The Spanish policy with regard to the Austrian match--English
suitors for the Queen’s hand--Arundel and Pickering--Philip
II.--The Archduke Ferdinand--Lord Robert Dudley--The Prince
of Sweden--Philip’s attitude towards the Austrian match--
The Archduke Charles--Pickering and Dudley--The Earl of
Arran--Dudley’s intrigues against the Archduke Charles’ suit
--Death of Lady Robert Dudley--Prince Eric again.
In the same ship that brought Arundel from Flanders came that cunning
old Bishop of Aquila, who was afterwards Philip’s ambassador in
England. He conveyed to Feria the King’s real wishes with regard to
Elizabeth’s marriage, which were somewhat at variance with those which
appeared on the surface. Philip had now definitely taken upon himself
the championship of the Catholic supremacy, and his interests were
hourly drifting further away from those of his Austrian kinsmen, who
were largely dependent upon the reforming German princes. This was the
principal reason why Sussex and other moderate Protestants in England
were promoting an Austrian marriage which, it was assumed, would
conciliate Philip without binding England to the ultra-Catholic party.
The Bishop’s instructions were to throw cold water on the scheme whilst
outwardly appearing to favour it, but if he saw that such a marriage
was inevitable, then he was to get the whole credit of it for his
master, who was to subsidise his impecunious cousin, the Archduke, and
make him the instrument of Spain. Feria confessed himself puzzled. If
he was not to forward the Archduke Ferdinand, he did not know, he said,
whom he could suggest. Everybody kept him at arm’s length and he could
only repeat current gossip. Some people thought the Earl of Arundel
would be the man, others the Earl of Westmoreland; then Lord Howard’s
son, and then Sir William Pickering; “every day there is a new cry
raised about a husband.” “At present,” he said, “I see no disposition
to enter into the discussion of any proposal on your Majesty’s own
behalf, either on her part or that of the Council, and when it has to
be approached it should be mentioned first to her alone.” The first
step, he thought, should be to arouse the jealousy of each individual
councillor of the Queen’s marriage with any Englishman; and at the
same time to work upon the Queen’s pride by hinting that she would
hardly stoop to a marriage inferior to that of her sister. He thought,
however, that a marriage with Philip would scarcely be acceptable, as
he could not live in England, and Feria was still in hope that if they
took any foreigner the Archduke Ferdinand would be the man. Feria’s
plan of campaign was an ingenious one. After he had aroused Elizabeth’s
jealousy of her dead sister and deprecated the idea of the degradation
to the Queen of a marriage with a subject, “we can take those whom
she might marry here and pick them to pieces one by one, which will
not require much rhetoric, for there is not a man amongst them worth
anything, counting the married ones and all. If, after this, she
inclines to your Majesty, it will be necessary for you to send me
orders whether I am to carry it any further or throw cold water on it
and set up the Archduke Ferdinand, for I see no other person we can
propose to whom she would agree.”[16]
Philip had sent to the Queen a present of jewels by the Bishop of
Aquila, with which she was delighted, and assured Feria that those who
said her sympathies were French told an untruth. She was indeed quite
coquettish with him sometimes, but he felt that he was outwitted. He
could get no information as he did in the last reign. The councillors
fought shy of him, anxious as ever for bribes and pensions, but willing
to give no return for them, for the very good reason that they had
nothing to give, they being as hopelessly in the dark as every one else
as to the Queen’s intentions. “Indeed I am afraid that one fine day
we shall find this woman married, and I shall be the last man in the
place to know anything about it,” said Feria. In the meanwhile Arundel
was ruining himself with ostentatious expenditure; borrowing vast sums
of money from Italian bankers and scattering gifts of jewels of great
value amongst the ladies who surrounded the Queen. He was a man far
into middle age at the time, with two married daughters, the Duchess
of Norfolk and Lady Lumley, and was in antiquity of descent the first
of English nobles; but one can imagine how the keen young woman on
the throne must have smiled inwardly at the idea of the empty-headed,
flighty old fop, aspiring to be her partner. “There is a great deal
of talk also,” writes Feria, “lately about the Queen marrying the
Duke Adolphus, brother of the King of Denmark. One of the principal
recommendations they find in him is that he is a heretic, but I am
persuading them that he is a very good Catholic and not so comely as
they make him out to be, as I do not think he would suit us.” At last,
after the usual tedious deliberation, the prayers and invocations for
Divine guidance, Philip made up his mind that he, like another Metius
Curtius, would save his cause by sacrificing himself. He approached
the subject in a true spirit of martyrdom. Feria had been repeating
constantly--almost offensively--how unpopular he was in England,
ever since Mary died. He had, he was told, not a man in his favour,
he was distrusted and disliked, and so on, but yet he so completely
deceived himself with regard to the support to be obtained by Elizabeth
from her people through her national policy and personal popularity,
as to write to Feria announcing his gracious intention of sacrificing
himself for the good of the Catholic Church and marrying the Queen of
England on condition of her becoming a Catholic and obtaining secret
absolution from the Pope. “In this way it will be evident and manifest
that I am serving the Lord in marrying her and that she has been
converted by my act.... You will, however, not propose any conditions
until you see how the Queen is disposed towards the matter itself,
and mark well that you must commence to broach the subject with the
Queen alone, as she has already opened a way to such an approach.”
