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THE COURTSHIPS OF QUEEN ELIZABETH

A HISTORY OF THE VARIOUS NEGOTIATIONS FOR HER MARRIAGE BY MARTIN A. S. HUME, F. R. HIST. S. EDITOR OF THE CALENDAR OF SPANISH STATE PAPERS OF ELIZABETH

"AND THE IMPERIAL VOTARESS PASSED ON IN MAIDEN MEDITATION FANCY FREE"

NEW YORK: MACMILLAN & Co. LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN MDCCCXCVI

PREFACE

It has been my pleasant duty to consider carefully in chronological order a great mass of diplomatic documents of the time of Elizabeth, in which are reflected, almost from day to day, the continually shifting aspects of political affairs, and the varying attitudes of the Queen and her ministers in dealing therewith. I have been struck with the failure of most historians of the time, who have painted their pictures with a large brush, to explain or adequately account for what is so often looked upon as the perverse fickleness of perhaps the greatest sovereign that ever occupied the English throne; and I have come to the conclusion that the best way in which a just appreciation can be formed of the fixity of purpose and consummate statecraft which underlay her apparent levity, is to follow in close detail the varying circumstances and combinations which prompted the bewildering mutability of her policy.

To do this through the whole of the events of a long and important reign would be beyond the powers of an ordinary student, and the attempt would probably end in confusion. I have therefore considered it best to limit myself in this book to one set of negotiations, those which relate to the Queen's proposed marriage, running through many years of her reign: and I trust that, however imperfectly my task may have been effected, the facts set forth may enable the reader to perceive more clearly than hitherto, that capricious, even frivolous, as the Queen's methods appear to be, her main object was rarely neglected or lost sight of during the long continuance of these negotiations.

That a strong modern England was rendered possible mainly by the boldness, astuteness, and activity of Elizabeth at the critical turning-point of European history is generally admitted; but how masterly her policy was, and how entirely personal to herself, is even yet perhaps not fully understood. I have therefore endeavoured in this book to follow closely from end to end one strand only of the complicated texture, in the hope that I may succeed by this means in exhibiting the general process by which England, under the guidance of the great Tudor Queen, was able to emerge regenerated and triumphant from the struggle which was to settle the fate of the world for centuries to come.

MARTIN A. S. HUME.

ROBERT DUDLEY, EARL OF LEICESTER 64

HENRY DE VALOIS, DUKE OF ANJOU 128

FRAN?OIS DE VALOIS DUKE OF ALEN?ON 272

Character of Elizabeth and her contemporaries--Main object of her policy--Youth of Elizabeth--The Duke of Angoul?me-- Philip of Spain--Seymour and Catharine Parr--Mrs. Ashley's and Parry's confessions--Execution of Seymour--Proposed marriage of Elizabeth with a son of the Duke of Ferrara-- With a son of Hans Frederick of Saxony--Courtney--Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy--Prince Eric of Sweden--Death of Queen Mary--The Earl of Arundel.

When, subsequent to the death of the Queen Dowager, a short year afterwards, her husband's ambitious schemes had aroused the jealousy of his all-powerful brother, one of the charges made against him was that he had planned to marry the Princess Elizabeth and use her as one of his instruments for obtaining supreme power. The original confessions and declarations of those who were supposed to be concerned with him in the plot, which are still amongst Lord Salisbury's papers at Hatfield, were published in full many years ago by Haynes, and have more recently been calendared by the Historical MSS. Commission. They have been used by all historians of the times, and there is no intention of repeating here fully the oft-told story divulged by these curious declarations. It is needless to say that they disclose scandalous treatment of a young and sensitive girl both by Seymour and Catharine Parr, even after allowing for the free manners then prevalent. It is difficult to understand, indeed, what can have been Seymour's real intention towards the Princess, unless it was the guilty satisfaction of his own passions. His wife was young and healthy, and in the natural course of events might have been expected to live long, so that he could hardly have looked forward to his marriage with Elizabeth; and yet Mrs. Ashley, her governess, confessed in the Tower in February, 1549, that Seymour was in the habit of visiting the girl's bedroom before she was dressed, sometimes by himself and sometimes with his wife, and there indulged in much indelicate and suggestive romping, in which Catharine Parr herself occasionally took part. Thomas Parry, the cofferer, repeats in his confession a story told him by Mrs. Ashley which carries the matter somewhat further. "She said the Lord Admiral loved the Lady Elizabeth but too well, and had done so for a good while, and this was the cause that the Queen was jealous of him and Lady Elizabeth. On one occasion the Queen coming suddenly upon them had found him holding the Lady Elizabeth in his arms; upon which she fell out with them both, and this was the cause why the Queen and Lady Elizabeth parted."

