to £12,000, she
hath been moved to find £2000 more needful for the full furniture of the
voyage, wherewith she is greatly offended with Mr. Hawkins and Drake,
as the charges are greater than was said to her … hereupon her Majesty
is content not to give a penny more; and now after Drake and Hawkins
have made shift for the £2000, she will not let them depart until she be
assured by you that the French will aid Don Antonio, for she feareth to
be left alone.… All these things do marvellously stay her Majesty … yet
she loseth all the charges spent in vain, and the poor King (Antonio) is
utterly lost.”[459]
But Burghley might reason and remonstrate, Walsingham might tell her, as
he did, that the penuriousness would bring her to ruin, Elizabeth would
not open her purse strings until it was almost too late. Alençon had made
a dash into Flanders soon after seeing Walsingham in August, and relieved
Cambray, and then being absolutely penniless, his brother, in a fright at
his boldness, refusing any aid, the Queen was obliged to send him £20,000
to prevent the abandonment of the whole business, and a union with the
Guises which he threatened. He returned to France after a few weeks, and
then again announced his intention of coming to England to exert his
personal influence on the Queen. To stave off the visit several other
sums of money were sent to him. Leicester, too, strove his hardest to
stop it; but Alençon’s agents and Alençon’s lovelorn epistles were more
flattering to the Queen even than Leicester, and the lover came early in
November.
Although Walsingham had almost arranged a draft treaty of alliance
without marriage when he was in Paris, it fell through on the eternal
question of the Queen’s “charges” and responsibility, and when Alençon
arrived in England the whole matter was as far from settlement as
ever. Of the extraordinary cajolery by which the Queen alternately
raised Alençon to the pinnacle of hope and plunged him to the depths
of despair during his stay with her at Richmond and Whitehall, a full
description will be found elsewhere.[460] By her dexterity she bound
him personally to her, and made it appear that the only obstacles to
the match were those raised by the King of France. From the coming of
Alençon it is clear that Leicester alone understood the Queen’s game.
The earl was radiant and joyous, which made Sussex distrust the result,
notwithstanding appearances. So far as he could Lord Burghley held aloof,
although when the Prince came to London he waited upon him with other
Councillors formally every morning at nine. When the famous scene was
enacted (22nd November) in the gallery at Whitehall, where the Queen
boldly kissed her suitor on the lips and publicly pledged herself to
marry him,[461] Burghley was confined to his bed with an attack of gout.
The Queen sent him an account of what had passed. Mendoza reports that he
thereupon exclaimed, “Blessed be the Lord that this business has at last
reached a point where the Queen, on her part, has done all she can; it is
for the country now alone to carry it out.” The deduction which Mendoza
drew from this exclamation was probably the correct one. To him it proved
that the whole plan was insincere on the part of Elizabeth, and that the
intention was to cause conditions to be imposed by Parliament which the
King of France could not accept, and then to throw the responsibility of
the breach upon the latter.
This was all very well, but it was a reverse for Burghley’s policy.
Leicester and Walsingham had drawn the Queen into a position of almost
open hostility to Spain; and yet a close union with France was rendered
difficult by Elizabeth’s fickleness and dread of responsibility, and by
Leicester’s jealousy. As usual in such circumstances, Burghley cautiously
endeavoured to redress the balance. When the treaty with France seemed
assured, Mendoza had been refused audience, and on remonstrating with
Burghley he had found him far less willing to be friendly than before.
Leicester quite openly talked about turning the Spanish Ambassador out of
England, and even Burghley had replied, to an application for audience
on behalf of Mendoza to deliver a letter from Philip to the Queen, who
was at Nonsuch, that the Queen was alone and unattended by Councillors,
“and as Don Bernardino is to bring letters to the Queen from so great an
enemy to her as his master, it is meet that he should be received as the
minister of such a one.” When the Spaniard did see the Queen (October),
his threats and complaints about Don Antonio and Alençon were met with
anger and indignation by her. All the old complaints on both sides were
repeated, and both then and later Mendoza was certain by the attitude of
Leicester, Hatton, and Walsingham, that they were determined to have war
with Spain, and that Burghley, for once, would not stand in their way.
But a change came in the attitude of the latter in December. It seemed
then impossible for the Queen to withdraw her pledges to Alençon without
a breach with France, whilst she could hardly help him without a war
with Spain. Scottish affairs, moreover, were a subject of deep anxiety.