It must have been evident to Feria at this time (January, 1559) that
the Queen could not marry his master without losing her crown. The
Protestant party were now paramount, the reformers had flocked back
from Switzerland and Germany, and Elizabeth had cast in her lot with
them. To acknowledge the Pope’s power of absolution would have been to
confess herself a bastard and an usurper. There was only one possible
Catholic sovereign of England and that was Mary Queen of Scots, and
it is difficult to see what could have been Philip’s drift in making
such an offer, which, if it had been accepted, would have vitiated his
wife’s claim to the crown of England and have strengthened that of the
French candidate.
In any case Elizabeth perceived it quickly enough, and when Feria
approached her and delivered a letter from Philip to her, she began
coyly to fence with the question. She knew she could not marry Philip;
but she was vain and greedy of admiration, and it would be something
to refuse such an offer if she could get it put into a form which
would enable her to refuse it. So she began to profess her maiden
disinclination to change her state; “but,” says Feria, “as I saw
whither she was tending, I cut short the reply, and by the conversation
which followed ... as well as the hurry she was in to give me the
answer, I soon understood what the answer would be ... to shelve the
business with fair words.” The end of it was that he refused to take
any answer at all, unless it were a favourable one, and so deprived
Elizabeth of the satisfaction of saying she had actually rejected
his master’s offer--which was a grievance with her for many years
afterwards.
Of all this the multitude knew nothing. They were busy with speculation
elsewhere. “Il Schafanoya,” the Italian gossip-monger, gives an
interesting account of the coronation ceremony and the self-sufficient
pomposity of Arundel, who was Lord Steward, “with a silver wand a yard
long, commanding everybody, from the Duke (of Norfolk) downwards.”[17]
Lord Robert Dudley as Master of the Horse “led a fair white hackney
covered with cloth of gold after the Queen’s litter,” but no one as yet
seemed to regard him as her possible consort. That came afterwards.
Schafanoya, writing to the Mantuan ambassador in Brussels (January,
1559), says: “Some persons declare that she will take the Earl of
Arundel, he being the chief peer of this realm, notwithstanding his
being old in comparison with the Queen. This report is founded on
the constant daily favours he receives in public and private from
her Majesty. Others assert that she will take a very handsome youth,
eighteen or twenty years of age and robust, judging from passion, and
because at dances and other public places she prefers him to any one
else. A third opinion is that she will marry an individual who until
now has been in France on account of his religion, though he has not
yet made his appearance, it being well known how much she loved him. He
is a very handsome gallant gentleman whose name I forget. But all are
agreed that she will take an Englishman, although the ambassadors of
the King of Sweden seek the contrary.”
The “very handsome youth” was perhaps the Earl of Oxford; the “handsome
gentleman” was certainly Sir William Pickering, who for a time was the
favourite candidate. It is known that there had been love passages
long before between Elizabeth and him, but to what extent was never
discovered. He can hardly have been a very stable character, for he had
fled to France under Mary, but had very soon entered into treacherous
correspondence with the Spanish party to spy upon the actions of the
Carews and the rest of the Protestant exiles. Shortly before Mary’s
death he had been commissioned to go to Germany and bring thence to
England a regiment of mercenaries which had been raised for Mary. They
were, however, used by Philip for his own purposes, and when Elizabeth
ascended the throne, Pickering thought proper to have a long diplomatic
illness at Dunkirk, to learn how he would be received in England after
his more than doubtful dealings. As soon as he was satisfied that
bygones would be bygones, he came to England in fine feather. Tiepolo
writes to the Doge, February 23rd: “Concerning her marriage it still
continues to be said that she will take that Master Pickering, who from
information received by me, is about thirty-six years of age, of tall
stature, handsome, and very successful with women, for he is said to
have enjoyed the intimacy of many and great ones.”[18] Parliament had
sent a deputation to the Queen to urge her to marry, and to represent
the disadvantages of a foreign match, to which the Queen had given a
sympathetic but cautious answer. This had raised the hopes of Pickering
to a great height, and in the early spring he made his appearance. He
had lingered too long, however. Lord Robert Dudley had already come
to the front. Feria wrote to Philip on the 18th of April: “During
the last few days Lord Robert has come so much into favour that he
does whatsoever he pleases with affairs, and it is even said that her
Majesty visits him in his chamber day and night. People talk of this so
freely that they go so far as to say that his wife has a malady in one
of her breasts and the Queen is only waiting for her to die to marry
Lord Robert. I can assure your Majesty that matters have reached such
a pass that I have been brought to consider whether it would not be
well to approach Lord Robert on your Majesty’s behalf, promising him
your help and favour and coming to terms with him.” At the same time
the Swedish ambassador was again pressing the suit of Prince Eric; but
he must have been extremely maladroit, for he offended Elizabeth at
the outset by saying that his master’s son was still of the same mind,
and asked for a reply to the letter he had sent her. “What letter?”