When the Master of the Household and Denny suddenly arrived at Hatfield to interrogate the household as to their communications with Seymour Parry quite lost his head, "went to his own chamber and said to his wife, 'I would I had never been born, for I am undone,' and wrung his hands, cast away his chain from his neck and his rings from his fingers."

Elizabeth's profound diplomacy and quick intelligence were shown even thus early at this critical juncture. Sir Robert Tyrwhitt and his wife were sent by the Protector to worm out of her all she knew of the plot. Threats, cajolery, forged letters and invented confessions, were all tried upon her in vain. She would tell nothing of importance. "She hath," says Tyrwhitt, "a very good wit and nothing is gotten of her but by great policy." She bitterly resented the imprisonment of her governess, Mrs. Ashley, and the substitution of Lady Tyrwhitt; and said that she had not so behaved that they need put more mistresses upon her; wept all night and sulked all day, but withal was too much for Tyrwhitt, who avowed that "if he had to say his fantasy he thinks it more meet she should have two governesses than one."

The confessions of Parry and Ashley with regard to Elizabeth's conduct, and their own, are bad enough; but they probably kept back far more than they told, for on Elizabeth's succession, and for the rest of their lives, they were treated with marked favour: Parry was knighted and made Treasurer of the Household, and on Mrs. Ashley's death in July, 1565, the Queen visited her in person and mourned her with great grief. It is probable that the inexperienced girl was really in love with the handsome, showy Seymour; but how far their relations went will most likely never now be known. She indignantly wrote to the Protector complaining of the slanders that were current about her, to the effect that she was with child by the Lord Admiral and demanded to be allowed to come to Court and "show herself as she was"; but virtuous indignation, real and assumed, was always one of her favourite weapons. Tyrwhitt said he believed a secret compact had been entered into between her and Ashley and Parry never to confess during their lives. "They all sing one song and she hath set the note for them."