D’Aubigny was now master, and Morton, to Elizabeth’s indignation, had
been executed. Catholic priests and Jesuits were known to be flitting
backwards and forwards; and worst of all, Mary Stuart had, for the
first time since her flight, opened up friendly negotiations with her
son’s Government, and had formally joined James with herself in her
sovereignty. She had moreover written confidently asking for many fresh
concessions which Elizabeth was loath to grant her.[462]
Any appearance of an approach of the French and Scots always drew England
and Spain together, and with the added dangers already cited, this was
quite sufficient to change Lord Burghley’s tone. Mendoza accordingly
reports (25th December 1581) that, at a meeting of the Council held to
consider the situation, Burghley suggested that an alliance should be
made with Spain, and an agreement arrived at with regard to the Low
Countries. This was approved of by the Lord Chancellor (Bromley), the
Lord Admiral (Lincoln), and Crofts. Sussex held aloof, wavering between
his enmity to France and Leicester, and his attachment to Protestantism;
whilst Leicester, Walsingham, Hatton, and Knollys were strenuously
opposed to any approach to Spain, as they were, even more violently, to
Burghley’s proposal that Drake’s plunder, or what was left of it, should
be restored. A few days afterwards Burghley had some business with a
Spanish merchant established in London, and to him he expressed a desire
that negotiations should be opened for an agreement between the two
countries. When the merchant carried the message to Mendoza, the latter
attributed the suggestion entirely to the fear which he had aroused by
his firmness, and he made no response. Mendoza himself, indeed, one of
the warlike Alba school, had now no hope or desire for peace. The rise of
D’Aubigny in Scotland and the coming of the Jesuits had quite altered the
position during the last year, and Mendoza had in his hands a plot that
seemed to promise the triumph of the Catholics.
As early as April 1581, Mary Stuart had renewed her approaches to Spain
through the Archbishop of Glasgow in Paris. “Things were now,” she
said, “better disposed than ever in Scotland for a return to its former
condition … and English affairs could be dealt with subsequently. The
King, her son, was quite determined to return to the Catholic religion,
and much inclined to an open rupture with the Queen of England.” She
begged for armed aid from Philip, to be landed first in Ireland, and to
enter Scotland at a given signal after the alliance between Scotland
and Spain had been signed. Nothing came of this at the time; and after
several other attempts on the part of Mary to get into touch with the
Spaniards, she became distrustful of her Ambassador (Archbishop Beton)
and other intermediaries, and contrived in November to communicate with
Mendoza direct. She had heard that all the priests who flocked into
Scotland and England looked to him for guidance, and that through them
he had sent a message to the Scottish Catholics, saying that everything
now depended upon Scotland’s reverting to the old faith. The English
Catholic nobles then at liberty had, at Mendoza’s instance, formed a
society with this object, and secretly sent two priests to sound James
and D’Aubigny, and to promise that they would raise the north of England,
release Mary, and secure the English succession to James. They brought
back a favourable reply, which the ambassador at once conveyed to Allen
and Persons on the continent. This was late in the autumn of 1581, and
Mendoza looked coldly upon Burghley’s new advances, for he was now the
centre of the plot to overthrow Elizabeth by means of the Scottish
Catholics, a plot in which, against his will, he was obliged to make
use of the Jesuit missionaries, who themselves at first had no idea of
the Spanish political aims that underlay the conversion of Scotland to
Catholicism.
Side by side with the Jesuits, Creighton, Persons, and Holt, who were
employed in the political movement, were others who had been sent to
England and were intended purely for spiritual work. They had been
extremely successful in their propaganda, and had once more infused
spirit into the English Catholic party. This could not be done without
the printing and dissemination of books, as well as preaching, and the
spies of the Council were directed to track to earth the priests who were
at the bottom of the movement. Nearly every writer upon the subject has
taken for granted that Lord Burghley was at the bottom of the persecution
which followed. Such, however, does not appear to have been the case. As
we have seen, the Lord Treasurer insisted upon some uniformity in the
practice of the Anglican Church, but he must have known that many of his
closest friends, and the colleagues upon whom he depended in the Council,
were Catholics, and his lifelong tendency was to a political union
with Spain, the champion of Catholic Christendom. He was determined,
it is true, to crush treason to the Queen and the institutions of the
country, no matter who suffered; and when Catholicism meant revolution he
harried it fiercely; but he was no persecutor for the sake of religion
itself,[463] and the cruel torture and execution of Campion, Sherwin,
and Briant,[464] during Alençon’s visit to England (1st December 1581),
for denying the Queen’s supremacy, were almost certainly prompted in the
main by Walsingham, Knollys, and the Puritans, who were in a fever of
apprehension lest the marriage with Alençon would lead to toleration of
the Catholic faith. The men actually executed were not in fact employed
in the political portion of the propaganda at all, but were honest
religious missionaries; but they, and the scores of other Catholics
who were swept into prison at the time, were useful object lessons for
Walsingham and Leicester, whose aims, as we have seen, were in direct
opposition to those of Burghley.[465] The latter, indeed, was at the
very time of the execution approaching Mendoza with suggestions for an
alliance with Spain, which were coldly received for the reasons already
explained.