said the Queen. “The letter I brought your Majesty.” Elizabeth replied
that she was now Queen of England, and if he required an answer he
must address her as such. She added that she did not know whether his
master would leave his kingdom to marry her, but she could assure him
that she would not leave hers to be the monarch of the world, and
in the meanwhile she would say neither yes nor no. A messenger was
sent off with this cold comfort, and came back with fine presents of
furs and tapestries, and for a time Swedish money was lavished on the
courtiers very freely--and it is curious that the King of Sweden is
always spoken of as being one of the richest of monarchs--but the
ambassador became a standing joke and a laughing-stock of the Court
ladies as soon as his presents ran out. A more dignified embassy from
Eric shortly afterwards arrived with a formal offer of his hand, but
they were, as the Bishop of Aquila says, treated in a similar manner,
and ridiculed to their own faces in Court masques represented before
them.
A much more serious negotiation was running its course at the same
time. When the Emperor had been informed that Philip had desisted from
the pursuit of the match for himself, he begged him to support the suit
of the Archduke Ferdinand. It was considered unadvisable to mention at
first which of the Archdukes was the suitor, but Philip himself made
no secret of his preference to Ferdinand, who was a narrow bigot of
his own school; so the Spanish ambassador in England was instructed
to forward the matter to the best of his ability, in conjunction with
an imperial ambassador who was to be sent for the purpose. When the
instructions arrived, matters had gone so far that a secretary had
already come to London from the Emperor with letters for the Queen
and a portrait of Ferdinand. This had been arranged by Sir Thomas
Challoner, who had recently been in Vienna; but much doubt existed
as to the sincerity of Philip’s professions of good-will towards the
affair. Indeed, those who were most in favour of it appear to have
thought, not unreasonably, that the marriage would become impossible
if it were hampered with conditions dictated by Spain. The Austrian
match certainly had influential support at Court. Cecil, Sussex, and
all of Dudley’s many enemies thought at the time that it offered the
best way of checking his growing favour, and forwarded it accordingly.
In April Feria wrote: “They talk a great deal about the marriage with
the Archduke Ferdinand and seem to like it, but for my part I believe
she will never make up her mind to anything that is good for her.
Sometimes she appears to want to marry him, and speaks like a woman who
will only accept a great prince; and then they say she is in love with
Lord Robert and never lets him leave her. If my spies do not lie, which
I believe they do not, for a certain reason which they have recently
given me, I understand she will not bear children; but if the Archduke
is a man, even if she should die without any, he will be able to keep
the kingdom with the support of your Majesty.”
When Pickering finally arrived, therefore, he found the field pretty
well occupied, but his advent caused considerable stir. He was at once
surrounded by those who for various reasons were equally against Dudley
and a Catholic prince. Two days after his arrival Dudley was sent off
hunting to Windsor, and Sir William was secretly introduced into the
Queen’s presence; and a few days afterwards went publicly to the palace
and stayed several hours by the Queen’s side. “They are,” wrote Feria,
“betting four to one in London that he will be king.... If these things
were not of such great importance and so lamentable, they would be very
ridiculous.”[19]
Pickering’s arrival at Court is thus spoken of by Schafanoya, writing
on the 10th of May, 1559: “The day before yesterday there came Sir
William Pickering, who is regarded by all people as the future
husband of the Queen. He remains at home, courted by many lords of
the Council and others, but has not yet appeared at Court. It is
said they wished in Parliament to settle what title they should give
him and what dignity, but nothing was done. Many deem this to be a
sign that she will marry the Archduke Ferdinand, but as yet there
is no foundation for this, although the news comes from Flanders.
Meanwhile my Lord Robert Dudley is in very great favour and very
intimate with her Majesty. On this subject I ought not to report the
opinion of many persons. I doubt whether my letter may not miscarry
or be read, wherefore it is better to keep silence than to speak
ill.”[20] When Challoner had returned from Vienna he had brought with
him full descriptions of the Emperor’s sons. Ferdinand was a bigot
and a milksop, and Charles, the younger Archduke, was said to have
narrow shoulders and a great head. So when Baron Ravenstein arrived
in London on his matrimonial embassy the Queen was quite ready for
him. Ravenstein himself was as devout a Catholic as his master, and
was received very coolly at first. The Queen told him she would marry
no man whom she had not seen, and would not trust portrait painters;
and much more to the same effect. To his second audience Ravenstein
was accompanied by the Bishop of Aquila, as it was desirable that, if
anything came of the negotiation, Spain should get the benefit of it.
