Jean Correro, the Venetian ambassador, describes Anjou as being stronger built, of better colour, and more agreeable appearance than his brother, Charles IX., and says he was very fond of playing with the ladies of the palace; but Michaeli, another Venetian envoy, paints him in colours more familiar to us. “He is completely dominated,” he says, “by voluptuousness; covered with perfumes and essences. He wears a double row of rings, and pendants at his ears, and spends vast sums on shirts and clothes. He charms and beguiles women by lavishing upon them the most costly jewels and toys.”[55] Walsingham says that a portrait could not be sent to England, as it was forbidden to paint pictures of the King or his brothers, but a great French Catholic courtier[56] wrote to Walsingham, in the hope that he would transmit it to Elizabeth, the following glowing but insidious account of the young prince: “It is his misfortune that his portraits do not do him justice. Janet himself has not succeeded in depicting that certain something which nature has given him. His eyes, that gracious turn of the mouth when he speaks, that sweetness which wins over all who approach him, cannot be reproduced by pen or pencil. His hand is so beautiful that if it were turned it could not be more perfectly modelled. Do not ask me whether he has inspired the passion of love! He has conquered wherever he has cast his eyes, and yet is ignorant of one-hundredth part of his conquests. You have been persuaded that he has a leaning to the new religion, and might be brought to adopt it. Undeceive yourself. He was born a Catholic, he has lived the declared champion of Catholicism, and, believe me, he will live and die in the faith. I have, it is true, seen in his hands the psalms of Marot and other books of that sort, but he only had them to please a great Huguenot lady with whom he was in love. If the Queen, your mistress, be not satisfied with so worthy a person she will never marry. Henceforward the only thing for her to do is to vow perpetual celibacy.”
Things went smoothly for the first few weeks, although the French, warned by past experience, were determined not to be drawn too far unless Elizabeth showed signs of sincerity. But soon the Guises and the nobles of the league took fright, and the Pope’s Nuncio personally exhorted Anjou not to be driven into such a match with a heretic woman who was too old to hope for issue by him. He told him that “England, which he was well assured was the mark he chiefly shot at, might be achieved, and that right easily too, by the sword, to his great honour, and less inconvenience than by making so unfit a match.”[57] Walsingham, on the other hand, was not very active in pushing the suit. He evidently disbelieved in the Queen’s sincerity, and he was probably right in doing so, notwithstanding her professions to him of her desire for the match. Whatever may have been in the Queen’s own mind, the Walsingham Correspondence proves beyond question that the marriage was looked upon by Cecil as necessary at the time, and it would seem as if even Leicester and Walsingham were reluctantly drawn to the same opinion. Matters were indeed in a critical condition for England. The Ridolfi plot was brewing, the English Catholic nobles in a ferment, and the Pope, Philip, the league, and the Guises, ready to turn their whole power to the destruction of Elizabeth. Scotland was in revolt against the English faction, Alba was reported to be preparing for the invasion of England, and Thomas Stukeley was planning with Philip and the Pope his descent upon Ireland. It was a desperate, forlorn hope to think that the painted puppet in the hands of the Catholic party in France would change his religion for the sake of marrying Elizabeth, but for the moment there seemed no other chance of salvation for Protestant England. The Duke himself spoke slightingly of the Queen and the match. The Guises and the Spanish ambassador, says Walsingham, “do not stick to use dishonourable arguments to dissuade him from the same. They urge rather the conquest of England.” Cecil, on the 3rd of March, told Walsingham from the Queen that if he were approached on the subject he was to say that the Queen was convinced of the necessity of marriage for the welfare of her realm, and would only marry a prince. And then in a private note Cecil adds: “If God should order this marriage or any other to take place no time shall be wasted otherwise than honour should require. I am not able to discern what is best, but surely I see no continuance of her quietness without a marriage.” Leicester, even, seems to have believed in the match taking place. He says he was so anxious for a personal description of the Duke because he finds that matter is likely to come into question, “and I do perceive her Majesty more bent upon marrying than heretofore she has been. God make her fortunate therein.” Walsingham, in a letter to Leicester (March 9th) in reply, says the opinion is that “unless Anjou marries the Queen it will be most dangerous, as he will then turn to the Queen of Scots, since he must be provided for somewhere out of France.” This, indeed, was almost the only hopeful element in the situation, the absolute need for the young King and his mother to deprive the French Catholic nobles of their royal figurehead. Charles IX. and his mother tried their hardest to persuade Anjou to the marriage, but for a time without success. The Duke grew more and more scornful of the match under the influence of the monks by whom he was surrounded. The Huguenots, to whom it was a matter of life or death to get rid of the King’s brother as chief of their enemies, sent Téligny to Charles IX. to complain of the Duke’s attitude. The King replied that he was sufficient master of his brother to overcome every obstacle to the match unless it were that of religion. He said he would send his brother away from the Court so as to destroy the influence of the monks over him. Catharine at last despaired, and wrote to La Mothe deploring that Anjou spoke disparagingly of Elizabeth’s honour, and refused absolutely to marry her, notwithstanding all her prayers. “So, M. de La Mothe,” she adds, “you are on the point of losing such a kingdom as that for my children.” But a few days afterwards, by the aid of Cavalcanti, she apparently overcame her son’s scruples, and on the 18th of February she wrote more cheerfully to La Mothe, saying that Anjou had consented to marry the Queen if he were asked.