After this dangerous escapade and the execution of Seymour, Elizabeth became almost ostentatiously saintly and straitlaced, until the accession of her sister made her the heiress presumptive to the crown and the hope of the Protestant party, now that Northumberland's nominees had been disposed of. Even before this event, the reforming party in England were anxious to further strengthen themselves by allying her to a foreign prince of Protestant leanings, not powerful enough to force her claims to the crown upon them, but of sufficient weight to give them moral support, whilst removing her from the way in England. As early as August, 1551, Northumberland had put his agents upon the alert on the Continent to find a suitable match for her, and one of them, Sir Anthony Guidotti, says that the Duke of Guise had suggested the Duke of Ferrara's son, "who was one of the goodliest young men of all Italy." The youth was a son of that Ren?e of France, Duchess of Ferrara, who vied with her kinswoman, Jeanne d'Albret, in her attachment to the reformed faith, but Northumberland would hardly accept the recommendation of the Guises as disinterested; and the matter went no further. The same agent suggests that the son of the Duke of Florence who was then only eleven years old might do, and "if this party were liked it were an easy matter to be concluded without any excessive dote." This was less likely to please even than the previous proposal, and nothing was done; but the Ferrara family were apparently anxious for the connection, and early in 1553 Sir Richard Morysine, the English envoy in Antwerp, wrote to the Council reporting that Francesco d'Este, the brother of the Duke of Ferrara, had approached him on the matter and had asked for a description of the Princess. Morysine replied that "If God had made her Grace a poor man's daughter he did not know of a prince that might not think himself happy to be the husband of such a lady," and added that d'Este was of the same opinion "at present." A much more likely match had been privately suggested to Cecil by Morysine shortly before this. "Hans Frederick's second son, who is the goodlier gentleman, would, if he durst, bear a great affection towards the Lady Elizabeth's grace. The land in Germany is divided, and as much comes to the second son as to the eldest, which eldest is thought to be of no long life. Were Dukes Maurice and Frederick to die their lands go to Hans Frederick's sons." But the collapse of Northumberland and the accession of Mary entirely changed Elizabeth's prospects, so that her marriage had to be considered in conjunction with Mary's own, and the capture of the Queen by the Spanish interest made it desirable to secure her sister if possible for the same side. In the autumn of 1553, Simon Renard had suggested to Mary a marriage between herself and Prince Philip. She herself was in grave doubt at that time and afterwards as to its wisdom or practicability. Young Courtney had been designated by the public voice as the most fitting consort for her; and although the romantic theories of many historians as to her supposed attachment to him are unsupported by a single shred of evidence, it is certain that for a time she seriously contemplated the wisdom of conciliating English feeling by marrying the man who was one of her first competitors for the possession of the throne. Gradually, however, Renard, with his logical persuasiveness, convinced her that she would acquire more strength by an alliance with the only son of the Emperor than by a marriage "with one of her own vassals, without credit, power, or assistance, who has seen and knows nothing of the world, having been reared in servitude and never left England."

The Swedish ambassador was to have been openly reproved by the Queen before the whole Court, but the Queen thought better of it, and received him in the presence of Gardiner and the Marquis of Winchester only. She dismissed him curtly--almost rudely--and told him that after committing such a breach of etiquette as to deliver a letter to her sister before presenting his credentials, he had better go home and never come back to England with such a message as that again. Before Feria left England to see his master in July, 1558, he visited Elizabeth at Hatfield, and did his best to persuade her that she had all Philip's sympathy, and that her safe course would be to adhere to the Spanish connection. He was no match for her in diplomacy even then, and got nothing but smiles and genial generalities. In November Mary was dying, and Dassonleville, the Flemish agent, wrote to the King begging him to send Feria back again to forward Spanish interests, "as the common people are so full of projects for marrying Madam Elizabeth to the Earl of Arundel or some one else." On the 8th of November a committee of the Council went to Hatfield to see Elizabeth and deliver to her the dying Queen's message, begging her "when she should be Queen to maintain the Catholic Church and pay her debts." Elizabeth would pledge herself to nothing. She knew now that she must succeed, with or without Mary's good-will, and she meant to have a free hand. Before the Queen died even, Feria, who had arrived when she was already almost unconscious, hastened to Hatfield to see the coming Queen. So long as he confined himself to courteous commonplace she answered him in the same spirit, but as soon as he began to patronise her and hint that she owed her coming crown to the intervention and support of Philip, she stopped him at once, and said that she would owe it only to her people. She was equally firm and queenly when Feria thus early hinted at her marriage with her Spanish brother-in-law before the breath was out of Mary's body, and showed a firm determination to hold her own and resist all attempts to place her under the tutelage of Philip. A week afterwards the Queen died, and then began the keen contest of wits around the matrimonial possibilities of Elizabeth, which ended in the making of modern England.