During Alençon’s stay in England, the Queen, who was playing her own
game, which was to reduce the Prince to utter dependence upon her and to
distrust of his brother, had been constantly thwarted by the jealousy
of Leicester and Hatton. They were for granting enormous sums to the
suitor to get rid of him at any cost, which was no part of the Queen’s
plan. Lord Burghley alone of the Councillors never displeased her in the
matter; whenever it was a question of large expenditure, he always had
a convenient attack of gout, and thus never openly thwarted the Queen.
The difficulty was to get Alençon out of the country without ruinous
expense or further pledges, and when it was found that all the Queen’s
persuasions were unavailing she had to employ Burghley’s diplomacy.
He began by inflaming the young Prince’s ambition, and enlarging upon
the splendid destiny awaiting him in his new sovereignty, which was
now clamouring for his presence. Promises were made never meant to be
literally fulfilled, of the vast sums the Queen would contribute to his
support, and at last, after infinite trouble, he was induced to promise
to sail for Flanders. He wished to stay until the new year; but when
Burghley pointed out to him the large amount of money he would have to
spend in presents he seemed to give way, for money he had none. But when
the time came he still stayed on. The Queen told Burghley after supper
on Christmas night that she would not marry the lad to be empress of the
world, and that he must get rid of him somehow. Catharine de Medici,
the Prince of Orange, the German princes, and the French Ambassador all
added their pressure to that of the Queen and Burghley to get Alençon
out of England. Leicester and Hatton fumed and threatened. Burghley at
last frankly told the Queen that the only way to get rid of her suitor
was to provide a sum of ready money for him, and promise that he should
come back to England as soon as he was crowned. The Queen did not like
the alternative, and said she must wait for the King of France’s answer
to her last demands. This time Catharine de Medici beat her with her own
weapons. The answer was a full acceptance of everything required by the
English; and to make it more complete, Alençon said he was willing to
become a Protestant.
This was indeed alarming, and the Queen sent hurriedly to Burghley to
get her out of the scrape. His suggestion this time was that she should
demand Calais and Havre as security for the fulfilment of the King’s
promises, which was a device after her own heart. But still Alençon
would not go, and the Queen became seriously alarmed. She promised him
£60,000; but Burghley was opposed to any such sum as that being paid, or
indeed more than was necessary for the Prince’s voyage. The Queen said
that she did not mean to pay it, but only to promise it, which was quite
another matter. It is evident that Burghley was now quite undeceived,
and against both the pretence of marriage and any large support being
given to Alençon. He dreaded the revenge of France for the insult put
upon it; and of Spain, for aiding the Frenchman’s usurpation of Philip’s
sovereignty under English protection. His remedy, as usual, was a
friendship with Spain. Walsingham, on the other hand, was all in favour
of vigorous help to Orange and a war with Spain. The Queen usually leant
to the side of Burghley, but was swayed hither and thither by her fears
of France, by Pinart’s threats, Alençon’s tears, Leicester’s jealousy,
and her own greed and vanity.
At last after infinite trouble Alençon sailed with fifteen ships,
attended by Leicester (sorely against his will), Hunsdon, Sidney,
Willoughby, Howard, and Norris, to take upon himself the sovereignty of
Holland and Flanders. The Queen after all had to provide a large sum
of money, but it was sent to the States, and not entrusted to Alençon,
except a personal present of £25,000 from the Queen. Leicester escaped
from the new sovereign’s side on the very day he was crowned, and hurried
back to his mistress’s side. He reported that Alençon and the French were
hated by the Protestant Dutchmen, who had only admitted him because the
Queen of England was behind him. The English Ambassador in Paris at the
same time sent word that Henry III. had repudiated his brother’s action,
and had denounced as traitors all those who aided him.