It soon became clear to the wily churchman that Ferdinand would never
do. He says: “We were received on Sunday at one, and found the Queen,
very fine, in the presence-chamber looking on at the dancing. She kept
us there a long while, and then entered her room with us.” The Bishop
pressed her, in his bland way, to favourably consider the offers of
the Emperor’s ambassador; “but I did not name the Archduke, because
I suspected she would reply excluding them both. She at once began,
as I feared, to talk about not wishing to marry, and wanted to reply
in that sense; but I cut short the colloquy by saying that I did not
seek an answer, and only begged her to hear the ambassador.” He then
stood aside and chatted with Cecil, who gave him to understand that
they would not accept Ferdinand, “as they have quite made up their
minds that he would upset their heresy,”[21] and went on to speak
of the various approaches that had already been made to the Queen;
politely regretting that affinity and religious questions had made the
marriage with Philip impossible. In the meanwhile poor Ravenstein was
making but slow progress with the Queen, who soon reduced him to dazed
despair, and the Bishop again took up the running, artfully begging
her to be plain and frank in this business, “as she knew how honestly
and kindly the worthy Germans negotiated.” And then, cleverly taking
advantage of what he had just heard from Cecil, he said that he had
been told that the Archduke had been represented to her as a young
monster, very different from what he was; “for, although both brothers
are comely, this one who was offered to her now was the younger and
more likely to please her than the one who had been spoken of before.
I thought best to speak in this way, as I understood in my talk with
Cecil that it was Ferdinand they dreaded.” The Queen at this pricked
up her ears, and asked the Bishop of whom he was speaking. He told her
the Archduke Charles, who was a very fit match for her as Ferdinand
was not available. “When she was quite satisfied of this,” says the
Bishop, “she went back again to her nonsense, saying that she would
rather be a nun than marry a man she did not know, on the faith of
portrait painters.” She then hinted that she wished Charles to visit
her in person, even if he came in disguise. Her thirst for admiration
and homage was insatiable, and, popular parvenue as she was, the idea
of princes of spotless lineage humbling themselves before her very
nearly led her into a quagmire more than once. She probably had not
the slightest intention of marrying Charles at the time, but it would
have been a great feather in her cap if she could have brought a prince
of the house of Austria as a suitor to her feet. But the Bishop was a
match for her on this occasion. “I do not know whether she is jesting
... but I really believe she would like to arrange for this visit in
disguise. So I turned it to a joke, and said we had better discuss
the substance of the business.... I would undertake that the Archduke
would not displease her.” The Bishop having soothed the Queen with
_persiflage_ of this sort, disconsolate Ravenstein was called back
rather more graciously, and told that, on the Bishop’s request, the
Queen would appoint a committee of the Council to hear his proposals.
In the meanwhile Dudley and Pickering were manœuvring for the position
of first English candidate. Sir William had now a fine suite of rooms
in the palace, and was ruffling bravely, giving grand entertainments,
and dining in solitary state by himself, with minstrels playing in
the gallery, rather than feast, like the other courtiers of his rank,
at one of the tables of the household. He pooh-poohed Ravenstein and
his mission and said that the Queen would laugh at him and all the
rest of them, as he knew she meant to die a maid. Pickering appears to
have rather lost his head with his new grandeur, and soon drops out
of the scene, upon which only the keenest wits could hope to survive.
His insolence had aroused the indignation of the greater nobles,
but somehow it was only the least pugnacious of them with whom he
quarrelled. The Earl of Bedford, who from all accounts seems to have
been a misshapen monstrosity with an enormous head, said something
offensive about Pickering at a banquet, and a challenge from the irate
knight was the immediate result; Dudley, of all men, being the bearer
thereof, always at this time ready to wound the extreme Protestant
party, to which Bedford belonged. But Pickering was as distasteful to
Catholics as to Protestants. On one occasion he was about to enter
the private chapel inside the Queen’s apartments at Whitehall, when
he was met at the door by the Earl of Arundel, who told him he ought
to know that that was no place for him, but was reserved for the
lords of the Council. Pickering answered that he knew that very well,
and he also knew that Arundel was an impudent knave. The Earl was no
hero, and Pickering went swaggering about the Court for days telling
the story. With such a swashbuckler as this for a rival, it is not
surprising that the handsome and youthful Dudley rapidly passed him in
the race for his mistress’s favour. Dudley played his game cleverly.
His idea was first to put all English aspirants out of the running by
ostensibly favouring the match with the Archduke, whilst he himself
was strengthening his influence over the Queen, in the certainty that,
when matters of religion came to be discussed, difficulties might be
raised at any moment which would break off the Austrian negotiations.
