Dudley and the Council of Trent—The Bishop of Aquila tricked—Eric makes another attempt—Dudley again approaches the Bishop—The suitors for Mary of Scotland—Darnley—The Archduke Charles—Dudley—Melvil’s mission to Elizabeth—Hans Casimir—French approaches.

When it was clear that the Archduke Charles was shelved and that Cecil and the Protestants were urging the suit of the Prince of Sweden, who evidently meant business, it behoved Dudley to make a countermove. Bishop Quadra had over and over again said he had found him out, and would not be deceived by him again; but in January, 1561, only four months after Lady Robert Dudley’s death, Sir Henry Sidney came to see the Bishop. Sir Henry was Lord Robert’s brother-in-law, and had always belonged to the Spanish or Catholic party, and consequently was a persona grata with Quadra, especially as he was a near relative of the Duchess of Feria (Jane Dormer) whose husband was the Bishop’s great patron. He came (of course from Dudley), and after much beating about the bush said that as the Queen’s attachment to Lord Robert, and her desire to marry him were now public, he, Sidney, was much surprised that some approach was not made to Dudley on behalf of the King of Spain; as in the event of a helping hand being extended to him now, “he would hereafter serve and obey your Majesty like one of your own vassals.” The Bishop intimated that there was no particular reason why his master should put himself out of the way about it, as he had nothing to gain in the matter, although if the Queen expressed a desire for his good offices he would be always ready to extend courtesy to her. But really such strange tales were afloat, said the Bishop, that he had not dared to write to the King about them. Sidney took the bull by the horns and said that if the Bishop were satisfied about Lady Robert’s death he saw no other reason for hesitation, “as after all, though it was a love affair, the object of it was marriage, and there was nothing illicit about it.” He had, he said, inquired carefully into Lady Robert’s death, and was satisfied that it was an accident, although he knew that public opinion held to the contrary. The Bishop was very dubious upon the point, and said drily that it would be difficult for Lord Robert to make things appear as he represented them. Sidney admitted that no one believed it was an accident, and that even preachers in the pulpits impugned the honour of the Queen in the matter. This led him to the real object of his visit, which was to propose that in return for the King of Spain’s help towards Dudley’s marriage he would undertake to “restore religion.” The Bishop still held off, reminding him of how he had been tricked by Robert and the Queen before through Sidney’s wife, and refused to move unless the Queen herself spoke about it and told him what to write to his master. This, said Sidney, was impossible, unless he broached the subject first, but promised that Dudley himself should come and state his own case. The Bishop deprecated the making of any bargain about religion. If Robert wished to relieve his conscience he would be glad to hear him, but he could enter into no agreement to reward him for doing what was the duty of every good Christian: all of which meant that the Bishop was determined not to be caught again and made to act by vague professions. In his letter to the King, however, he emphatically urges him to take advantage of the Queen’s passion for Dudley to bring her to her knees, “as she will not dare to publish the match if she do not obtain your Majesty’s consent,” popular feeling being dead against it. “There is not a person,” he says, “without some scandalous tale to tell about the matter, and one of the Queen’s gentlemen of the chamber is in prison for blabbing.” It was even asserted that the Queen had had children by Dudley, but this the Bishop said he did not believe. Shortly after this interview Sidney brought his brother-in-law and the Bishop together, and Dudley, wisely avoiding any direct reference to the religious bargain, merely asked the ambassador to recommend the Queen to marry him. The Bishop said he could not do that, but would make an opportunity for praising him to the Queen whilst speaking of the advisability of her marriage. This was even more than Dudley expected, and he urged that no time should be lost. Two days afterwards the Queen received the Bishop, who more than fulfilled his promise to praise Dudley; although he was careful to say that the King knew nothing of the matter, but he succeeded in persuading the Queen that his help would be readily forthcoming if it were requested.

“After much circumlocution she said she wished to confess to me.... She was no angel, and did not deny that she had some affection for Lord Robert ... but she certainly had not decided to marry him or any one else, although she daily saw more clearly the necessity of her marriage, and to satisfy the English humour it was desirable that she should marry an Englishman.... What would your Majesty think, she asked, if she married one of her servants?” The Bishop replied that he did not know, but would write and ask the King, if she desired him to do so, although he believed his master would be glad to hear of her marriage in any case, and would no doubt be happy to learn of the advancement and elevation of Lord Robert, for whom he felt much affection. The Queen had perforce to be content with this, which she at once repeated to Dudley, who came to the Bishop to thank him. Dudley was so elated at the almost unexpected help he was getting that, in the fulness of his heart he repeated Sidney’s pledge that in return the whole control of the Government should be handed over to the King of Spain, and the Catholic religion restored. The Bishop stopped him at once. He had done, he said, and would do, all he could to forward his marriage, but he would make no bargain about religion. That was an affair of their own conscience. “I am thus cautious with these people, because if they are playing false, which is quite possible, I do not wish to give them the opportunity of saying that we offered them your Majesty’s favour in return for their changing their religion, as they say similar things to make your Majesty disliked by the heretics here and in Germany. If they are acting straightforwardly, a word from your Majesty in due time will do more than I can do with