This was exactly what Elizabeth feared. She had offended both the great
powers, and was alone. She swore at Leicester for sanctioning, by his
presence, the investiture of Alençon; she railed at Walsingham as a knave
for dragging her into such a business; and she insisted upon Burghley,
who was ill with fever in London, getting up and coming to Windsor to
tell her what to do. When he appeared, she asked him whether it would
not be better for her at once to become friendly with Spain. Thus, though
the sagacious Lord Treasurer had let her go her own way, she had at last
been brought by circumstances to propose his policy again. “He replied
that nothing would suit her better, especially if peace could be arranged
in the Netherlands by the concession of liberty of conscience.”[466]
Sussex was of the same opinion, but distrusted both the Queen and
Burghley, who, he said, had spoken coolly on the subject on the Council.
There is, however, no reason to doubt that the Treasurer was sincere in
his desire for such an arrangement, which indeed was the only one which
seemed to promise peace to England.
In the meanwhile the Spanish and Jesuit plot in Scotland was progressing.
Guise had drifted further and further away from Henry III. and his
mother, from whom he saw he could get no aid for Mary Stuart or his
own ambitious plans. When, therefore, the Queen of Scots had offered
her submission and the sending of her son to Spain, he had separated
himself from French interests, and tendered his own humble services
to Philip. This made all the difference. If the Holy League and this
undertaking made the Guises Catholics and Spaniards before they were
Frenchmen, Philip need have no hesitation in helping their niece to the
crowns of Scotland and England; and the Jesuits were set to work to
secure James and D’Aubigny, whilst Mary Stuart’s spirits rose high. The
Scottish Catholic nobles were ready to rise, and even, if necessary, to
kill or deport the King if he would not be a Catholic. All they asked
was a force of two thousand foreign troops. D’Aubigny entered eagerly
into the affair, and by the spring of 1582 all was arranged, when the
Jesuit emissaries and D’Aubigny between them mismanaged it. Guise was
foolishly brought into the plan by D’Aubigny, and he wanted to invade
the south of England with his troops at the same time. D’Aubigny made
exaggerated claims for himself, and the Scottish Catholic nobles followed
suit. Philip recognised that Guise was still playing for his own hand,
though not for France. If Mary was to be Queen of Great Britain and his
humble servant, she must owe her crown to him, and not to Guise. Philip
therefore grew cool, and the raid of Ruthven and the banishment of
D’Aubigny, by which young James fell into the hands of the Protestants
(August 1582), effectually put an end to the projects of invasion for a
time.
On the 18th March 1582, Alençon in Antwerp was giving an entertainment
on the occasion of his birthday, when the Prince of Orange was stabbed,
it was thought mortally, by a young Spaniard hired by those greater than
himself. The one cry, both in Holland and in England, was, that Alençon
and his false Frenchmen were at the bottom of the crime, and, but for the
fortitude of Orange, every Frenchman in the Netherlands would have been
massacred. Elizabeth was beside herself with fear. Her first impulse was
to get Alençon out of Flanders, even if she brought him to England; but
Walsingham gravely warned her that if the Prince came again she would
certainly have to marry him.
Whilst Orange lay between life and death, Leicester, Hatton, Knollys,
and Walsingham were for ever urging the Queen boldly to take Flanders
and Holland under her own protection, whilst Burghley, aided by Sussex
and Crofts, again advocated an arrangement with Spain. But the latter
were in a minority; the Protestant feeling of the country was thoroughly
aroused at the attempted murder of Orange, and Burghley was obliged to
be cautious. Mendoza was instructed by Philip, March 1582, to use his
influence with the Council to prevent aid being given to Alençon. “I
have,” writes Mendoza, “tried every artifice to get on good terms with
some of them, but they all turn their faces against me, particularly
the Lord Treasurer, whom I formerly used to see, the rest of them being
openly inimical. Only lately I sought an opportunity of approaching him
again, and asked him to see me. He replied that his colleagues looked
upon him as being very Spanish in his sympathies, and therefore he could
not venture to see me alone, except by the Queen’s orders. I had, he
said, better communicate my business through Secretary Walsingham, in the
ordinary course.”[467]
Walsingham, on the other hand, lost no opportunity of widening the
breach, in order to force the Queen to more vigorous action in favour of
the Dutch Protestants. In May he sent an insulting message to Mendoza, to
the effect that the Queen would not receive him until some satisfaction
was given about Ireland. The Ambassador at once complained to Burghley.
