At the same time Dr. Wotton was to be instructed to go to Philip, and assure him emphatically, that the Queen was determined to remain friendly with him, and to let the whole world see it. She had had some hints that the French would like to approach her separately, but Philip “shal be most assured that nothyng shal be doone that maye in any respect either directly or indirectly prejudice this amyté betwixt their two Majesties, or anything doone but that his Majesty shal be made privy thereto; and thereof his Majesty shal be as well assured as he was of his late wyffe’s proceedings here.” Guido Cavalcanti arrived in France before Lord Grey’s answer to Guise, and the Florentine came posting back to England with an affectionate letter from the King of France to Elizabeth.[96] Cecil’s draft answer to this is just as judicious as the previous one. The King of France suggested that French and English commissioners might be mutually appointed to meet. This would never do, said Cecil; secrecy was of the first importance, and a meeting of Englishmen and Frenchmen of rank would be noticed immediately. The negotiations had better be carried on directly by correspondence, and this was the course accepted by the French. Whilst the matter was thus being drawn out, the disposition of Philip was being sounded. Later in the reign, Elizabeth and Cecil had taken his measure, and could foresee his action, but in these first negotiations they were groping their way. Elizabeth had practically refused Philip’s own suggestion of marriage made by Feria, and was now fencing with the proposals of his cousins the Archdukes; but she was careful not to drive Philip too far away. Reassuring letters came from Wotton. Much, he said, as Philip wished for peace, he did not believe he would make it alone, and leave both England and Scotland at the mercy of France, as “what woulde ensew thereof, a blynde manne can see.”[97]
It was well that Cecil’s caution disarmed Philip about the French advances; for Cavalcanti’s movements and mission were soon conveyed to the Spanish King by his spies, and when, at the expiration of the two months’ truce, the peace commissioners again met at Cateau-Cambresis, the King did his best to support the English commissioners in their demand for the restitution of Calais. His own agreement with France was easily made, for Henry II. was seriously alarmed now at the growth of the reform party, and gave way to Philip on nearly every point; whilst Philip himself was in great want of money, he hated war, and, above all, was burning to get back to the Spain he loved so much. But when, week after week, he saw that the English commissioners stood firm about Calais, he was obliged to speak out and assure Elizabeth that he could not plunge his country into war again for the purpose of restoring to England a fortress she had lost by her own laxity. At length, after infinite discussion, the English were forced to conclude a peace based upon the restitution of Calais in eight years, the demolition of the fortifications of Eyemouth, and a truce, to be followed by a peace, between England and Scotland.
In the meanwhile, before the peace of Cateau-Cambresis was signed, matters were growing more acrimonious in tone between England and Spain, owing to the ecclesiastical measures to which reference will be made presently, and also to the haughtiness and want of tact displayed by Feria in England. When, therefore, news came hither that amongst the conditions of the general peace was one providing for the marriage of Philip with Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of the French King, and the establishment of a close community of interests between France and Spain, a gust of apprehension passed over the English that they had been outwitted, and would have to face a combination of the two great rivals.
Paget—a thorough Spanish partisan and a Catholic—had foretold such a possibility as this in February, and had entreated Cecil to cling closely to Spain and continue the war with France.[98] But Cecil was wiser than Paget. He knew that by fighting for Calais we should lose both friendships, and he accepted the best terms of peace he could get. But when it was a question of the brotherhood between Spain and France, and whispers came from French reformers of the secret international league to crush Protestantism, then the only course to pursue was to disarm Philip and sow discord between Spain and France. When Feria saw the Queen on the 7th April 1559, the day on which the news of the signing of peace arrived in London, he found her pouting and coquettish that Philip should have married any one but her. “Your Majesty, she said, could not have been so much in love with her as I had represented, if you could not wait four months for her.” But in the antechamber the Ambassador had a conversation with Cecil, “who is a pestilent knave, as your Majesty knows. He told me they had heard that your Majesty was very shortly going to Spain, and, amongst other things, he said that if your Majesty wished to keep up the war with France, they for their part would be glad of it. I told him he could tell that to people who did not understand the state of affairs in England so well as I did. What they wanted was something very different from that. They were blind to their own advantage, and would now begin to understand that I had advised what was best for the interests of the Queen and the welfare of the country; and I left them that day as bitter as gall.”[99]
Paget wailed that the country was ruined; Alba, Ruy Gomez, and young De Granvelle tried to impress upon the English peace commissioners that England’s only chance of salvation now lay in Philip’s countenance.[100] Feria tried to frighten the Queen by assuring her that her religious policy was hurrying her and her country to perdition, and complained that certain comedies insulting to Philip which had been acted at court, had been suggested by Cecil, her chief minister. But she outwitted him at every point. “She was,” he said, “a daughter of the devil, and her chief ministers the greatest scoundrels and heretics in the land.” She disarmed him and his master by pretending that she would marry one of the Austrian Archdukes, who would depend entirely upon Spain; and Spanish agents were still fain to be civil to her, in hope of bringing that about; though hot-headed Feria soon found his place intolerable, and relinquished it to a more smooth-tongued successor. The reason why Feria was so especially bitter against Cecil, was that to him was attributed the principal blame for forcing through Parliament, at the same time as the conclusion of the treaty of peace, the Act of Supremacy, recognising the Queen as Governor of the Anglican Church, and the Act of Uniformity, imposing the second prayer-book of Edward VI., but with some alterations of importance for the purpose of conciliating the Catholics. The oath of supremacy, however, was only compulsory on servants of the Crown; and the general tendency of the Council, and especially of the Queen, was to avoid offending unnecessarily the Catholic majority in the country. The Queen personally preferred a ceremonious worship, and several times assured the Spanish Ambassador that her opinions were similar to those of her father—that she was practically a Catholic, except for her acknowledgment of the papal supremacy.
