Things were in this condition in the autumn of 1567, all Europe being on the alert watching the gathering of the storm over the Netherlands. So long as there was any danger of French interference in Scotland, or of the Catholic powers taking up the cause of Mary Stuart, Elizabeth, and more especially Cecil, drew closer to Spain and the Catholic party in England. But events moved quickly, and the whole aspect changed within a few weeks. Almost simultaneously, in September 1567, came from different quarters two preliminary thunderclaps that announced the tempest. The advent of Alba in the Netherlands on his mission of vengeance had sent affrighted fugitives flying in swarms across the narrow seas to England; but when, on the 9th September, after the treacherous dinner-party in Brussels, the two highest heads in Flanders, Egmont and Horn, were struck at, and the bearers lodged in jail, all the world knew that the great struggle had begun between liberty and Protestantism on the one side, and tyranny and Catholicism on the other. Thanks mainly to Elizabeth and Cecil, it was not to be fought out on British soil. Only a few weeks afterwards came the news of Condé’s attempt to seize the young King of France and his mother, and to rescue them from the influence of Cardinal Lorraine. The attempt failed, but soon all France was ablaze with civil war, for the Protestant worm at last had turned. Betrayed, as they had been before, and face to face now with foreign mercenaries hurried into France to suppress them, the convinced Huguenots decided to stand by their faith, and fight to the death for liberty to exercise it, let the “politicians” do what they might. The two events happening almost together, whilst Mary Stuart was in prison under a cloud, and the rebel Shan O’Neil in Ireland had finally fallen, at once relieved England of all danger from without, unless the Catholic party was irresistibly triumphant both in France and Flanders. The best way to prevent that was to support those who were in arms against it, and the policy of Elizabeth and Cecil was again cautiously changed accordingly.
As soon as the Queen received from Norris news of Condé’s rising, she sent for Bôchetel, the French Ambassador, and ostentatiously condoled with him for the disrespect shown to his sovereign. She rather overdid the pity, and suggested that she should arbitrate between the King and the Huguenots, but would take care that no help was given to the latter from England. Bôchetel dryly thanked her for the assurance that she would not help rebels again, but said that his King was quite able to deal with his subjects without her assistance. Here, as in the case of Mary Stuart, Elizabeth’s first feeling was indignation at any disrespect being shown to a sovereign; but Cecil’s letter to Norris at the time (November 3, 1567) shows that he and his friends looked at the matter from another point of view,[262] which Elizabeth herself shortly afterwards adopted, as she had done in the case of the Queen of Scots. In the meanwhile the Council became daily more outspoken in favour of the Huguenots. Messages of encouragement went speeding across the Channel to Coligny, to Montgomerie, and the rest of the Huguenot leaders. Cecil himself took Archbishop Parker to task for his leniency to Bishop Thirlby and Dr. Boxall, who were in his custody for recusancy; and at the end of November the official blindness as to people attending mass in London came to an end. The English people who had worshipped undisturbed in the Spanish Ambassador’s chapel were suddenly arrested, and many of them sent to prison.[263] On the same day Cecil complained to Guzman that he had promoted the breaking of the law by persuading Englishmen to attend mass, and repeated other sinister reports about him. The Spaniard denied the charges, and warned Cecil that, although his present attitude might be prompted by patriotic motives, it was a dangerous one, “and that some people were casting the responsibility upon him (Cecil), for the purpose of making him unpopular.” Cecil, apparently, was not afraid of this, for he had strained the loyalty of his friends almost to breaking limits lately by the severity exercised against the anti-vestment divines and his approaches to Spain, and doubtless welcomed the change in the political position which allowed him to enforce uniformity upon Catholics as well as upon his own co-religionists. There was a talk of expelling all Catholics from the Queen’s household, and Bacon, the Chancellor, made a speech in the Star Chamber directing the judges and officials to put into renewed force and press vigorously, the laws against the possession of books attacking the Protestant faith. “What most troubles the Catholics, however,” writes Guzman, “is to see that Leicester has become much more confirmed in his heresy, and is followed by the Earl of Pembroke, who had been considered a Catholic. There is nobody now on the Catholic side in the Council.”