War, he said, might well result from this treatment of him. Burghley
endeavoured to minimise the slight. It was a mistake of the messenger,
he said, and Mendoza had better write to the Queen. He did so, but with
no result but to confirm Walsingham’s message, though Elizabeth softened
it somewhat by saying, “God forbid that she should ever break with your
Majesty, to whom she bore nothing but good-will.”[468] When, in July,
Alençon demanded more money, Walsingham, Leicester, and Hatton were for
sending him £50,000 at once—anything to prevent his coming to England
again—but Cecil opposed it vigorously. There was but £80,000 in the
Treasury, he said, and so only £30,000 was sent to Flanders.
By the death of Bacon, the fatal illness of Sussex, and the defection
of Hatton, Lord Burghley was at this time almost alone in the Council;
for Crofts, the Controller, a regular pensioner of Spain and a Catholic,
was a man of no influence; and, according to Mendoza, the Lord Treasurer
in November told the Queen plainly that she must appoint two more
Councillors of his way of thinking, “to oppose Leicester and his gang.”
It was probably in pursuance of this policy that Burghley cast about for
some counterbalancing influence to be used against Leicester.
At the end of 1581 a young captain named Walter Ralegh, whose company in
Ireland had been disbanded on the suppression of the Desmond rebellion,
had been sent over to England with despatches. He was clever and
brilliant, and full of schemes for governing Ireland more cheaply than
the Viceroy, Lord Grey, had done. Grey rebuked him for his presumption,
and sent him home in semi-disgrace. Leicester was a bitter enemy of
Grey’s, and was glad to welcome the young captain who impeached his
government, and that of Leicester’s rival Ormond.[469] Ralegh was
invited to the Council-table to explain his plans to Lord Burghley. His
recommendations were approved, and submitted to the Queen, who gave him
audience. Before many weeks passed (May 1582), favours began to shower
upon him; and by the autumn, Leicester and Hatton had taken fright, and
were bitterly jealous of him, whilst the Lord Treasurer had cleverly
enlisted the new favourite under his banner. He was never a member of the
Council, but he had the Queen’s ear, and kept it for years; for Leicester
was elderly and scorbutic, and Hatton was an affected fribble, whilst
Ralegh was young, handsome, and manly, and as wise as he was ambitious.
During the autumn of 1582 the plague raged in London, and Burghley took
refuge at Theobalds, where, in November, his recently married young
son-in-law, the eldest son of Lord Wentworth died. The letters written
on this occasion from Walsingham[470] and Hatton[471] prove that the
political opposition in the Council did not degenerate into personal
enmity; indeed, nothing is more remarkable than the affectionate regard,
and even reverence, which are constantly expressed by Lord Burghley’s
correspondents towards him. An especially kind thought seems to have
occurred to Walsingham. He suggests to Hatton that “it would be some
comfort to his lady (_i.e._ Elizabeth Wentworth), if it might please you
so to work with her Majesty, as his (Burghley’s) other son-in-law (Lord
Oxford), who hath long dwelt in her Majesty’s displeasure, might be
restored to her Highness’s good favour.”[472]
The Earl of Oxford had constantly been a source of trouble to Lord
Burghley. He was extravagant, eccentric, and quarrelsome, and only by
the exercise of great forbearance on the part of his father-in-law had
any semblance of friendship been kept up. If on this occasion, as is
probable, Hatton acceded to Walsingham’s suggestion, and persuaded the
Queen once more to receive Oxford at court, it was not long before the
intractable Earl again misbehaved himself; for on May of the following
year (1583) his long-suffering father-in-law appealed to the new
favourite, Ralegh, to exert his influence with the Queen to forgive him
again. Ralegh’s answer,[473] giving a long account of his efforts to move
the Queen, shows that Oxford had injured him also. “I am content,” he
writes, “for your sake to lay the serpent before the fire, as much as in
me lieth, that having recovered strength, myself may be most in danger of
his poison and sting.”
As we have seen, Mary Stuart had never ceased, since the triumph of
D’Aubigny, to negotiate through Mendoza for her release and restoration,
and the subsequent invasion of England over the Scottish Border. The raid
of Ruthven and the fall of D’Aubigny did not at first discourage her.