The first letter that Feria wrote to Philip after the new Queen's accession indicated how powerless had been all his blandishments to pledge Elizabeth. "The new Queen and her people," he says, "hold themselves free from your Majesty, and will listen to any ambassadors who may come to treat of marriage. Your Majesty understands better than I how important it is that this affair should go through your hands, which ... will be difficult except with great negotiation and money. I wish, therefore, your Majesty to keep in view all the steps to be taken on your behalf; one of them being that the Emperor should not send any ambassador here to treat of this, for it would be inconvenient enough for Ferdinand to marry here even if he took the titbit from your Majesty's hand, but very much worse if it were arranged in any other way. For the present, I know for certain they will not hear the name of the Duke of Savoy mentioned, as they fear he will want to recover his estates with English forces, and will keep them constantly at war. I am very pleased to see that the nobles are beginning to open their eyes to the fact that it will not do to marry this woman in the country itself.... The more I think over this business the more certain I am that everything depends upon the husband this woman may take. If he be a suitable one, religious matters will go on well, and the kingdom will remain friendly with your Majesty, but if not it will all be spoilt. If she decide to marry out of the country she will at once fix her eyes on your Majesty, although some of them here are sure to pitch upon the Archduke Ferdinand." Feria was wrong in his estimate of Elizabeth's character. From the first she had determined to be a popular sovereign, and all observers remarked her almost undignified anxiety to catch the cheers of the crowd. She knew that the most unpopular step she could take would be one that bound her interests to Spain, and particularly a marriage with Philip. A French marriage was impossible, for the heir to the crown of France was married to Mary Stuart, whose legal right to the English throne was undoubtedly stronger than that of Elizabeth herself.

So the Englishmen began to pluck up heart and to think that the great prize might fall to one of them. Early in December the Earl of Arundel came over from Flanders, and Feria remarks in one of his letters that he had seen him at the palace, "looking very smart and clean, and they say he carries his thoughts very high." He was a widower of mature age, foppish and foolish, but, with the exception of his son-in-law, the Duke of Norfolk, the only English noble whose position and descent were such as to enable him without impropriety to aspire to mate with royalty, and for a short time after his arrival he was certainly looked upon by the populace as the most likely husband for the young Queen.

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."

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 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 downwards." 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 , 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." 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."

In the meanwhile Dudley and Pickering were manoeuvring 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." 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; 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."

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 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 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 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 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."

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, 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.

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.

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 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.

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." 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 , 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."

To satisfy the powerful combination which was determined to press the Archduke's cause, it was decided that the Earl of Sussex should be sent with the Garter to the Emperor, with powers to discuss the terms of marriage; but Leicester and the French managed, by casting doubts and raising difficulties, to delay his departure. Norfolk was brought up to London to exert his influence, and for several months again the Court was a hot-bed of intrigue, in which Norfolk, Sussex, and the Conservative party, aided by Guzman, and cautiously supported by Cecil and Bacon, were pitted against Leicester and the French ambassador. From day to day the fickle Queen changed. First Sussex was to be hurried off at once, then he was to go after Shrovetide; then when he had prepared for his journey Elizabeth told him he would not leave so quickly as he thought. With Leicester, too, she was equally changeable, one day turning her back upon him, and the next begging the Spanish ambassador to be friendly with him. On one occasion in February, 1567, when the Council had progressed very far in the settlement of Sussex's instructions, Leicester's Puritan friends again brought up the matter of the succession in order to embroil matters and embarrass the Queen; but she put her foot down firmly then, and they dropped the subject in a fright. This having failed, they renewed their agitation for an inquiry into the conduct of Sussex as Viceroy of Ireland; but out of this honest Ratcliff emerged triumphant, to the sorrow of his enemies. At last Sussex got tired of the constant quarrelling, and begged for leave to go home, which was refused, and some sort of reconciliation was patched up between him and Leicester. In view of almost hourly changes in the Queen's matrimonial attitude, and the certainty that the Leicester party would after all try to wreck the Archduke's suit on the religious conditions, Sussex firmly refused to undertake the embassy to the Emperor, unless he had precise orders signed by the Queen as to the terms he might accept, "as he was determined not to deceive the Emperor." At last, after infinite trouble, Sussex was despatched at the end of June, 1567, bearing full instructions to negotiate the marriage. He was to raise no great difficulty except on two points: first the question of the Archduke's income, and secondly that of religion. He was to say that "the Queen will take care that he wants for nothing, but she does not wish her people to think she had married a man too poor to keep himself." The Archduke might privately hear Mass in his own chamber, but must conform outwardly to the law of England and accompany the Queen to Protestant service publicly.