many.”28 At the same time the Bishop made no secret to the King of his opinion that unless the “heretics” were to finally prevail Dudley’s marriage must be forwarded or a revolution and the removal of the Queen carried out. Philip was even more cautious than his ambassador. He was anxious to help Dudley on the lines suggested, but there must be something in writing from the Queen and her lover, and some prior earnest must be given of their chastened hearts in the matter of religion, either by the despatch of plenipotentaries to the Council of Trent or otherwise. Dudley was all eagerness to get the matter settled, and for the next few weeks kept urging the Queen to request the King of Spain’s good offices towards the marriage. But the recognition of the Pope’s Council of Trent was a serious matter and could not be done without the co-operation of Cecil. He had been bought over temporarily to Dudley’s side in appearance by the gift of some vacant sinecure offices, but he saw—as did the Queen in her calmer moments—that the participation of Elizabeth in the Catholic Council would ruin England by destroying the balance upon which its safety depended. So whilst ostensibly countenancing it he artfully frustrated Dudley’s plan. Francis II., Mary Stuart’s husband, was now dead, and France was ruled by the Queen-mother Catharine de Medici, whose tenure of power largely depended upon Huguenot support. So to her was sent the Puritan Earl of Bedford to suggest joint action with England in relation to the Council and religious affairs generally as a countercheck to Dudley, and Cecil himself began to intervene in the negotiations with the Bishop. He urged the latter to get his master to write a letter to the Queen recommending the marriage, in terms that he knew were impossible, and when the Bishop asked him point blank whether this was the Queen’s message or his own, he begged that a modest maiden like her Majesty might not be driven into a corner and made to appear anxious for her own marriage. He further said the intention was to summon Parliament, and lay the King’s letter before it as an inducement for them to adopt the marriage with Dudley—a course which he knew well would have an entirely opposite effect. The Bishop soon saw the drift. “The sum of it all is that Cecil and these heretics wish to keep the Queen bound and subject to their heresies, and although she sees that they treat her badly, and especially the preachers, she dares not go against Cecil’s advice, as she fears both sides would then rise up against her. Robert is very much displeased at all this, and has used great efforts to cause the Queen to make a stand and free herself from the tyranny of these people and throw herself entirely on your Majesty’s favour. I do not think, however, that he has been able to prevail, as he is faint-hearted and his favour is founded on vanity.” Sidney, Pembroke, and others, urged Dudley to action, but, infatuated as the Queen was with him, she knew what a weak reed he was in Council, and always checked herself in her passion to take the wise advice of Cecil. For some weeks, however, the Bishop was deceived. A great show of cordiality was made towards him; the Catholic nobles and bishops, persuaded that Dudley’s suit was being pushed by Spain, began to gather round the favourite, and ostensible preparations were made for receiving the Pope’s Nuncio in England with the invitation to the Council of Trent. The Bishop wrote to the King that, at last Dudley “appeared to have made up his mind to be a worthy man and gain respect.” Dudley was now more emphatic than before of his intention to restore the Catholic religion in England, and the Protestant party took fright. Greatly to Quadra’s indignation public opinion was excited against himself as the promoter of a plot to restore Catholicism; the Nuncio was informed that he would not be allowed to land in England, the Queen refused to send envoys to the Council of Trent, Sidney was hurried off to his Government in Wales, and, by the end of April, Cecil’s underhand diplomacy had triumphed and Dudley’s plan to force the Queen into a marriage by the aid of the Catholics was frustrated. It is undoubted that the Queen was perilously near taking the step on this occasion, and, but for Cecil, might have been betrayed into doing so; although Dudley’s vain and giddy boasting, when he thought he had triumphed on this and other occasions aided the disillusionment. Her own imperiousness could not brook his assumption of superior airs in her presence, and she quickly resented it. She would let them know, she said, that in England there was only one mistress and no master. Shortly before she had told Morette, who came at the instance of the Duke of Savoy, to propose the Duke de Nemours for a husband, that in England there was a woman who acted as a man, and did not need a Granvelle or a Montmorenci to guide her. Elizabeth was now in the very prime of her beauty and powers. Her complexion was of that peculiar transparence which is only seen in golden blondes, her figure was fine and graceful, and her wit and accomplishments were such as would have made a woman of any rank or time remarkable. She was a splendid horsewoman too, with a keen eye for popular effect in her actions, and for ever on the look-out, as her ill-fated mother had been, for the cheers of the populace. One of the German agents sent by the Emperor about the Archduke Charles’s match, gave a glowing account of her.29 “She lives, he says, a life of such magnificence and feasting as can hardly be imagined, and occupies a great portion of her time with balls, banquets, hunting, and similar amusements, with the utmost possible display, but nevertheless she insists upon far greater respect being shown her than was exacted by Queen Mary. She summons Parliament, but lets them know that her orders must be obeyed in any case.” Her vanity was perfectly insatiable, and only those who would consent to pander to it could hope for a continuance of her favour, always excepting Cecil, but yet the great mind, the far-seeing caution, the strong will, the keen self-interest, kept even the vanity and frivolity in check when they otherwise would have led her into danger. As Dudley was necessary to her weak side, so was Cecil needful to her strong one: the one to amuse and gratify her, the other to counsel and sustain her and to protect her against herself.

