A clause from Sidney's passport, issued in the queen's name, shows for what purpose her young courtier was sent abroad: "Her truly and well-beloved Philip Sidney, Esquire, licensed to go out of England into parts beyond the seas, with three servants, four horses, and all other requisites, and to remain the space of two years immediately following his departure out of the realm, for his attaining the knowledge of foreign languages."
For reasons of Church and State, Lincoln's mission to France failed, and Sidney was left free to spend the time of his voluntary exile at his own discretion. He wisely chose to remain abroad, and spent nearly three years traveling in France, Germany, and Italy. But these three years were not given up to sight-seeing and social enjoyment. Sidney devoted his time to studying literature, science, music, foreign languages, and the politics of the day.
For two great reasons this last subject was of most vital interest to him: it was the time of a great religious upheaval throughout Europe, and also the time of the ambitious aggressions of Spain under Philip II.
Sidney, an ardent adherent of the Church of England, conceived the idea of championing his beloved faith, even as the knights of old had championed theirs. Then, too, his whole heart was with his native country in her rapid rise to a place of power among the nations of earth, and he recognized Spain as an ever-present menace to her advancement.
His sympathies were especially aroused for the condition of the harassed Netherlands, to the complete subjugation of which Spain was then bending her strongest efforts. Then it was that Sidney's chivalric spirit took fire with hope,—the hope that his beloved England would rise and deliver the oppressed, and that he, her son, would be allowed to be her humble instrument in the great and glorious work.
All that was seething in his fertile brain he wrote from time to time to England; and he kept her statesmen informed of the state of foreign politics in a time when newspapers and telegraph lines had not been dreamed of. All unconsciously, he was making a name for himself in England; and when he returned, at the age of twenty-one, he found that he had established for himself a reputation as politician, statesman, and man of letters.
While abroad, Sidney had been associated with "many men of many minds." He had learned to think and feel deeply on deep subjects, and had formed definite ideals as to a man's proper part in life. He came back to his native land with his young heart filled with hopes that were never to be realized—at least, not in the way that he had conceived. It is true that he was one of a brilliant circle of men who made the England of Elizabeth's time great by the very greatness that was theirs; but the England of Elizabeth's time was not the England of Sidney's hopes, and a courtiership under the virgin queen was the vanity of vanities to his heroic spirit. From that time on, life was a struggle to him—a struggle to live nobly amid a court given over to pleasure; a struggle to revive the spirit of chivalry among men who were already forgetting the very name.
Shortly after Sidney's return from abroad, and while he was in high favor at court, it pleased the queen to make a "royal progress" through a portion of her realm. These "progresses" were journeys through certain parts of the kingdom, broken by visits to favored nobles at their magnificent castles or halls. On these tours, the queen was always brilliantly attended by ladies and gentlemen of her court; and the subjects whom she pleased to visit devised for her the most gorgeous and sumptuous entertainment.
Sidney had the good or bad fortune to be in attendance on her Majesty during this progress, for it was then that he first met and admired little Penelope Devereux. It was while her Majesty and train were stopping to visit the Earl of Essex at Chartley Castle that the meeting between the two young people took place. Lady Penelope, daughter of the Earl of Essex, was then only twelve years of age, but she was a maiden well grown for her years, and extremely beautiful; so it is not to be wondered at that Sidney—so old in worldly wisdom, but so young in years—should have been fascinated by the little maid's grace and beauty. The two frolicked and danced together at Chartley, and though there were no vows of love exchanged between them then, that visit was the beginning of a friendship which was to ripen into the passion of Sidney's life. It was also the beginning of another friendship, and one which proved far happier for Sidney. The Earl of Essex conceived a deep love and admiration for him, and invited him often to Chartley, making him—young though he was—his bosom friend.
Afterwards, when Essex incurred the deep displeasure of Queen Elizabeth, Sidney was one of the few courtiers who dared to show him open friendship,—thus tacitly condemning the action of the queen, who, in truth, was at fault.