It was felt by all those who favoured the match that the Spanish ambassadors in London and Vienna might have been more cordial in their support of it than they were; and both the Queen and Sussex were for ever trying to get at Philip's real desires in the matter. With the papers now before us, we see that if the Emperor was to be induced to give way on the question of religion, and England was to remain Protestant, the marriage would injure rather than benefit Philip's plans; whilst a thoroughly Catholic match, by which Elizabeth would have submitted to the Pope, would have cut the ground from under her feet and made her the humble servant of Spain. This she knew better than any one, and however much Philip may have again deceived himself in the matter, there was never a shadow of a chance of such a match being made by her or consented to by her wisest councillors. Upon this rock the matrimonial hopes of the Archduke again split. Sussex remained with the Emperor until February, 1568, probably the only prominent English statesman who was sincere or honest in the negotiations, but was at last himself undeceived, and begged for his recall in deep disappointment and resentment against Leicester and his party, upon whom he laid the blame of the failure of his mission. A decent pretence was assumed on both sides that the project was still pending; and the Emperor was invested with the Garter with great pomp; but the matter was practically at an end on the departure of Sussex from Vienna: not altogether to Philip's displeasure, as he had lost all belief in the Queen's matrimonial professions, and was daily becoming more convinced of the impossibility of her humbling herself to the extent of accepting the Catholic conditions by which alone a marriage with his kinsman would be advantageous to him. Elizabeth, too, was in a better position now than she had been to drop the hollow negotiations, since the civil war in France, and Philip's own difficulties in the Netherlands and the South of Europe, secured her from present danger from either power, whilst the standing menace of Scotland had disappeared for the first time for years, as Mary was a prisoner with a cloud of doubt and disgrace hanging over her head.

Marriage with the Duke of Anjou suggested--Guido Cavalcanti and La Mothe's negotiations--Walsingham's description of Anjou-- Anjou's religious scruples--His objections overcome--Lord Buckhurst's mission to Paris--Anjou's conditions--Religious difficulties--The Ridolfi plot--Anjou obstinate again-- Smith's mission to France--Marriage with the Duke of Alen?on suggested--Great disparity of age.

Walsingham, replying on the 28th, says he has had a good opportunity of seeing the prince, and describes him as being three inches taller than himself , somewhat sallow, "his body verie good shape, his legs long and thin but reasonably well proportioned. What helps he had to supply any defects of nature I know not. Touching the health of his person I find the opinion diverse and I know not what to credit, but for my part I forbeare to be over curious in the search thereof, for divers respects. If all be as well as outwardly it showeth he is of bodie sound enough. And yet at this present I do not find him so well coloured as when I was last here." He goes on to describe him as being haughty at first approach, but really more affable than either of his brothers. It will be seen that Walsingham, Puritan and ally of Leicester, was not very favourable to the match, and he was indeed regarded as opposed to it in the French Court.

When Walsingham received this ambiguous letter things in Paris were looking less favourable. Unstable Anjou had again veered round to the Catholic side, and Spanish intrigues were active all over Europe to prevent the marriage. Anjou had just told de Foix that he knew it was "all dalliance," and reproached him for drawing him so far in the match. "I will take no step forward," said the prince, "unless a decisive reply is sent from England." When Walsingham learnt this from de Foix he saw that it would be unwise to repeat his mistress's words about religion, and simply told the Queen-mother that Elizabeth was disposed to accept the hand of the Duke of Anjou. But this was too dry an answer for Catharine, who well knew that affairs could not be arranged so easily, and told Walsingham as much. He replied that as Elizabeth did not wish La Mothe in London to deal with the affair, all points at issue might be settled by sending de Foix thither, which Catharine promised should be done shortly, but at present she preferred to send a "neutre," as she called Cavalcanti, upon whose penetration and faithfulness to her she knew she could depend. It is clear that she still distrusted Elizabeth's sincerity, and she was undoubtedly correct in doing so. Leicester's letters to Walsingham at the same time show that his mind ran in the same groove as that of the Queen. The Queen, he said, was determined to marry, but "wished to deal privately, for less reproach to both parties if nothing came of it." "The person of Monsieur is well liked of, but his conversation is harder to know." There was no difficulty about Anjou's person or estate, he said, but the Queen was firm about religion; whereat he, Leicester, rejoiced, and hoped that God would always keep her firm therein. He well knew that upon that rock he could always split the marriage barque when it looked too much like entering port.