In the meanwhile the Queen coquetted with dull-witted Ravenstein, and
persuaded him that if the Archduke would come over and she liked him,
she would marry him, although she warned the ambassador not to give
his master the trouble of coming so far to see so ugly a lady as she
was. Instead of paying her the compliment for which she was angling,
he maladroitly asked her whether she wished him to write that to the
Archduke. “Certainly not,” she replied, “on my account, for I have no
intention of marrying.” She jeered at Ferdinand and his devotions,
but displayed a discreet maidenly interest in Charles, and, it is
easy to see, promptly extracted from Ravenstein all the knowledge he
possessed, much to Bishop Quadra’s anxiety. Feria had gone back to
Philip, with the assurance that she never meant to marry, and that it
was “all pastime,” but Quadra thought that she would be driven into
matrimony by circumstances. “The whole business of these people is
to avoid any engagement that will upset their wickedness. I believe
that when once they are satisfied about this they will not be averse
to Charles. I am not sure about her, for I do not understand her.
Amongst other qualities which she says her husband must possess is
that he should not sit at home all day among the cinders, but should
in time of peace keep himself employed in warlike exercises.” For many
reasons it suited Elizabeth to show an inclination to the match; for
she could thus keep the English Catholics in hand, notwithstanding
the religious innovations and her severity, whilst satisfying others
“who want to see her married and are scandalised at her doings.” But
the Bishop disbelieved in the marriage unless she were driven to it.
Whilst Ravenstein was being caressed and befooled, the French were
doing their best to hinder an understanding with him. There were sundry
French noblemen in London as hostages--and very troublesome guests
they were--who industriously spread the idea that it was ungrateful
of the Queen to disdain to marry one of her own subjects who had raised
her to the throne. When Ravenstein discussed this view with her, “she
was very vexed, and repeated to him that she would die a thousand
deaths rather than marry one of her subjects; but for all this,” says
the Bishop, “he does not seem to have got any further than usual with
his master’s affair.” And Bishop Quadra and his master were determined
he should not do so, except with Spanish intervention and on Spanish
terms, which would make the marriage impossible in England. Things were
thus going prosperously for Dudley. The Swedish embassy had come and
gone, “much aggrieved and offended ... as they were being made fun of
in the palace, and by the Queen more than anybody. I do not think it
matters much whether they depart pleased or displeased.”[22] It was
clear that Elizabeth would have nothing to do with “Eric the Bad,” and
the Archduke was now the only serious competitor; which exactly suited
Dudley, as he knew the insuperable religious obstacles that could be
raised to him.
But Dudley was not by any means the only artful or self-seeking man
in Elizabeth’s Court, and was not allowed to have all his own way.
The real difficulties of the marriage with the Archduke, hampered as
he would be by unacceptable Spanish conditions, were soon obvious to
the Protestant party, who tried a bold stroke, which, if their weapon
had been a strong instead of a lamentably weak one, might have altered
the whole course of English history. To a French Catholic princess,
as Queen of Scotland and heiress to the crown of England, the natural
counterpoise was a close alliance between England and Spain; but the
Protestants saw that, from a religious point of view, one position
was as bad as the other, and conceived the idea of encouraging the
claims of a son of the house of Hamilton, who, after Mary, was next
heir to the crown of Scotland. The Earl of Arran, son of the Duke
of Chatelherault was in France; and Cecil’s henchmen, Randolph and
Killigrew, were sent backwards and forwards to him and to Throgmorton,
in Paris, to urge him to action. If he could raise a revolution in
Scotland against papists and foreigners, and seize the crown, he might,
thought Cecil, marry Elizabeth, unite the two countries, and defy
their enemies. Trouble in Scotland was easily aroused; but the King
of France, just before his own death, which raised Mary Stuart to
the throne of France as well, learnt of the plan and ordered Arran’s
capture alive or dead. Killigrew managed to smuggle him out of France
disguised as a merchant, and took him to Geneva and Zurich, where
he sat at the feet of Peter Martyr and other reformers, and then
as secretly was hurried over to England in July, 1559. The Spanish
party and the Emperor’s ambassador soon got wind of it, and were in
dismay. The Earl was hidden first in Cecil’s house, and was afterwards
conveyed secretly to the Queen’s chambers at Greenwich. The news
soon spread, and the marriage was looked upon, all through August
and part of September, as a settled thing;[23] and, although Bedford
and Cecil went out of their way to buoy up the hopes of a marriage
with the Archduke, it was clear to the Spanish party that Arran was
the favoured man, the more especially that Mary Stuart’s husband
had now become King of France. But this did not suit Dudley. Early
in September Lady Mary Sidney, Dudley’s sister, came to the Spanish
ambassador with a wonderful story that a plot had been discovered to
poison the Queen and Dudley at a dinner given by the Earl of Arundel.
This, she said, had so alarmed the Queen, who had now a war with France
on her hands, that she had determined to marry at once, and awaited
the ambassador at Hampton Court with the offer of the Archduke, whom
she would accept. Lady Sidney professed to be acting with the Queen’s
consent, and emphatically insisted that, if the matter were now pushed
and the Archduke brought over at once, it could be concluded without
delay. The cunning Bishop himself was for once taken in. Before going
to Hampton Court he saw Dudley, who placed himself entirely at the
disposal of the King of Spain, “to whom he owed his life.” He said
the Queen had summoned him and his sister the night before, and had
directed them how to proceed. The marriage, he assured the Bishop, was
now necessary and could be effected.