She still believed that the expected arrival of foreign troops, and her
son’s secret favour of the Catholics, would enable the plot to be carried
through,[474] and under this belief it was that she wrote her violent
letter of denunciation and complaint to Elizabeth (8th November).[475]
Almost simultaneously with the receipt of this letter in London there
arrived the Guisan, La Mothe Fénélon, on his way to Scotland, for the
purpose of inquiring into the treatment of D’Aubigny by the Protestant
lords, uniting Mary and her son on the throne, and, if possible, to
mediate with Elizabeth in favour of the captive Queen; whilst, at the
same time, another envoy (De Maineville) was sent by sea with secret
instructions to plan a fresh rising of the Catholic nobles in union
with James. Castelnau, the regular Ambassador, might protest untruly
to Elizabeth, as he did, that it was “une chose du tout contraire à la
verité de dire que le Sieur De Maineville eut une seconde et particulière
secrete instruction;” but the embassy was quite terrifying enough to
Elizabeth, coming after the plots that she knew had been hatching between
the Spaniards, the Jesuits, and D’Aubigny. Walsingham hurried from his
country house to court the moment he heard of La Mothe Fénélon’s arrival,
for all the official French plans for helping James and D’Aubigny had
purposely been allowed to leak out. We know now that they were merely
a trick of the Queen-mother’s to frighten Elizabeth into helping poor
Alençon in the Netherlands, the only really serious part of them being
De Maineville’s secret mission, which depended entirely upon Guise.[476]
The Queen kept La Mothe dallying for weeks before she would give him a
passport, whilst she tried to dazzle him anew with the talk of marrying
Alençon and supporting him in Flanders. Before he left for Scotland,
D’Aubigny had passed through London on his way to France, where he died
shortly afterwards; and when La Mothe proceeded on his mission it was
already too late, if ever it was intended to be effectual.
It is one of the standing reproaches to Lord Burghley’s memory that he
was the constant enemy of Mary. In former chapters I have shown that
this was not the case. That he was inflexible in tracing and punishing
treason against his mistress and her Government is obvious, for it was
his first duty as a minister; but how far he was from any personal enmity
against the unfortunate Mary, may be seen in his many letters to Lord
Shrewsbury at Hatfield and elsewhere. On the receipt of Mary’s imprudent
letter to the Queen and the arrival of La Mothe in England, a Council was
called to consider the removal of the Queen of Scots from the care of
Shrewsbury. Mendoza says that “the Treasurer was greatly opposed to her
being removed from the Earl’s house, where she had remained for fifteen
years, especially as Shrewsbury had not failed fully to carry out his
instructions. He said her removal would scandalise the country.”[477]
Burghley’s relative William Davison, in conjunction with Robert Bowes,
was sent to Scotland at the same the time as La Mothe, to dissuade
James from acceding to French suggestion of associating his mother with
himself in his sovereignty; and Walsingham’s brother-in-law, Beale, was
deputed to proceed to Sheffield for the purpose of negotiating with
Mary with regard to her future.[478] Mary from the first had seen that
the interference of Henry III. and his mother was a feint in favour of
Alençon, and sent Fontenay to Mendoza whilst Beale was with her, to
ask for his guidance in the negotiation.[479] Elizabeth had secretly
authorised Beale, under certain circumstances, to offer Mary her release.
This, Mendoza understood, was unfavourable to Spanish ends, because she
would almost infallibly fall in such case into the hands of the French,
or be compelled, if she stayed in England, to make such renunciations
and compromises as would render her useless as an instrument with which
to raise the Catholics. The Spaniard therefore naturally advised her to
stay where she was, and the unhappy woman followed his interested advice.
She gave Beale a somewhat unyielding answer, and her last chance of
liberation fled.[480]
In the meanwhile Alençon continued to clamour for money, and repeated his
vows of everlasting love and slavish submission; anything if Elizabeth
would only send money to save him from becoming the laughing-stock of
Europe. The Protestant Dutchmen were tired of him; Orange saw that he
was a useless burden, and prayed Elizabeth to take her bad bargain back
again. Seeing that he could expect but little from England, he obtained
the help of his mother. Marshal Biron crossed the frontier into Flanders,
and in January 1583 the false Valois endeavoured to seize and garrison
with Frenchmen the strong places of the Netherlands. The affair failed,
and Alençon fled from Antwerp detested and distrusted. The States
disowned him, and Norris, the English general, refused to obey him; and
though Elizabeth pretended to be angry with Sir John Norris and the
Englishmen, she thought better of it when Alençon asked her to withdraw
them and let his Frenchmen deal with the Flemings, for it was now clear
that she could never trust him in Flanders alone.