The Bishop attributed the approaches made to him by Dudley to a deep-laid scheme to propitiate Spain until the widowed Mary Stuart should be married, but he seems to leave out of account Dudley’s real desire for his marriage with the Queen on any terms, and his wrath at the fiasco. The Bishop thought the hand of Cecil had been forced by the coming of the Pope’s Nuncio, and that otherwise the farce would have been kept up for some time longer. In any case the Catholic hopes in England and Ireland, which had revived at the news of the negotiation with Spain, were speedily crushed by fresh persecutions, and the Protestants in England, France, and Germany were for the first time drawn together in a common understanding. That the Bishop was deeply chagrined at the way he had been treated is clear by his behaviour towards the Queen and Dudley during the entertainment given by Dudley on St. John’s Day, 1561. It was only a month after the Nuncio had been turned back, and the Catholic prosecutions were being carried on vigorously. The Queen, Dudley, and the Bishop were alone in the gallery of the State-barge off Greenwich witnessing the fireworks and other entertainments, “when she and Robert began joking, which she likes to do much better than talking about business. They went so far in their jokes that Lord Robert told her that if she wished I could be the clergyman to marry them, and she, nothing loath to hear it, said she was not sure whether I knew enough English. I let them jest for a time, but at last spoke to them in earnest, and told them that if they listened to me they could extricate themselves from the tyranny of the councillors who had taken possession of the Queen and her affairs, and could restore peace and unity to the country by reinstating religion. If they did this they could effect the marriage they spoke of, and I should be glad to perform it, and they might severely punish those who did not like it, as they could do anything with your Majesty (Philip) on their side. As things were now I did not think the Queen would be able to marry except when and whom Cecil and his friends might please. I enlarged on this point somewhat, because I see that unless Robert and the Queen are estranged from this gang of heretics they will continue as heretofore, but if God ordain that they should fall out with them I should consider it an easy thing to do everything else we desire.” No action more likely to attain the end in view than that adopted by the Bishop can be conceived, and had it depended upon Dudley alone, not many days would have passed before England was handed over to Spain and the Catholics for the satisfaction of the worthless favourite’s ambition. Happily the Queen and Cecil had to be taken into account as well, and England was saved. In August news came to England that the new king, Eric XIV., encouraged by certain Puritan messages sent to him when Dudley’s marriage was pending, was on his way to England. His servants and household stuff arrived in Dover, with smart new liveries and a showy stud of horses, and it was announced that the King would follow at once to ask for Elizabeth’s hand. This was inconvenient, for Mary of Scotland was still a widow, and the wedding of Elizabeth to Eric would have been at once followed by the marriage of Mary to a nominee of Philip, to the almost certain destruction of the Protestant party. Elizabeth assured the Swedes that she had no intention of marrying, refusing a passport for the King on the ground that it was not becoming for a modest maiden to be always giving passports to a young unmarried prince—besides, she had given him two already—one of which he did not use and the other was lost. In face of this coolness Eric affected to put to sea, but a providential tempest caused him to return, and the affair was again shelved, the Queen in the meanwhile dallying with Lord Robert, which she could do without much danger to the State now that Cecil had upset his Catholic plan. But Dudley’s personal enemies were always on the alert. Arundel considered he had been insulted by him, and in revenge had a minute inquiry made as to the circumstances of Lady Robert’s death, which disclosed very suspicious facts. This humbled Dudley somewhat and made him more cautious, but as he found the Catholics incensed against him, he tried to balance matters by approaching their opponents. He sent an envoy to Henry of Navarre with similar proposals to the Huguenots to those he had previously made to the Spaniards and Catholics. If they would uphold him in his pretensions to the Queen’s hand he would practically hand over England to their control. They politely agreed, but knew full well that the control of England was in stronger hands than his, and did nothing to help him. It was little indeed they could have done just then, for their own great struggle was yet before them, and Dudley soon found that he had made a mistake. His sending Mowbray to negotiate with Navarre had offended the regular English ambassador, Throgmorton, and the noise of the intrigue had reached England, more than ever irritating the Catholics against Dudley. The latter had no scruples and no shame, and turned completely round again. In January, 1562, he once more went servilely to Bishop Quadra, professing his attachment to Spanish interests and begging that Philip should write to the Queen urging her to marry him. He was in a great hurry, and wanted the letter before Easter; but the Bishop was not to be rushed into another compromising position, and said that he had so often assured the Queen of Philip’s affection for Dudley that a fresh letter from the King was unnecessary, but he would again speak to her Majesty in his favour. This did not satisfy Lord Robert, but it was all he could get, and a few days afterwards the Bishop asked Elizabeth what was the meaning of Dudley’s request, as Philip’s approval of the match had already been expressed. “She replied that she was as free from any engagement to marry as on the day she was born, no matter what the world might think or say, but she had quite made up her mind to marry nobody whom she had not seen or known, and consequently she might be obliged to marry in England, in which case she thought she could find no person more fitting than Lord Robert. She did not wish people to say that she had married of her own desire, but that her friends and neighbouring princes should persuade her to do so.” “This,” said she, “is what Robert wants; as for me, I ask for nothing.” Seeing that the Bishop still held off and refused to budge, she said it was of no consequence at all. It was only for appearance’ sake. She could as well marry without Philip’s approval as with it, but if she did, Robert would have but small reason to serve the interests of Spain. “I answered her in a joking way,” said the Bishop, “and told her not to dilly-dally any longer, but to satisfy Lord Robert at once ... and so I passed over the question of the letter.” He, no doubt correctly, surmised that the letter was wanted merely for the purpose of mollifying the Catholics towards Dudley, and plainly told Philip that if he were not prepared to force Catholicism upon England by an invasion, there was no reason why the letter should not be sent, as it would at all events please somebody, whilst his present attitude of reserve pleased no one, and the English Catholics would never move without active help. The letter, however, was never written, and three months afterwards the Bishop himself had altered his opinion about it. In April, 1562, he writes to Granvelle that the