The Bishop wrote to Cardinal de Granvelle directly after the interview:
“Lord Robert and his sister are certainly acting splendidly, and the
King will have to reward them well--better than he does me--and
your Lordship must remind him of it in due time. The question of
religion is of the most vital importance, as is also the manner of the
Archduke’s marriage and its conditions and ceremonies. In view of these
difficulties it would be better for the wedding to be a clandestine
one. I do not know how he will get over the oath that he will have
to take to conform with the laws of the land, which are some of them
schismatic.”[24]
The Bishop’s interview with the Queen, however, fairly mystified him.
She blew hot and cold as usual. “She hoped to God that no harm would
come to the Archduke on his incognito visit; she would be glad to see
him; but mind,” she said, “I am not bound to marry him if he come,”
which the Bishop assured the Emperor “was only dissimulation, and
she really meant to marry him.” She was very careful to repeat that
she had not invited the Archduke, and was not bound to marry him,
and went so far as to say she could not trust Quadra to state this
clearly, and would write to the Emperor herself. But whilst she said
it in words she took equal care to contradict it in looks and gestures
that could never be called up in witness against her. The Bishop was
at last completely won over, and strongly urged the Emperor to send
his son and seize the prize. This new turn of events hardly pleased
Cecil, but it was necessary for him to dissemble, for Elizabeth was
now at war with France and Scotland, and she could not afford to
give the cold shoulder to Spain as well. When the Bishop saw him on
leaving the Queen, he says: “I listened to him (Cecil) for some time,
and seeing that he was beating about the bush, I begged that we might
speak plainly to each other, as I was neither blind nor deaf, and could
easily perceive that the Queen was not taking this step, to refuse
her consent after all. He swore that he did not know, and could not
assure me,” and with this, and vague protestations of Cecil’s personal
wish for the Archduke’s success, the Bishop had to be contented. He
faithfully conveyed the Queen’s words to the Emperor, but her looks
and gestures could not be put upon paper, so that it is not surprising
that his Majesty could see no further assurance than before that he was
not to be fooled after all. Feria was more deeply versed in the ways
of women than was the Bishop, and on receiving the news, answered: “It
seems that the Emperor up to the present refuses leave for his son to
go, and, to tell the truth, I cannot persuade myself that he is wrong,
nor do I believe that she will either marry him, or refuse to marry
him whilst the matter at issue is only his visit.... As to what Lord
Robert and his sister say, I do not believe more than the first day
that the only thing the Queen is stickling for is the coming of the
lad.” There was one point touched upon by the Queen in her interview
with the Spanish ambassador, which, as he tells his own master, he
dared not refer to in his letter to the Emperor. After much fencing
and fishing for compliments respecting her personal attractions, and
expressed doubts on the Queen’s part as to whether the Archduke would
be satisfied when he saw her, she said that even if he were, he might
be displeased with what he heard about her, as there were people in the
country who took pleasure in maligning her. The Bishop wrote that she
displayed some signs of shame when she said this, whilst he parried the
point diplomatically, and hastened to change the subject. “I saw she
was pleased, as she no doubt thought that if the Archduke heard any of
the idle tales they tell about her (and they tell many) he might take
advantage of them to the detriment of her honour if the match were
broken off, although, from this point of view, I was not sorry, as the
fear may not be without advantage to us.” But to the Queen he expressed
himself shocked that she should think of such a thing as he had done
previously when Lady Sidney had hinted at a similar doubt. For the next
two months an elaborate attempt was made to keep up the appearance of
cordiality towards the Archduke’s match, and the Spanish party was
still further beguiled by the sudden tendency of the Queen to smile on
Catholicism. Candles and crucifixes were placed on the altar in the
Chapel Royal, and the Queen entertained the Bishop with long religious
discussions, for the purpose of inducing him to believe that she was a
Catholic in her heart. But they could not deceive the Bishop for very
long; nothing definite could be got from the Queen, from whose side
Dudley never moved, and by the middle of November (1559) the Bishop
satisfied himself that he was being played with. A new Swedish embassy
had arrived, and was being entertained with hopes for the first time,
particularly by Dudley, who thought that the Austrian suit, having now
served his turn and eclipsed Arran, was becoming too hot to be safe for
him. The Bishop writes: “I noticed Lord Robert was slackening in our
business, and favouring the Swedish match, and he had words with his
sister because she was carrying our affair further than he desired.