With the invidious position into which Elizabeth’s tortuous policy had
led her; almost hopeless as she was now of conciliating Spain, and
conscious of having insulted France beyond forgiveness by her treatment
of Alençon; with Orange discontented, and Scotland in a ferment, it is
not strange that division existed in the Queen’s counsels. Burghley
himself at this time was tired of the struggle. The fresh Councillors
had not been appointed, and he had to contend with infinite diplomacy
for every point that he carried. The general tendency of the Queen’s
policy was opposed to his view of what was wise; he was now old and
almost constantly ill, and either the Queen’s obduracy with regard to his
unworthy son-in-law Oxford, or the opposition he constantly met with,
led him to seek release from his offices, and to desire to pass the rest
of his life in retirement. His complaint would rather seem to have been
against the Queen herself, to judge from her very curious letter turning
his desire to ridicule. On the 8th May 1583 she wrote:—
“Sir Spirit,[481] I doubt I do nickname you, for those of your
kind, they say, have no sense. But I have of late seen an
‘_Ecce Signum_,’ that if an ass kick you, you feel it so soon.
I will recant you from being a spirit if ever I perceive you
disdain not such a feeling. Serve God, fear the King, and be
a good fellow to the rest. Let never care appear in you for
such a rumour; but let them well know that you rather desire
the righting of such a wrong by making known their error, than
you be so silly a soul as to foreslow that you ought to do, or
not freely deliver what you think meetest, and pass of no man
so much, as not to regard her trust who putteth it in you. God
bless you, and long may you last _omnino_.
“E. R.”[482]
The duplicity of the young King of Scots and the intrigues of the Guisan
envoy were successful in June in withdrawing James from the power of the
lords of the English faction, and once more the Scottish Catholics held
up their heads.[483] Thus encouraged, Mary at once informed Elizabeth
that the conditional promises she had made to Beale and Mildmay in the
negotiations for her release, were to be considered void unless she were
at once liberated,[484] her attitude being no doubt to some extent the
result of the strenuous efforts of the Spaniards through Mendoza to keep
her in England, and to prevent her from entering into any compromise as
to religion.
This new phase of affairs profoundly disquieted Elizabeth.[485] Her
Ambassador in France, Henry Cobham, continued to send alarming news of
Guise’s designs,[486] and it is certain that Walsingham, at all events,
was aware of the constant communications between Mary and Mendoza. It
was therefore decided to send Walsingham himself to Edinburgh, to obtain
from James some assurance that English interests should not suffer by
his change of ministers, and to offer him a subsidy in consideration
of his acceptance of the terms proposed by Elizabeth. That the mission
was an unwelcome one to Walsingham, who foresaw its failure, is proved
by Mendoza’s statement (19th August): “He strenuously refused to go,
and went so far as to throw himself at the Queen’s feet, and pronounce
the following terrible blasphemy: he swore by the soul, body, and
blood of God, that he would not go to Scotland, even if she ordered
him to be hanged for it, as he would rather be hanged in England than
elsewhere.… Walsingham says that he saw that no good could come of the
mission, and that the Queen would lay upon his shoulders the whole of
the responsibility for the evils that would occur. He said she was very
stingy already, and the Scots more greedy than ever, quite disillusioned
now as to the promises made to them; so that it was impossible that any
good should be done.”[487] But Walsingham went nevertheless, and came
home safely, though, as he foretold, his embassy was fruitless, for the
Catholics had entirely captured James.
Alençon, in despair of obtaining sufficient help from Elizabeth, now
that he had shown his falseness, had retired to France, leaving his
forces under Marshal Biron. Lovelorn epistles and frantic protestations
continued to pass between him and Elizabeth; but it was acknowledged now
that his cause was hopeless, and he fell henceforward entirely under the
influence of his mother. The States and Orange again and again urged
Elizabeth to take the provinces into her own hands and carry on the war
openly. Leicester, Walsingham, Bedford, Knollys, and the Puritans urged
her seriously to do so; but she refused on the advice of Burghley, “who
told her that she had not sufficient strength to struggle with your
Majesty, particularly with so small a contribution as that offered by the
States. Leicester and the rest of them are trying to persuade her to send
five or six thousand men thither.”[488]
Events were irresistibly nearing a crisis which made it necessary for
Elizabeth to take an open course on one side or the other; and Lord
Burghley had again been overborne by the zealous Protestants in the
Council until a breach with Spain had become unavoidable sooner or later.