time had now gone by for Philip to help Robert, as the Catholics were against him, and instead of their being propitiated they would be alienated thereby. “The Queen,” he says, “desires not to act in accord with his Majesty, as will have been seen by her behaviour in this case and all others. I have already pointed out that the letter they requested was only to smooth over all difficulties here and carry out their own intentions.” Quadra was now completely undeceived, and declined to be snared again with matrimonial negotiations. Indeed, for the present, the point upon which European policy pivoted was not the marriage of Elizabeth, which had now grown stale, but that of the widowed Mary Stuart in Scotland. The persevering Eric XIV., after yet one more repulse from the Queen Elizabeth, had sent to propose to Mary—which, however, did not prevent his ambassador in London from politely suggesting a match with one of the daughters of the Emperor—Darnley, the Earl of Arran, Don Carlos, and even the Archduke Charles, were already being dangled before Mary’s eyes. Her uncles, the Guises, were in an atmosphere of intrigue on the subject, and there was hardly a Court in Europe that had not its own candidate for the Scottish Queen’s hand. Elizabeth’s great efforts, seconded by those of James Stuart (afterwards the Regent Murray), were directed towards preventing Mary from marrying a powerful foreign prince, particularly a Catholic, and as a means to this end the Huguenots in France were encouraged to break down the power of the Guises. Catharine de Medici, the regent, was glad of the chance, for she hated them; and now that their niece was no longer Queen of France there was no excuse for their predominance. The best way for the English to please the Huguenots was to flout Spain and the Catholics, and the Bishop soon found that frowns instead of smiles greeted him. Elizabeth had been informed that an intrigue was afoot to marry Mary to Don Carlos, the vicious young lunatic who was Philip’s only son. This would have meant the ruin of Protestant England and the strengthening of the Guises in France, to the detriment of Catharine de Medici. The plan of the latter, supported by James Stuart, was to hasten on a marriage between Mary and Darnley. Elizabeth did not relish the idea of the union of the two next legal heirs to her own crown, but pretended to approve of it,30 and Dudley promised Lethington to support it strongly, in the hope that such a precedent might bring his own marriage nearer. The Spanish ambassador was openly slighted, his couriers stopped, his letters read, his secretary suborned, and he himself placed under semi-arrest, charged with plotting against the Queen. Among other things he was accused of writing to Philip, in a letter that had been intercepted, that the Queen had been privately married to Lord Robert in the Earl of Pembroke’s house. To this he answered that he had merely written what all London was saying, namely, that the wedding had taken place. “When he had said as much to the Queen herself she was not annoyed thereat, for she had replied that it was not only people outside who thought so, as on her return that afternoon from the Earl’s house her own ladies-in-waiting, when she entered the chamber with Lord Robert, had asked her whether they were to kiss his hand as well as her own, to which she had replied no, and that they were not to believe what people said.” The Bishop inserted a sting at the end of his justification by saying that, considering the way people were talking, he did not think he would injure the Queen by saying she was married. Elizabeth’s next step was to send powerful aid to the Huguenots in France, who were already in arms, to draw closer the connection with the Protestants in Germany and Holland, and for the first time openly to disregard Spain and the Catholic party in Europe. With a divided France and a discontented Netherlands this was possible as it never had been before. In the midst of the warlike preparations in England to occupy Havre for the Huguenots, Elizabeth fell ill of small-pox at Hampton Court, and was thought to be on her death-bed. The consternation in the palace was great, as the crisis was unexpected; but whilst the acrimonious discussions as to the succession were still in progress the Queen rallied, and was pronounced out of danger. The first thing she did on recovering speech and consciousness was to beg the Council to make Dudley protector, with a peerage and an income of £20,000. Everything she asked was promised, though, as Quadra says, without any intention of fulfilling it. But Dudley and the Duke of Norfolk were admitted members of the Council, which was a great point gained for the former. When the Queen feared she might die she protested solemnly before God that, although she loved Robert dearly, nothing improper had ever passed between them.31

Parliament assembled early in 1563, and deputations from both Houses addressed the Queen on the subject of fixing the succession. She was extremely angry, and said that what they saw on her face were pock marks and not wrinkles, and she was not so old yet as to have lost hope of children. Subsequent attempts to approach her on the subject, or that of the marriage, met with a similar or more violent repulse. In March, during the sitting of Parliament, Maitland of Lethington, Mary of Scotland’s famous Secretary of State, arrived in London for the purpose of forwarding his mistress’s claim to the succession. He soon saw that the Queen would have her way, and that no successor would be appointed, the evident intention of both Elizabeth and Catharine de Medici being, as Mary herself said, to force an unworthy or a Protestant marriage upon her, in order to injure her prestige with the English Catholics. Cardinal Lorraine and others were anxious that Mary should wed the Archduke Charles, but Mary said she must have a prince strong enough to enforce her claim to the English throne, which Charles was not, and refused him, her own Catholic noblemen being also strongly against him for similar reasons. The opponents of the Guises in France, and the Protestants in England, were of course against the marriage of Mary with a member of the house of Austria, so that, although his name was kept to the front for some time, Charles was never a probable husband for the Queen of Scots. In a long conversation Elizabeth had with Maitland she told him that if his mistress would take her advice, and wished to marry with safety and happiness, she would give her a husband who would ensure both: and this was Lord Robert, in whom nature had implanted so many graces that if she (Elizabeth) wished to marry she would prefer him to all the princes in the world. Maitland said this was indeed a proof of the love she bore to his mistress, to give up to her what she cherished so much herself, but he hardly thought his mistress, even if she loved Lord Robert as dearly as Elizabeth did, would consent to deprive her of all the joy and solace she received from his company. Elizabeth, after some more talk of this sort, said she wished to God that his brother, the Earl of Warwick, had the grace and good looks of Robert, in which case each Queen could have one of the brothers. Maitland was much embarrassed by this unexpected sally, and adroitly turned the subject to one that he knew would silence the Queen. He said that as his mistress was much the younger, it would be well that Elizabeth should marry Robert first and have children, and then when she died she might leave both her kingdom and her husband to Mary.