Cavalcanti, who had only just returned from London and who could better than any man fathom the inner feelings of the English Court, doubtless made his mistress acquainted with the true state of affairs; and was again sent back to England with a draft of the conditions proposed on behalf of Anjou, which shows clearly the determination of Catharine that there should be no ambiguity in her son's position. Cavalcanti arrived in London on the 11th of April, 1571, but did not present his conditions until La Mothe had made a formal offer, in the name of the King of France, of his brother's hand. The Duke, he said, had long felt great admiration and affection for her, to which the Queen replied that the matter had already been mentioned to her by others. She then elaborately excused herself for the delay that had attended her other marriage negotiations, promised that no cause for complaint in this respect should exist in the present instance, and hoped that the French would not be too exacting on the point of religion. The next day they came to business. Cecil and Leicester were deputed to examine the draft contract; and Cecil's copy thereof is still at Hatfield and is printed by the Historical MSS. Commission in the Hatfield Papers, part 2.

The proposals, which are evidently such as Elizabeth could never have accepted, may be summarised as follows: No ceremonies were to be used at the marriage but those in accordance with the religion of Monseigneur. That he and his household should be allowed the free exercise of their religion. That immediately after the marriage he should receive the title of king and govern and administer the country jointly with the Queen. That he should be crowned after the consummation of the marriage. That he should receive from the English revenues a life pension of ?60,000 sterling a year. That the issue of the marriage should succeed to the paternal and maternal properties in conformity with the laws of the countries where such property may be situate. That in the event of the Queen's predeceasing her husband and leaving issue he was to govern the country as king on their behalf. In case there were no issue Anjou was to still be paid his pension of ?60,000 for life.

On the 14th Cecil submitted to the Queen the draft answer to be sent to these proposals, and after some alterations were made in it, Cavalcanti started for France with the English terms on the 17th of April. This able State paper will also be found entire in part 2 of the Hatfield Papers , and appears to be a sincere attempt on the part of Cecil to compromise matters, although there are two or three points upon which the Queen probably depended to raise further difficulties if necessary to prevent the match. The marriage was to be celebrated according to the English rites, but Anjou's ministers might attend as witnesses, so far as might be necessary to legalise the marriage from his point of view. The Duke, however, was not required to act against his conscience if any of the ceremonies were openly offensive to the Catholic religion. Neither he nor his household were to be compelled against their conscience to attend Anglican worship, but the Queen's consort was expected to accompany her to church at suitable and accustomed times. He was forbidden to attempt to change any of the ecclesiastical laws or customs of England, or to favour those who violated them. He was not to allow, so far as he could help, the ceremonies of the English Church to be despised. He was to have the title of king and his status was to be fixed by the precedent of Philip and Mary, but he was not to be crowned. The Queen would undertake to supply him with such sums from the Treasury as she might consider necessary for the proper maintenance of his position. The French demands with regard to the issue of the marriage were practically conceded, but the demand for a life pension to continue even after the death of the Queen was refused.

On the 20th of May Walsingham saw the Queen-mother at Gaillon and laid before her the strong arguments which Elizabeth had for insisting upon the law of England being respected in the matter of the celebration of the Catholic religion. Catharine was forced to admit their weight, and said that she must consult the King and Anjou about them. Walsingham then went to see the Duke himself. He exerted on the young prince all his powers of persuasion; palliating and minimising points of difference, and suggesting compromise, but all to no purpose. "The Queen," said Anjou, "is, I am told, the rarest creature that was in Europe these 500 years." But this was a matter that touched his soul and conscience, and he could not forsake his faith even for such a prize.