I have heard from a certain person who is in the habit of giving me
veracious news that Lord Robert had sent to poison his wife. Certainly
all the Queen has done with us and with the Swede, and will do with all
the rest in the matter of her marriage, is only to keep Lord Robert’s
enemies and the country engaged with words, until this wicked deed of
killing his wife is consummated. I am told some extraordinary things
about this intimacy which I would never have believed, only that now
I find Lord Robert’s enemies in the Council making no secret of their
evil opinion of it.” The Queen tried to face the Bishop with her usual
blandishments, but his eyes were opened, and when he pressed the point
closely, she became coolly dignified, surprised that she had been
misunderstood, and threw over Lady Sidney and Dudley, who reciprocally
cast the blame upon each other. The Bishop and the Emperor’s ambassador
were furious; and, as the best way to checkmate Dudley, approached
the Duke of Norfolk, who had been declaiming for some time against the
insolence of the rising favourite, saying that if he did not abandon
his plans he should not die in his bed, and so forth. The Duke, who was
the most popular as well as the most exalted of the English nobles,
listened eagerly to anything that should injure Dudley, and promised
all his influence and personal prestige in favour of the Archduke. He
recommended that the latter should at once come openly in state to
England, and he, the Duke, wagered his right arm if he did “that all
the biggest and best in the land should be on his side.” Whatever may
have been passing in Norfolk’s mind, there is no doubt as to what the
Bishop’s own plan was, to avenge himself for the trick played upon
him. He says: “I am of opinion that if the Archduke comes and makes
the acquaintance, and obtains the goodwill of these people, even if
this marriage--of which I have now no hope except by force--should
fall through, and any disaster were to befall the Queen, such as may be
feared from her bad government, the Archduke might be summoned to marry
Lady Catharine (Grey) to whom the kingdom comes if this woman dies. If
the Archduke sees Catharine he should so bear himself that she should
understand this design, which, in my opinion, will be beneficial and
even necessary.” The “design” evidently was the murder of the Queen and
Dudley, and the securing of Catharine Grey to the Spanish interest. A
daring plan, but requiring bold instruments and swift action. Weak,
unstable Norfolk was no leader for such an enterprise, as he proved
years afterwards. Whilst Quadra was plotting and sulking at Durham
House, Dudley’s opponents strove to checkmate him by keeping the
Archduke’s match afoot. Count Helfenstein had come from the Emperor
before the fiasco, and it was now proposed to send special English
envoys to Austria and to the King of Spain, the purpose of course being
to frighten the French into the idea that the matter was settled. One
day at Court Dudley and Norfolk came to high words about it. He was
neither a good Englishman nor a loyal subject who advised the Queen
to marry a foreigner, said Dudley; and on another occasion, Clinton
and Arundel actually fell to fisticuffs on the subject. The Swedes had
stood less on their dignity than the Austrians, and Eric’s brother,
the young Duke of Finland, had come over to press his brother’s suit.
When he arrived with vast sums of money for gifts, as before, he
preferred rather to become a suitor himself, but with little success.
When he begged for a serious audience he was kept so long outside
in an antechamber alone that he went away in a huff. The Venetian
Tiepolo writes on December 15th, giving an account of Arran’s defeat in
Scotland by the French, which, with his growing dementia, spoilt him
as a suitor; and Tiepolo goes on to say: “The Queen is still undecided
about her marriage, though amongst all the competitors she showed most
inclination for the Archduke Charles. The Duke of Finland, second son
of the King of Sweden, is with her. He came to favour the suit of his
elder brother, and then proposed himself, but the man’s manners did
not please the Queen. The second son also of the late John Frederick
of Saxony, who heretofore was proposed to the Queen by the French, but
was afterwards deserted by them because they wished her to marry an
Englishman ... has not relinquished his pretensions, and has sent Count
Mansfeldt to propose to the Queen. The King of Denmark, in like manner,
has not failed to exert himself, although the general opinion is that
if the affairs of the Earl of Arran prosper he will prevail over all
competitors.”[25]
All through the winter of 1559-60 matters thus lingered on. The Bishop
plotting and planning for the invasion of England from Flanders,
and completely undeceived with regard to the Queen’s matrimonial
intentions, whilst the English still desired to keep up an appearance
of cordial friendship with the Spanish party, as a counterpoise to the
King of France, with whom they were at war in Scotland. The Bishop
gives an account of an interview which he and Helfenstein, the new
imperial ambassador had with the Queen in February, and it is clear
that at this time she was again very anxious to beguile the Emperor
into sending his son on chance. But Helfenstein was a very different
sort of ambassador from Ravenstein, and she could not do much with
him; his idea being to hold her at arm’s length until she was forced
to write to the Emperor herself, as she promised to do, in which case
it would not, he thought, be difficult to construe something she might
say into a pledge which she could be forced to fulfil. “I do not,”
says the Bishop, “treat this matter with her as I formerly did, as I
want her to understand that I am not deceived by her.” Nor was he for
a time deceived by Dudley. “The fellow is ruining the country with his
vanity.” “If he lived for another year he” (Dudley) said “he would
be in a very different position,” and so forth. During the summer an
envoy named Florent (Ajacet) was sent by Catharine de Medici and her
son to propose as a husband for Elizabeth a son of the Duke de Nevers.