The Scots nobles at this time saw that, with Elizabeth and Catharine united against their Queen, things were likely to go badly with her; and even Protestants such as Maitland and Murray were desirous of counteracting the opposing combination by enlisting the help of Spain. Maitland, therefore, after much circumlocution and mystery, proposed to Quadra that Mary should be offered to Don Carlos. The Bishop was delighted with the idea, and sent the offer to Philip, who also approved of it. If such a marriage had been possible, and had been carried out swiftly and suddenly, it might have been the turning-point to make England Catholic—but it was not to be. Events marched too rapidly for Philip’s leaden method, and the opportunity was lost whilst information, pledges, and securities were being sought from the Scotch and English nobles, upon whom Philip depended for deposing Elizabeth and placing Mary and her consort on the throne of Great Britain. In vain through a course of years Philip was told with tiresome reiteration that things could not be done in that way. The Catholics would not rise without a certainty of aid, and the pledges could not be all on one side. So, tired of waiting, at last the Scots nobles were driven to consent to Mary’s marriage with Darnley, and she, for a time at least, ceased to be the centre figure in the marriage manoeuvres.

Sir James Melvil, one of those cosmopolitan Scotsmen who were in so much request at European Courts in the sixteenth century, had been sent by the Emperor and the Elector Palatine, to whom he was then attached, to propose a marriage between the boy-king, Charles IX., and one of the granddaughters of the Emperor Ferdinand, and whilst he was still in Paris, early in 1564, his own Queen, Mary of Scotland, recalled him. He had lived abroad for many years—since he was a child—and Catharine de Medici made him tempting offers to remain with her, but he decided to obey Mary’s summons and return home. He had, of course, first to go to Heidelberg and take leave of his master, the Palatine. Some time before this the Palatine’s second son, the famous Duke Hans Casimir, had requested Melvil to carry an offer of marriage from him to Elizabeth. Melvil refused, as he says he had reason to believe from what he had heard that Elizabeth knew herself incapable of child-bearing, and “would never subject herself to any man.” When Melvil was taking leave of the Palatine, Hans Casimir forgot his resentment sufficiently to request the Scotch courtier to take his portrait and present it to the Queen on his way through London, and after considerable demur Melvil consented to do so on condition that he carried with him portraits of all the rest of the Elector Palatine’s family, so that Hans Casimir’s picture might be introduced as if accidentally. Melvil took with him also an important message from the Protestant princes of Germany to Elizabeth; and, with his polish and wit, very soon got into the Queen’s good graces. He deftly introduced the subject of the portraits, and she at once asked him pointedly whether he had that of Hans Casimir, as she wished to see it. He told her he had left the portraits in London, he being then at Hampton Court, whereupon she said he should not go until she had seen the pictures. Melvil delivered them to her next day, and even suggested that she should keep them. But she only asked Dudley’s opinion about them, “and would have none of them. I had also sure information that first and last she despised Duke Casimir.” Which, indeed, seems highly probable. In one of the Queen’s familiar chats with Melvil she told him she had determined to propose two persons as fit husbands for his Queen, and promised to make the Scotsman her agent in the matter, which, he says, at the persuasion of Dudley, she failed to do. He was soon sent back again to London as Mary’s envoy, to, if possible, mollify Elizabeth’s anger at the Scotch queen’s cool reception of her matrimonial advice, and at Mary’s intimacy with Lennox, the father of Darnley.

He arrived in London early in October, 1564, and soon became on friendly terms with Elizabeth again. In his first interview in an “alley” in the gardens at Whitehall he told the Queen that his mistress had not considered the proposal for her to marry Dudley until a joint commission of Scotch and English statesmen should have met; and Melvil suggested that the English commissioners should be the Earl of Bedford and Lord Robert. Elizabeth took offence at the order in which the names were mentioned. “She said,” writes Melvil, “that I appeared to make small account of my Lord Robert, seeing that I named the Earl of Bedford before him, but she said that ere long she would make him a far greater earl, and that I should see it done before I returned home. For she esteemed him as her brother and best friend, whom she would herself have married had she ever minded to have taken a husband. But being determined to end her life in virginity, she wished the Queen her sister might marry him, as meetest of all other with whom she could find in her heart to declare her second person.”32 Elizabeth’s reason for her recommendation was a curious one. She said she trusted Dudley so implicitly that she knew that if he married Mary he would not allow any attempt to usurp the throne of England whilst she, Elizabeth, lived. The Queen was as good as her word, and before Melvil left he saw Dudley made Earl of Leicester and Baron Denbeigh. The ceremony of investure was a splendid one, and the Queen herself helped to decorate the new earl with the insignia of his rank, “he sitting on his knees before her with great gravity. But she could not refrain from putting her hand in his neck, smilingly tickling him, the French ambassador and I standing by. Then she turned, asking at me, 'How I liked him.’ Melvil gave a courtly answer. 'Yet,’ says she, 'you like better of yonder long lad,’ pointing towards my lord Darnley, who, as nearest prince of the blood, did bear the sword of honour that day before her. My answer was that no woman of spirit would make choice of such a man, who more resembled a woman than a man. For he was handsome, beardless, and lady-faced.” But for all that one of Melvil’s principal purposes in England was diplomatically to obtain permission for Darnley to go to Scotland. On another occasion Elizabeth told Melvil that she would never marry unless forced thereto by his mistress’s “harsh behaviour.” “I know the truth of that, Madam,” said he, “you need not tell me. You think that if you were married you would be but Queen of England, and now you are both King and Queen. I know your spirit cannot endure a commander.” She then took him to her bedchamber and opened a little cabinet “wherein were divers little pictures, and their names written with her own hand on the papers. Upon the first that she took up was written 'My lord’s picture.’ I held up the candle and pressed to see the picture so named, but she appeared loath to let me see it, yet my importunity prevailed, and found it to be the Earl of Leicester’s picture.” Melvil tried to get the picture to carry to Scotland, as the Queen had, as he says, the original; but Elizabeth would not part with the counterfeit, although she pretended to be willing to give Dudley himself to “her dear sister.” Melvil gives a very amusing account of the manner in which the Queen pressed him to give his opinion as to the respective perfections of his mistress and herself. She dressed herself in every possible style for his delectation, showed off her dancing, her music (with a fair amount of coyness), her knowledge of languages. “Her hair,” he says, “was more reddish than yellow, curled, in appearance, naturally. She desired to know whether my Queen’s hair or hers was the best.” He rather fenced so delicate a question, but the Queen insisted upon an answer, and she was told that “she was the fairest Queen in England, and mine the fairest Queen in Scotland.” But still she was not satisfied, and after much pressure Melvil was fain to answer that “she was the whiter of the two, but that Mary was very lovely.”