The next day Walsingham saw the King and his mother to beg them to exert pressure on Anjou. Let the Queen of England send her amended demands as promised, said they, and all reasonable concessions shall be made. De Foix and Montmorenci should be sent to England to conclude the treaty when the heads were agreed upon, and in the meanwhile efforts should be made to win over Anjou somewhat. De Foix himself was hardly so hopeful. He had done, he said, all that mortal man could do to persuade the Duke; but the constant influence of the Guises and their friends rendered the matter more and more difficult: "Monsieur being by them persuaded that it would be his hap to march with the forsaken." If, said de Foix, the Queen persisted in forbidding her husband the exercise of his faith the matter was at an end. But withal Walsingham thought this was simply bluff, and was assured by some great Huguenot noble whom he does not name, but who was probably Coligny, that if the Queen stood firm she would have her way.

In the meanwhile the Guises were moving heaven and earth to stop, or at least delay, the match, and that between Henry of Navarre and the King's sister Margaret. Better marriages both for brother and sister were promised. Hopes of the crown of Poland were held out to Anjou, detraction of Elizabeth was spread broadcast, plots in favour of Mary Stuart and plans to marry her went on unceasingly. Poor weak Anjou was wafted from side to side like a straw upon the wind. When Cavalcanti took the Duke's portrait to England he carried with him also that of the Princess of Cleves, to whom it was suggested Leicester might be married as a consolation. Marshal Tavannes thereupon told Anjou that since he was going to marry Leicester's mistress he had better return the compliment by marrying Leicester to his, Anjou's, mistress, Mdlle. Chateauneuf.

Sir Thomas Smith and Killigrew arrived at Amboise, where the Court was, on January 1, 1572. His first interview was with de Foix, who assured him that Anjou was still firm on the question of religion. Smith said he did not think the last word had been said on that matter, but refrained from appearing anxious for an audience of the Queen-mother or the King until Coligny and Montmorenci had been sounded as to the best mode of procedure. De Foix went so far as to say that Anjou was religious mad, whereupon Smith replied that if he thought the Duke was really obstinate about it he "would soon turn tail," and thus save his mistress's honour. It is very evident that Smith had no belief in Anjou's devotion, for he tells Cecil that his "religion was really fixed on Mdlle. Chateauneuf, and now in another place."

In the meanwhile the "rough hewing" of the treaty of alliance went on, but to all attempts to draw him about the Alen?on proposals Smith was dumb until he could receive instructions from England, which did not come; so the indispensable Cavalcanti was sent over to broach the matter there. La Mothe F?n?lon, the French ambassador in England, had some months before looked coldly upon the suggestion of a match between Alen?on and the Queen, and had told Catharine that he feared such a proposal would cause offence; but, urged by the Queen-mother and her emissary, Cavalcanti, he broached the matter to Cecil one day at the end of January as he was coming from a long interview with the Queen. Have you spoken to the Queen about it? said Cecil. La Mothe said he had not, and Cecil told him to keep it secret until they two had put themselves in accord on the subject. Smith's repeated letters in favour of the idea, and La Mothe's advances, at last decided him to open the suggestion to the Queen. She naturally at once objected to the great disparity of ages--she was nearly thirty-nine and Alen?on was not seventeen--and then she asked Cecil what was Alen?on's exact height. He is about as tall as I am, replied the lord treasurer. "You mean as tall as your grandson," snapped the Queen, and closed the conversation. Elizabeth's vanity had been wounded by the way in which the French had played fast and loose with her about Anjou, and she was somewhat restive; but Cecil and most of the English ministers were better pleased with Alen?on than with his brother, first because he had been always attached to the Huguenots by his diplomatic mother, and would make no difficulty about religion; and secondly, as he was not the next heir to the French crown, the danger which might arise in the event of his succession was more remote.

On Sunday, the 9th of February, a grand masque and tourney were given by Catharine de Medici, apparently for the purpose of showing off her youngest son to the English envoys. He and his brother the King, splendidly dressed and mounted, with six followers aside, tilted at the ring, the Queen-mother the meanwhile pointing out the perfections of the younger, who, she told Killigrew, was rather richer than his brother Anjou.

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