Walsingham had never lost touch of Mary Stuart’s proceedings,[489]
or of her French cousin’s various plans for the murder of Elizabeth,
and the invasion of England. Guise had submitted to Philip in 1583 a
regular proposal for the Queen’s assassination, and in the autumn had
sent his pensioner Charles Paget (Mopo) to England to negotiate for the
rising of the English Catholics. One of the results of this was that
young Francis Throgmorton, a correspondent of Mary Stuart, and one of
her intermediaries with Mendoza, was arrested with others and charged
with a plot to assassinate the Queen. How far this accusation was true
it is at this moment difficult to say, but there is no doubt that the
Throgmortons, with the Earl of Northumberland, who was imprisoned, Lord
Paget, who fled, and many other Catholics, were in league with Charles
Paget for a rising, in conjunction with Guise.
It is to be noted that Lord Burghley took no part in the prosecution of
Throgmorton, which was mainly forwarded by Leicester, who was always
suspected of having poisoned Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, the uncle of the
accused man. The apprehension of the conspirators and the consequent
expulsion of Mendoza (January 1584) certainly served the purposes of the
strong Protestant majority led by Leicester[490] and Walsingham in the
Council, and aided them in forcing the hands of the Queen and Burghley.
The death of Alençon in June, and the murder of Orange by an agent of
the Spaniards in July, still further acted in the same direction. It was
no longer possible for England to hold a non-committal position. Either
Spain must be permitted to crush Protestantism in the Netherlands, or the
head of the Protestant confederacy must cast aside the mask and boldly
fight the Catholic powers. There were reasons why this course might now
be taken with much more safety than previously. The Queen-mother of
France was frantic with rage against Spain for the loss of her favourite
son. The King was childless, and the Guises were already plotting to
grasp the crown, or partition France on Henry’s death, rather than he
should be succeeded by the Huguenot Henry of Navarre. Elizabeth had
therefore the certainty, for the first time since her accession, that
France nationally would not coalesce with Spain against her, and that
any attempt of Guise to injure her would be counteracted by Catharine,
Navarre and the Huguenots.
The question of the future policy to be pursued by England under
the changed circumstances was, as usual, submitted to the judicial
examination of Lord Burghley, whose minutes[491] set forth the whole
case _pro_ and _contra_. The question propounded was, “Shall the Queen
defend and help the Low Countries to recover from the tyranny of Spain
and the Inquisition; and if not, what shall she do to protect England
when he shall have subdued Holland?” After stating the advantages and
disadvantages of each course, it is evident that the judgment is in
favour of aiding the States, on certain conditions of security, which
Burghley himself notes in the margin. The aid is to cost as little as
possible; some of the best noblemen of Zeeland are to be held as hostages
in the hands of the English; the chief military commands to be held
by English officers; the King of Scots to be secured to the English
interest; the King of Navarre to embarrass Spain on her frontiers, and
a Parliament to be called in England for the purpose of sanctioning the
course proposed. But, continues the document, if it is decided that
England shall not help the States, then she must be put into a condition
of defence, the navy increased, a large sum of money collected, some
German mercenaries engaged to watch the Scottish Border, and the English
Catholics “put in surety.” “Finally, that ought to be Alpha and Omega,
to cause her people to be better taught to serve God, and to see justice
duly administered, whereby they may serve God, and love her Majesty; and
that if it may be concluded, _Si Deus nobiscum, quis contra nos?_”
Lord Burghley was thus, after a quarter of a century of striving to keep
on friendly relations with Spain, forced by the policy of Leicester,
Walsingham, and the strong Protestants, into the contest which he
had hoped to avoid. Circumstances had been stronger than individual
predilections, and Mary Stuart’s ceaseless designs against the crown and
faith of England, and especially her submission to Spain, had given the
Protestant party an impetus which swept aside the cautious moderation of
Burghley’s policy, and proved even to him the necessity for war.