Shortly before Melvil’s visit a new Spanish ambassador, Guzman de Silva, had arrived in London, and Dudley lost not a day in trying upon him the tactics that had failed with Quadra. A Catholic friend of his was sent to Guzman to assure him that, if he would exert his influence to ruin Cecil with the Queen, Dudley would place himself under the orders of Philip, and at a second interview with the ambassador the same person told him “that Robert still looks to marry the Queen, and thinks that religious questions will be settled thereby. Robert, he says, has an understanding with the Pope on the matter, and a person in Rome to represent him. This he told me in strict secrecy, and greatly praises Robert’s good intentions with regard to religion and the marriage, but with equivocal assurances as to what measures would be adopted.” Needless to say that the former ambassador’s experience was not lost upon his successor, and Dudley was henceforward looked at askance by the Spanish party. The Queen herself next tried her blandishments on the new envoy. He was invited to a grand masque represented in the palace, and sat next to her Majesty, who interpreted the play to him. Of course it was all about love, which gave an opportunity for the Queen to ask the Spaniard whether Don Carlos had grown manly. She was told that he had, and then, sighing sentimentally, she said: “Ah me! every one disdains me! I hear he is to be married to the Queen of Scots.” The ambassador assured her that it was not true—Carlos had been too ill of late for any thought of his marriage, but still people would gossip about great people. “That is very true,” said the Queen. “Why, they even said in London the other day that the King was sending an ambassador to treat of the marriage of the prince (Don Carlos) with me!” The feasting and entertainment lasted till two in the morning, but it is probable that this hint was the origin and end of it all. This was in July, 1564, when the Queen felt the need of again drawing closer to the house of Austria. She had been somewhat badly treated by CondÉ and his Huguenots. Peace had been made in France on terms which again gave the Catholics a predominance, and Cardinal Lorraine had already practically arranged the interview between Catharine de Medici and her daughter, the Queen of Spain, which took place at Bayonne in the following spring. It was known in England and Germany that the real object of this meeting between mother and daughter was to give an opportunity for the Catholic statesmen to form a league for the utter extermination of Protestantism the world over; and, since the Protestant princes in France had been gained over, it became necessary for Elizabeth now to trim to the side of Spain. She soon began dropping hints to Guzman about her marrying a German, and assured him that she was a Catholic at heart, “although she had to conceal her real feelings to prevail with her subjects in matters of religion.”33 When, with the desire of turning her against the Protestants, he told her that preachers were slandering her because she had placed a crucifix on the altar of her chapel, she said that she would order crosses to be placed in all the churches, and then continued: “They also charge me with showing more favour to Robert than is fitting, speaking of me as if I were an immodest woman. I am not surprised that occasion for it should have been given by a young woman and a young man of good qualities, to whose merits and goodness I show favour, although not so much as he deserves; but God knows how great a slander it is, and a time will come when the world will know it. My life is open ... and I cannot understand how so bad a judgment can have been formed of me.” She then referred to the negotiations, which were still lingering on, for the marriage of Mary of Scotland with Don Carlos, of which she was evidently in great fear, and on the ambassador laughingly saying that Mary was more likely to marry the King of France, who was then only fifteen years of age, Elizabeth at once said that was impossible, as approaches had been made to marry him to her, “which, she was assured, was a more suitable marriage than that which your Majesty (Philip) had contracted with her sister.” She had, however, she said, laughed at it as a thing not to be spoken of considering their ages.” This was quite true, for CondÉ had suggested the matter to Sir Thomas Smith, the English ambassador in Paris, a year before, whilst the bickering was going on between them as to the terms of the peace and the repayment to the English of the cost of the aid given to the Huguenots.34 Smith had passed it over at the time as impossible, and the matter had gone no further; but only a month after the interview described above between Guzman and the Queen, the marriage of the latter with the boy Charles IX., who was barely half her age, was brought forward in a more authoritative form. When the Catholics were again dominant in Paris, and the objects of the Spanish and French rapprochement beyond doubt, Elizabeth had sent to the new Emperor Maximilian, ostensibly to condole with him on his father’s death, but really to reopen the negotiations for the marriage with the Archduke Charles. This action had to be met and parried by Catharine de Medici, who at this time—November, 1564—found herself getting rather more completely pledged than she liked to the Catholic and Spanish party, the complete success of which she knew would be her own downfall; and it was a characteristic stroke of policy of hers to propose so farcical a match as that of Charles IX. with Elizabeth, with the objects, first of hindering the negotiations with the Archduke Charles, secondly of keeping her own Huguenots in hand and preventing England from helping them, and thirdly to checkmate the attempts to marry Mary of Scotland to a Spanish prince. In one of her familiar chats with Smith, who followed her in her voyage through Southern France, she told him she would like to see her son married to the Queen of England. Smith was not sympathetic, but gave a full account of the conversation to Cecil, who clearly looked upon the proposal with