Two days after this Lord Buckhurst, with a brilliant suite, arrived in Paris, ostensibly to congratulate Charles IX. on his marriage, but with secret instructions from the Queen to negotiate with Catharine again about the Anjou match. Fêtes and banquets, masques and coursing, kept Buckhurst brilliantly busy until the eve of his departure, when Cavalcanti came and asked him whether he would not like to see the new gardens of the Tuilleries, of which Catharine was extremely proud. Buckhurst went, and of course found there the Queen-mother, who expressed pleasurable astonishment at the unexpected meeting. She was glad, she said, to have the opportunity before he left of expressing to him the friendship of the King and herself towards his mistress, and their desire to strengthen it when opportunity offered. Time was short, and Buckhurst did not beat about the bush. “Your Majesty doubtless refers to the marriage of the Queen and the Duke of Anjou,” he said. Catharine replied that if she and the King could feel sure that Elizabeth was not playing with them as she had done with others, they would be pleased with the match, always on condition that their honour did not suffer thereby. Buckhurst assured her that the Queen had instructed him to say that she was determined to marry a foreign prince, but as it was not becoming for a maiden to seek a husband, she could only say that when she was sought she would prove to them that no mockery need be feared. Buckhurst tried very hard to draw Catharine into a direct offer of her son’s hand, but she would only say that if the Queen really wished to marry they were quite ready to enter into negotiations. Before Buckhurst left the next day, however, she sent him a written offer of her son’s hand to the Queen, on certain conditions to be arranged. Elizabeth’s attitude when she received this offer by Buckhurst convinces us that, however earnest some of her councillors may have been to bring about the marriage, she herself was playing her usual trick. On the 24th of March she wrote to Walsingham, telling him of the offer made to her through Buckhurst. It was her wish, she said, that only Walsingham and de Foix should deal with the matter. It was her intention to marry some person of royal blood, and Walsingham was to tell the Queen-mother that his mistress knew full well that it had been reported that she did not intend to marry, but only to hear offers and “bruits of marriage from persons of great estate and then reject them.” She was grieved to be so misunderstood. It is true that at the beginning of her reign she desired to live single, but the Queen-mother must recollect whom it was she rejected and how inconvenient such a marriage would have been. This, of course, referred to Philip II.’s offer, and was a very adroit turn, considering Catharine’s own feelings towards her erstwhile son-in-law. Walsingham was, indeed, instructed to take credit for his mistress’s abnegation and nobleness in refusing such a match. She was now resolved to marry, he was to say; but through all the instructions she cleverly avoided giving any specific pledge or encouragement to Anjou personally. Her language, indeed, is almost the same as that which she had employed eleven years before with the Austrian suitors. Amongst the characteristic passages in her letter is one in which she says that the Queen-mother’s experience in marriage affairs would enable her to do all that was fitting in the case without pressing Elizabeth to take too direct a part: “Pray the Queen-mother not to be over curious as desiring so precise an answer until the matter may be further treated of and explained, and not to think it any touch to the honour of her son to be named as a suitor to us, as others of as great degree have been, though the motions took no effect, rather for other impediments than for any mislike of their persons.”[58] He was not to say more than needful about the conditions; but if he were pressed he was to suggest those adopted on Mary Tudor’s marriage with Philip II. There was no desire, said Elizabeth, to urge Anjou to any change of conscience, but he could not be allowed to exercise in England a religion prohibited by the law, and must attend the Anglican Church for form’s sake. Above all, the Queen-mother was to be assured that, whatever might be said to the contrary, Leicester was “ready to allow of any marriage that we shall like.”
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[59] 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.
Henry de Valois, Duke of Anjou (Henry III.).
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: (1) No ceremonies were to be used at the marriage but those in accordance with the religion of Monseigneur. (2) That he and his household should be allowed the free exercise of their religion. (3) That immediately after the marriage he should receive the title of king and govern and administer the country jointly with the Queen. (4) That he should be crowned after the consummation of the marriage. (5) That he should receive from the English revenues a life pension of £60,000 sterling a year. (6) 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. (7) 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. (8) 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 (Hist. MSS. Com.), 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.
Matters, however, were not brought even to this point without a great deal of finesse and wrangling between La Mothe and the Queen and many long interviews with Cecil and Leicester. When Cavalcanti was about to depart La Mothe begged the Queen to write a letter to Anjou in answer to one he had sent to her. She, of course, was shocked; she had never done such a thing, the pen would fall from her hand, she would not know what to say, and so on. But the letter was written nevertheless, and a very curious production it is, full of worldly wisdom about the marriage proposals, but with plenty of fulsome flattery of Anjou’s beauty, of his lovely hand, and his gifts of mind and body. She apparently thought herself entitled to a little flattery from La Mothe in return, and sighed that whilst in seven or eight years the Duke would be better looking than ever, she would have grown old. She then asked whether any one had spoken to the Duke about her foot, her arm, “and other things she did not mention,” and said she thought the Duke very desirable, to which La Mothe replied, nothing loath, that they were both “very desirable,” and it was a pity they were so long debarred from enjoying each other’s perfections.[60]