Cecil’s interests at this period were somewhat different from those of the Queen. Her great object was to consolidate her position by gaining the good-will of as many of her subjects as possible, apart from the question of religion. It was necessary for her to pass the Act of Supremacy, in order to establish the legality of her right to reign, and some sort of uniformity was necessary in the interests of peace and good government; but beyond that she was not anxious to push religious reform, for she disliked the Calvinists much more than she did the Catholics. But Cecil saw that if the Protestant Church were not established legally and strongly before Elizabeth died—and of course she might die at any time—the accession of Catholic Mary Stuart with French power at her back would mean the end of his ministry, and probably of his life. He and Sir Nicholas Bacon, his brother-in-law, with Bedford, were consequently regarded by the Spaniards as the principal promoters of religious changes. They tried hard to divert him, and in the list of Councillors who were to receive pensions from Spain he is down for a thousand crowns;[101] but though he treated the Spaniards with great courtesy and conciliation, they do not appear to have influenced his policy by a hair’s-breadth. Parry, the Controller, now Treasurer of the Household, was a man of inferior talent, and was apparently jealous of Cecil. Feria, despairing of moving Cecil, consequently endeavoured to influence the Queen by fear through Parry. On the 6th March, during the passage of the ecclesiastical bills through Parliament, the Ambassador, with the Queen’s knowledge, arranged to meet Parry in St. James’s Park; but at the instance of Elizabeth, who did not desire the rest of her Council to see her confidential man in conference with Feria, the meeting-place was changed to Hyde Park, “near the execution place.” The Ambassador urged upon Parry that the proposed religious measures would certainly bring about the Queen’s downfall. Parry promised that the Queen would not assume the title of Supreme Head of the Church, but would call herself Governor. But this was all Feria could get; for a week after, when he saw the Queen, he “found her resolved about what was passed in Parliament yesterday, which Cecil and Vice-Chamberlain Knollys and their followers have managed to bring about for their own ends.” The Queen was excited and hysterical. She was a heretic, she said, and could not marry a Catholic like Philip. Feria endeavoured to calm and flatter her; but he assured her that if she gave her consent to the bills she would be utterly ruined. She promised him that she would not assume the title of Supreme Head; but she said that so much money was taken out of the country for the Pope that she must put an end to it, and the bishops were lazy poltroons, whereupon Feria retorted angrily, and Knollys purposely put an end to the conversation by announcing supper. Parry’s influence was small and decreasing. “Although,” says Feria, “he is a favourite of the Queen, he is not at all discreet, nor is he a good Catholic, but, still, he behaves better than the others. Cecil is very clever, but a mischievous man, and a heretic, and governs the Queen in spite of the Treasurer (Parry);[102] for they are not at all good friends, and I have done what I can to make them worse.”[103] Cecil, of course, had his way, and the Acts of Supremacy and Uniformity received the royal assent within a few weeks of this time (April 1559).
In the meanwhile both Cecil and the Queen worked hard to divert or mollify the irritation of the Spaniards caused by the religious measures. The pretence of a desire on the part of the Queen to marry an Austrian Archduke was elaborately carried on. Envoys from the Emperor went backwards and forwards. The sly, silky old Bishop of Aquila, the new Spanish Ambassador, tried to draw the Queen into a position from which she could not recede. She was coy, interesting, unsophisticated, and cunning by turns, but never compromised herself too far. The object was simply to keep the Spaniards from breaking away whilst pursuing her own course, and this object was effected.