The hollow negotiations, too, for the Archduke’s marriage, carried on by honest Sussex in Vienna, were politely shelved; and the political pretence which Elizabeth and Cecil had kept up for so long, of a leaning towards the Catholic side, could safely be discarded until the renewed liability of England to attack from without might again call for its resumption. So far the Queen and her minister had dissembled to good purpose, for the great struggle for the faith had been diverted from England to the Continent, and the monarchs of France and Spain were both busy in suppressing the religious revolts of their own subjects.
CHAPTER IX
1568-1569
Norris in France, and Cecil’s agents in Spain and Flanders, continued to send home alarming news of the intentions of Philip and the Guises against England. The stories were untrue, but coming from so many quarters at the same time, were evidently not invented by the senders. They were in fact set afloat by Philip, as a means of keeping England in a state of apprehension, and so preventing her from sending overt aid to the Protestants in Flanders and France. To some extent they were successful in frightening Elizabeth, evidently to Cecil’s annoyance, for the Secretary at least had taken Philip’s measure, and knew that his hands were full. In a letter to Lord Cobham, written in April 1568, Cecil gives expression to this feeling in the figurative language which he was in the habit of employing. Cobham, as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, had forwarded a secret proposal of some Frenchmen in Calais to seize that citadel and deliver it to the Huguenots to be held for Elizabeth. The Queen was alarmed at the boldness of the plan, but promised that she would consider it if the King of France refused her offered mediation between him and the Huguenots. Cecil writes thereupon: “It grieveth me to hold and follow the plough where the owner of the ground forbears to cast in the seed in seasonable time, and I am all the more grieved that your Lordship is in like manner discouraged. ‘Moremus sepe sed nihil promoremus.’ But besides the plough your Lordship follows, we are occupied with another, meaning to join both together for surety, but still I despair of seed.”[264]
In the meanwhile, though Elizabeth herself was still overshadowed by the traditional might of Spain, the English Catholics were feeling, by the increased severity exercised towards them, the changed political situation. The English minister, and in her stronger moments the English Queen, were speaking more firmly now than ever they had dared to do since Elizabeth’s accession. For the first time the position was becoming defined. It was no longer France or Spain nationally that was the enemy of England: it was Catholic against Protestant the world over. Philip was as nervously anxious to avoid war as Elizabeth herself, and his need to do so much greater than hers; but if Protestantism was allowed to become strong, then his great empire must crumble, and the basis of his system disappear. His own slow stolidity had been in a great measure the cause of his finding himself in so unfavourable a tactical position, for he had allowed the champions of the autonomous rights of his Flemish dominions—rights which at first he might easily have conciliated with his own sovereignty—to obtain for their cause the immense added impetus of religious reform. It was this fact which had changed the situation; and it was accentuated in England by the activity of the Pope (Pius V.) in establishing English seminaries abroad, and by means of money and busy agents in England itself, raising the spirits of those who clung to the old faith.[265]
The answer to the effervescence thus caused amongst the Catholics was the renewed harshness against them by the English ministers and the rising aggressiveness of the Protestants. Late in February 1568, Cecil sent word to Guzman, with whom he was still ostensibly on friendly terms, to say that the Queen had learnt casually that the English Ambassador in Madrid (Dr. Man) was not allowed to hold Protestant service in the embassy. She was surprised at this, and had sent to the Ambassador orders to demand the same rights as were accorded to Guzman in England; if these were denied she would recall him. Cecil himself was more outspoken and indignant than usual, and much more so than the Queen. “They think, no doubt, that the present troubles in France and elsewhere,” writes Guzman, “give them a good opportunity of gaining ground, their own affairs being favourable; so they have begun to look out more keenly, and to trouble the Catholics, summoning some and arresting others, and warning them to obey the present laws … they (the Council) soon change her (the Queen), and all their efforts are directed at making her shy of me.”[266] Guzman’s messenger to Madrid travelled more quickly than Cecil’s, and before Dr. Man could demand his right to enjoy Protestant service, he was unceremoniously hustled out of Madrid, without obtaining audience of the King, the pretext being that he had in public conversation at his own table insulted the Catholic faith.[267] Though Philip took this strong course, he was as anxious as ever to avoid an open quarrel with England about that or anything else, and sent all sorts of conciliatory messages to the Queen. Dr. Man, he said, had behaved himself so outrageously that his further stay in Spain was impossible; but if another Ambassador were sent who would act as English Ambassadors always had done, he should be received with open arms.