equal dislike and incredulity. Very soon afterwards a more direct approach was made to Elizabeth herself, through one of those intriguing ladies of the Valois Court whom Brantome is so fond of describing. This was Madame de Crussol, who is stated to have worked for Catharine in sending Chastelard to Scotland for the express purpose of compromising and injuring Mary of Scotland.35 This woman wrote a long letter to Elizabeth hinting at the marriage, and shortly afterwards instructions were sent to Paul de Foix, the French ambassador in England, to make a formal offer to Elizabeth. The instructions arrived early in February, 1565, and de Foix was received by the Queen of England a few days afterwards. The interview took place at first in the presence-chamber, but on the ambassador saying that he had something secret to communicate, the Queen led him into her private apartment, where, after much high-flown compliment, he read to her Catharine’s despatch, saying that she would be the happiest of mothers if her dearly beloved sister would marry her son and become a daughter to her. She hastened to add that “she (Elizabeth) would find both in the body and mind of the King that which would please her.”36 Elizabeth blushed with satisfied vanity as much as confusion at this, expressed a deep sense of the honour done her, and deplored that she was not ten years younger. She was afraid she would be abandoned as her sister was, and foresaw the grave obstacles to such a match; but de Foix sought to reassure her by saying that the Queen-mother knew her age, and expected she would yet bear many children to her son. Elizabeth replied that she would rather die than be neglected; but still, though her people would prefer that she should marry an Englishman, there was none she could marry but the Earl of Arundel, “and he was as far off as the poles are asunder.” As for the Earl of Leicester, she had always esteemed his merit, but her sense of dignity would not allow her to endure him as a husband. It was agreed between the Queen and de Foix that the matter should be kept secret, and she promised him a reply shortly. The next day Cecil drew up one of his lucid Latin papers, setting forth in detail the many dangers and objections which would ensue from such a marriage, and the Queen at once repeated all of Cecil’s arguments to the French ambassador as her own, assuring him that she had not mentioned the matter to any one. The ambassador still pressed the King’s suit; she would have a husband in the flower of his youth, she would be certain to bear children, Parliament might certainly be induced to give its consent, and all the objections might be overcome by a wisely drafted treaty. But, said the Queen, who would bring the King to book if he violated it? Upon this de Foix lost patience, and said that as a consequence of the good reports he had sent to the Queen-mother with regard to Elizabeth’s disposition towards her son, she had thought of this match; but as he saw that her affections were placed elsewhere he would withdraw. This did not suit the Queen. She assured him she had not given a refusal, made him sit close by her, and thanked him warmly for the good report he had sent of her to his King, dismissing him at last with a promise to send Cecil to him in a couple of days. Cecil was certainly not in favour of the match, although Leicester affected to be so, thanks partly to the bribes sent to him from France, and partly because he considered the marriage an impracticable one. Cecil, indeed, was now almost ostentatiously leaning to the Catholic side, forcing the vestments on to the clergy, relaxing the persecution of the Catholics, and gaining praise even from the Spanish ambassador. If the new Emperor was going to fulfil the promises he had made to the Protestant princes who had elected him, and turn reformer, no husband would have been so favourable to England as the Archduke Charles, who would have disarmed Philip and the Catholics whilst satisfying the Protestants and avoiding the dangers to English independence which would arise from the marriage of the Queen with a prince of the reigning houses of France or Spain. When Cecil saw de Foix, therefore, he diplomatically combated the views advanced by the ambassador. When the latter remarked that the aid of France would for ever preserve England from danger, Cecil replied proudly that England had nothing to fear. At the end of the interview Cecil promised to put his objections to the match in writing; but when he was asked for the paper, some days afterwards, he refused it, and said that the Queen would go no further until she had a reply from Catharine to her remarks made to de Foix. Secretaries and couriers therefore went backwards and forwards actively for the next few months. This unwonted movement of messengers soon attracted the attention of the Spanish ambassador, who wrote, on the 15th of March: “The question of marriage is a difficult one, because if she weds Robert great dissatisfaction will be caused in the country, both amongst the higher classes and the common people. The Queen has told me several times that she wishes to marry, but not with Robert; and Robert himself has told me the same. Apart from this all eyes are fixed on the Archduke Charles, and I am informed that negotiations are actually going on about him through Robert.... Of Robert’s leaning towards the matter there is no doubt, in appearance, although it is impossible to say with what object. On the other hand, it is said that negotiations are afoot about the King of France, which the Queen herself told me, and it may be true now, because the French, having got wind of the Archduke’s affair, may wish to divert it. It may be also that, however great the disparity of years, they may be willing to overlook it in order to join this country to theirs. By the same rule this Queen may be listening to the Archduke for the purpose of stopping his negotiations with Scotland, and the French may be trying to beat her at her own game.”37 It will be seen by this how tangled was the diplomatic skein even to those contemporaries whose especial business it was to unravel it.