The treaty of Cateau-Cambresis was ratified with great ceremony in London at the end of May: François de Montmorenci and a splendid French embassy were entertained at Elizabeth’s court,[104] the Emperor’s envoy being present at the same time to push the Archduke’s suit. It was Cecil’s cue to pretend to the Spaniards that the French were now very affectionate, and one day after some vicarious love-making with the Queen on behalf of the Archduke, the Bishop had a long conversation with the Secretary. The latter hinted that a French match had been offered to the Queen, and asked his opinion of it. If it had not been for the dispensatory power of the Pope being necessary, the Queen, said Cecil, would have married Philip; “but the proposal involved religious questions which it would be fruitless now to discuss, as the matter had fallen through.” The object of this, of course, was to attract the Spaniards, first by jealousy of the French, and next by a show of sympathy with Spain. For reasons already set forth with regard to English succession, Philip was just as anxious as Cecil to avoid a quarrel. “I was glad,” writes the Bishop, “to have the opportunity of talking over these matters with him, to dissipate the suspicion which I think he and his friends entertain, that they have incurred your Majesty’s anger by their change of religion. I therefore answered him without any reproach or complaint, and only said that what had been done in the kingdom certainly seemed to me very grave, severe, and ill-timed, but that I hoped in God; and if He would some day give us a council of bishops, or a good Pope, who would reform the customs of the clergy, and the abuses of the court of Rome, which had scandalised the provinces, all the evil would be remedied; and God would not allow so noble and Christian a nation as this to be separated in faith from the rest of Christendom.”[105] Thus the Catholic Bishop met the Protestant Cecil more than half-way; and no more triumphant instance can be found than this of the policy of the first few months of Elizabeth’s reign. The faith of England had been revolutionised in six months without serious discontent in the country itself. Instead of hectoring Feria flouting and threatening, the bland Churchman sought to minimise differences of religion to the “pestilent knave” who had been principally instrumental in making the great change. From master of England, Philip had changed to an equal anxious to avoid its enmity. The altered position had been brought about partly by Philip’s dread of half-French Mary Stuart succeeding to the English throne if Elizabeth should disappear, partly by the studious moderation of the English ecclesiastical measures, and partly by the care taken by Cecil and the Queen to keep alive the idea that the French were courting their friendship, whilst they themselves preferred the old connection with the House of Burgundy.
How vital it was for England to conciliate Philip at this juncture was evident to those who, like Cecil, were behind the scenes, although the extreme Protestants in the country were somewhat restive about it. Before the treaty of peace with France was negotiated, at the very beginning of the year 1559, Cecil drew up an important state paper for the consideration of the Council, discussing the probability of an immediate French attack upon England over the Scottish border in the interests of Mary Stuart. The religious disturbances in Scotland had necessitated the sending of a considerable French force to the aid of the Queen Regent, and Cecil says that a large army of French and German mercenaries was already collected, which it was doubtful whether the English could resist. The questions he propounded to the Council were whether it would be better to seize the Scottish ports at once before the French fleet arrived, or to place England in a state of defence and await events. The latter course was adopted, conjointly with endeavours to draw Philip to the side of England, and the sending of Sir Nicholas Throgmorton to France to remonstrate with the King.[106] The occasion given for this alarm is stated in Cecil’s diary as follows: “January 16th, 1559. The Dolphin of France and his wife Queen of Scotts, did, by style of King and Queen of Scotland, England, and Ireland, graunt unto the Lord Fleming certain things.”
Throgmorton arrived in Paris on the 23rd May, and on the 7th June wrote to Cecil that the Guises and Mary Stuart were bribing and pensioning Englishmen there, and that Cardinal Lorraine was busy intriguing for the sending of a force to Scotland, and for promoting his niece’s claim to the English crown. He was “inquisitive to know of such Englishmen as he hath offered to interteigne, how many shippes the Queen’s Majesty hath in redeness, and whether the same be layed up in dock at Gillingham, and how many of them be on the narrow seas, and whether the new great ships be already made and furnished with takling and ordnance.”[107] On the 21st of the same month the news was still more alarming. Throgmorton informed Cecil that a suggestion had been made to him for a marriage between Queen Elizabeth and Guise’s brother, the Duke de Nemours, to which he had replied that he could not say anything about it unless the King of France or his Council officially mentioned it. Throgmorton now heard that Constable Montmorenci had reproached Nemours for making such a suggestion, “adding further these words, ‘What! do yow not know that the Queen Dauphin hath right and title to England.’”[108] They only waited for an opportunity, said Throgmorton, to say, “Have at you.” Great preparations were being made in Paris for the celebration of the peace with Spain, and the betrothal of the King’s daughter to King Philip by proxy, and watchful Throgmorton soon discovered that on all escutcheons, banners, and trophies in which the Dauphin’s and his wife’s arms were represented, the arms of England were quartered, and almost daily thereafter in his letters to Cecil the Ambassador sounds the alarm. Cecil himself in his diary thus marks the progress of events, 28th June 1559: “the justs at Paris, wherein the King-Dolphin’s two heralds were apparelled with the arms of England.”[109] On the 29th June, at the great tournament to celebrate his child’s betrothal to Philip, Henry II. was accidentally thrust in the eye by Montgomerie, and in a moment the political crisis became acute.