As may be supposed, such a match--or indeed any match recommended
by the consort of her enemy Mary Stuart, with whom her war was hardly
ended--did not meet with her approval, and the envoy then went to
Bishop Quadra and told him he knew of a certain way of bringing about
the marriage with the Archduke. His plan was that the Emperor should
prevail upon the King of France to give up Calais to England. This
was merely a feeler and absurd, as Francis II. had nothing to gain
by the Austrian match, but the Bishop maliciously told the Queen the
joke, as he called it, whereupon she was very angry that her claim for
Calais should be treated so lightly. She then told him that she saw
now she must marry without delay, “although with the worst will in the
world,” and tried again to lead him to believe that she was anxious
to marry the Archduke, “but I fear,” said he, “that it is with the
hope of gaining your Majesty’s favour in her cause, as she calls it,
with the French.... Religious matters make me believe that in case
she determines to marry, she will rather lay hands on any of these
heretics than on the Archduke. I understand now that the Earl of Arran
is excluded as being poor and of small advantage, and also because he
is not considered personally agreeable. They all favour the Prince
of Sweden as he is both heretical and rich, and especially Secretary
Cecil, who would expect to remain at the head of affairs as at
present.” Shortly afterwards, in September, 1560, Cecil took the Bishop
aside and complained bitterly of Dudley, who he said was trying to turn
him out of his place; and then, after exacting many pledges of secrecy,
said that the Queen was conducting herself in such a way that he,
Cecil, thought of retiring, as he clearly foresaw the ruin of the realm
through the Queen’s intimacy with Dudley, whom she meant to marry. He
begged the Bishop to remonstrate with the Queen, and ended by saying
that Dudley was thinking of killing his wife, “who was said to be ill
although she was quite well.”[26] “The next day,” writes the Bishop,
“as she was returning from hunting, the Queen told me that Robert’s
wife was dead, or nearly so, and asked me not to say anything about it.
Certainly this business is most shameful and scandalous; and, withal, I
am not sure whether she will marry the man at once or even at all, as I
do not think she has her mind sufficiently fixed. Cecil says she wishes
to do as her father did.” In a postscript of the same letter the writer
gives the news of poor Amy Robsart’s death. “She broke her neck--
she must have fallen down a staircase, said the Queen.” Thenceforward
Dudley was free, and the marriage negotiations had another factor to be
taken into account.
About a month afterwards Cecil came to the Bishop and said that as
the Queen had personally assured him she would not marry Dudley, he
urged him once more to bring the Archduke forward; but Quadra was
wary now, for he saw the design was only to arouse the fears of the
French, and he would take no hasty step. It is difficult to see how he
could have done so, for, after sending three ambassadors, the Emperor
had now quite made up his mind that the Queen should not again play
with him. Every weapon in the feminine battery had been employed--
maiden coyness, queenly reserve, womanly weakness, and the rest of
them, had been tried in vain. A good portrait of the Archduke had
been sent, and her own agents had seen him. If, said the Emperor,
this were not enough, the young man should come himself; but only on
a distinct pledge that she would marry him if he did. Beyond this the
Emperor would not go, and the Queen always stopped short at a binding
promise. Nor, indeed, would the match have pleased the extreme reform
party in England led by Cecil, Bedford, and Clinton, which was now the
paramount one. It was useful to Cecil, in order to play it as a trump
card whenever the negotiations with the French rendered it necessary,
but, at the time, undoubtedly the Swedish match was most in favour
with the Protestant party. Prince Eric was very persevering. When his
brother returned to Sweden he proposed to come to England himself,
but was induced to delay his visit; according to Throgmorton,[27] in
order that his father might abdicate, and he might get better terms.
“Both father and son, however, have sent to propose very advantageous
conditions to the Queen, should she consent to the marriage. They
will bind themselves to send to England annually 200,000 crowns to be
expended for the benefit of English subjects, and in time of war to
keep fifty armed ships at their own cost, with other private conditions
very profitable for England, which the King defers making known until
his coming to her.” It is evident that Eric was too much in earnest to
suit Elizabeth, and she had to behave rudely enough to him on several
occasions to prevent his ardour from causing inconvenience. It is more
than probable that she deceived Cecil and the rest of her advisers as
to her matrimonial intentions as completely as she did the suitors
themselves, and that she never meant to marry--except perhaps on two
occasions, which will be specified, when circumstances or her feelings
nearly drove her to the irrevocable step. Her own motives were less
complicated than those of her advisers, and the lifelong playing off
of France against Spain, of which her matrimonial negotiations were
a part, was obviously only possible whilst she kept single; whereas
party, religious, and personal affinities all operated on the minds of
her courtiers and ministers, and, to a certain extent, separated their
interests from hers.
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