A week after the date of the letter just quoted, Guzman saw the Queen, when, as usual, she turned the conversation to the subject of marriages, and the ambassador slily hinted that there was some talk of her marrying the French king. She held down her head and giggled at this, and Guzman continued that the French ambassador had asked his opinion about the match, seeing that the King was so little and she so tall. “O!” said the Queen, “they tell me he is not very short; but as it is Lent, and you are my friend, I will make a confession to you. A proposal for marriage was formerly made to me by the King, my brother-in-law (Philip). The King of France has now made me an offer, as well as the Kings of Denmark and Sweden, and, I am told, the Archduke Charles also. The only person who has not been suggested is your prince (Don Carlos).” Guzman replied that the reason no doubt was that, as she had refused the King himself, it was concluded that she had no desire to marry, since no higher match could be proposed to her. She retorted that she did not consider such an inference clear: it is true that she had no desire to marry, and would not do so if she could appoint a satisfactory successor; but her people were pressing her, and she was now forced either to marry or nominate an heir, which would be difficult. “The world thinks that a woman cannot live unmarried, and, if she refrains from marriage, that she does so for some bad reason; as they said of me that I avoided doing so because I was fond of the Earl of Leicester, whom I could not marry, as he had a wife living. His wife is now dead, but yet I do not marry him, although I have been pressed to do so even by your King.”38 Elizabeth was getting very uneasy about the Franco-Spanish meeting at Bayonne and the rumoured voyage of Philip to the Netherlands with a strong force to crush Protestantism for good and for all; the idea of her marriage with Charles IX. was one eminently calculated to breed distrust of the French in the mind of Philip, and, as such, was being actively forwarded by the Huguenot party. When therefore de Foix, the French ambassador, saw her a few days afterwards she told him that she had refused to let Cecil put into writing his objections to the match, as promised, because the objections were really all reducible to one—namely, the question of disparity of age. She said that Smith had written lately, saying that the King had grown wonderfully, and that, when he had seen him after an interval of a few weeks, he hardly recognised him, as he had grown so tall, and he would no doubt be as tall as his father had been. De Foix afterwards sat next to the Queen at supper, when she was in very high spirits, and drank the King’s health, and during the entertainment which followed talked of nothing but the attractions of the French Court.39

Catharine de Medici on her side was just as eager in appearance for the match as Elizabeth—and probably equally insincere, since she too had her own game to play. She had a long talk about it with Smith in Bordeaux in April, in which she said that the ages seemed the principal objection, but if Elizabeth would put up with the youth of the King, she (Catharine) would put up with the age of the Queen; upon which the youthful suitor himself burst in with the remark that he hoped his mistress would be as satisfied of his age as he was of hers. Catharine went on to discuss the other two difficulties raised; namely, the objection to the Queen residing out of England, and the fear of the unpopularity of the match; but Smith declined to give any opinion upon the matter. It was clear, indeed, all through that the English ambassador would not commit himself in a negotiation which he felt to be a hollow one. He said his instructions were limited. If the King were a few years older, if he had seen the Queen and really liked her, he (Smith) would feel less astonishment at the present advances, but now—— “But really,” interrupted the King, “I do love her.” “Your Majesty does not know yet what love is,” said Smith, “but you will soon go through it. It is the most foolish, impotent and disrespectful thing possible.” The boy blushed at this, and his mother answered for him saying that his was not a foolish love. Perhaps not, said the ambassador, but it is just because it must rest upon very grave reasons and great and worthy considerations that it ought only to be undertaken after mature deliberation.40 Catharine pressed for a reply before the Bayonne meetings, which were fixed for the following month of May, but this Smith thought impossible. On the following day she again tackled Smith on the subject; and said that, as Cecil himself had had a son at fifteen or sixteen, the King’s age could not be made an objection. Secret as the negotiations were kept, Guzman in London was irritated and alarmed to see the coming and going of Huguenot secretaries, without being able to fathom the reasons, although it was evident that something was afoot. Both de Foix and he were ecclesiastics, and many were the feline passages of words that passed between them on the subject. There was really nothing at all going on, said de Foix, only mercantile affairs were being negotiated. Guzman did not believe him—as he was a Huguenot although an Archbishop—but still did not guess that the Queen’s marriage with Charles IX. was seriously being discussed. For some time he thought that the matter in hand was the marriage of the Queen and Leicester under French patronage, but at last in the middle of April the Queen could keep the secret from him no longer. He was sneering at the long delay at the arrival of a present of a coach and some camels that were being sent from Catharine to the Queen, when the latter told him he was jealous, and asked him what he would think if he found her one day Queen of France. He declined to consider such a hypothetical case, and the Queen, having said so much, tried to make light of the matter, saying that she knew nothing of all this coming and going of couriers that he talked about. He could get no further, and concludes his account of the interview thus: “She is very artful, wished to appear reserved and give the idea that there was no matter of importance afoot.”41 On the 20th of April de Foix pressed the Queen urgently for a reply. The interviews of Bayonne were fixed for the 20th of May, and if the King’s offer were rejected, his betrothal to a princess of the house of Austria would be arranged. Elizabeth put the ambassador off with vague professions of friendship which a week later changed into complaints that Catharine was unduly hurrying her.42 In fact, the insincere negotiations for the Queen’s marriage with Charles IX. could now be dropped, as they had served Elizabeth’s immediate purpose, and had brought a prince of the House of Austria once more into the meshes of her net.