In September the mild and diplomatic Guzman was withdrawn, much to Elizabeth’s apprehension, and Cecil’s regret, and an Ambassador of very different calibre was sent. For many years the warlike party in Philip’s councils, led by Alba, had been urging him to active hostility towards England, but the peace party of Ruy Gomez had prevented the advice from being adopted. Now that Alba was supreme in the Netherlands, and reported that the Protestant revolt was mainly fed from England, Philip seems to have decided to alarm Elizabeth into neutrality by sending a rough-tongued representative. He had felt his ground first by his contemptuous treatment of Dr. Man, and seeing that Elizabeth had taken it quietly, he sent as his new Ambassador a turbulent bigoted Catalan, named Gerau de Spes, to endeavour by truculence to do what the suavity of Guzman had failed to effect. Dutch, Huguenot, and English privateers were preying upon Spanish shipping, to an extent which well-nigh cut off communication by sea between Spain and northern Europe. Money and arms, unchecked, found their way from England to the brave “beggars” in Holland; and though Philip did not wish to fight England, it was vital for him to paralyse her for harm. Mary Stuart had written to Philip from Carlisle, begging him for help against Elizabeth, and the chance seemed to Philip a good one to disturb England for his own ends, without war. He accordingly wrote cautiously to Alba (15th September), saying that he was willing to help Mary, but desired Alba to report upon what might be done to that end, whilst sending reassuring promises to the Queen of Scots.[281] From the first hour that De Spes set foot in England, he went beyond his instructions and conspired actively against the Government to which he was accredited.
There was more even than this untoward change to occupy the thoughts and hands of Elizabeth’s first minister. The war had raged in France between the Huguenots and the Catholics from September 1567 till the clever management of Catharine had beguiled the Protestants to accept the hollow peace of Longjumeau (March 1568). Hans Casimir and his mercenary Germans went home; the Huguenots laid down their arms; and then again the Catholic pulpits thundered forth that it was godly to break faith with heretics, and that the blood shed of unbelievers sent up sweet incense to heaven. Nearly 10,000 Huguenots were treacherously slain in three months, and no punishment could be obtained against the murderers. Condé and Coligny fled to the stronghold of La Rochelle, there to be joined by the Queen of Navarre with 4000 men-at-arms, and all that was strong and warlike on the side of the Huguenots. Elizabeth in the autumn was making a progress through the valley of the Thames when she heard that Cardinal Chatillon[282] had escaped from Tréport, and had arrived in England and desired an audience. Lord Cobham, Warden of the Cinque Ports, made much of him when he landed; Gresham entertained him; the French Ambassador, himself inclined to be a Huguenot, honoured him as if he were a prince; and as soon as the Queen’s answer was received, Chatillon hurried down to Newbury to prefer his request to the Queen. He looked little of a cardinal or a churchman, for he dressed in cape, hat, and sword, and his wife joined him, but that perhaps made him all the more welcome. Throgmorton voices the general idea in a letter to Cecil. “I think,” he says, “with you, that it is a special favour of God to preserve this realm from calamities by their neighbours’ troubles.… If her Majesty suffer the Low Countries and France to be weeded of the members of the Church whereof England is also a portion, I see no other thing can happen but a more grievous accident to us than to those whom we have suffered to be destroyed.”[283]
But it is quite clear that neither the Queen nor Cecil intended to allow the Huguenots to be destroyed. The Cardinal was received with open arms, munitions were brought from the Tower in hot haste, and a strong fleet was fitted out to carry aid to Huguenots in Rochelle. The French Ambassador might be half a Huguenot, but his brother the Bishop of Rennes was not, and he came and protested strongly in the name of Catharine against Chatillon’s reception in England. Cecil tells Norris in Paris that he got a very short answer. “I told him,” says Cecil, “we had more cause to favour him (Chatillon) and all such, because the said Cardinal Lorraine was known to be an open enemy of our sovereign. So he departed with no small misliking, and I well contented to utter some round speeches.”[284] But, prudent as usual, Cecil was a stickler for legality, and took care that appearances were kept up. The Cardinal, he insisted, was a faithful subject of his King; it was the Guises who were the enemies. Norris is directed to tell Catharine that the fleet is “to protect our Burdeaux fleet from pyrats”; and if any complaint is made about money and munitions of war being provided for Chatillon, he is to say that the Queen would never do anything against the French King, but if English merchants made bargains with the Huguenots, he (Cecil) knew of no way to stop it. He certainly made no attempt to do so; for with a great civil war on hand it was clear that France could not resort to arms for the cause of Mary Stuart; and whilst mediatory proceedings were dragging on in England, the Protestant cause in Scotland was being consolidated.
The unhappy Queen of Scots herself, persuaded that no help could just now reach her from her French kinsmen, seems to have depended almost entirely upon the aid to be given by the King of Spain and Alba to the Scottish Catholics. No messenger came from her to London without beseeching secret letters in cipher to the Spanish Ambassador; and whilst the trial dragged on, she left no stone unturned to arouse indignation against Murray and the English. They wished to kill her child, she said, and force the reformed faith upon her and Scotland. In an intercepted letter to one of the Hamiltons, which fell into Cecil’s hands,[285] she says that Dumbarton, with Murray’s consent, was to be seized by the English. Elizabeth had, she averred, promised to sustain Murray, to recognise his legitimacy, and raise him to the throne as her vassal; both of these being accusations which were likely to move the Hamiltons to fury. But, above all, she accused Cecil of a deeper plot still. He had arranged, she said, to marry one of his daughters to the Earl of Hertford, father of Catharine Grey’s young heir, and thus, by mutual support, Hertford’s son and Murray might occupy respectively the English and Scottish thrones under Cecil’s tutelage. “So they will both be bent on my son’s death.” There was no truth in it; but it was an excellent invention to arouse the ire of the Scottish Catholics. Before even this was written (December), Cecil knew how bitter was Mary’s feeling against him. When Beton came to London from Mary in October, with secret messages for De Spes, suggesting her escape, “which will not be difficult, or even to raise a revolt against this Queen,” Cecil guessed his real errand, and, says De Spes, “Cecil is so much against the Queen of Scotland, and so jealous in the matter, that as soon as he saw Beton he asked him whether he had been with his complaints to the Spanish Ambassador, and whether he came to see me often; to which Beton replied that he had no dealings whatever with me.”[286]
But Cecil’s spies were everywhere, and he knew that De Spes was working ceaselessly in Mary’s interests to bring disaster upon England, in union with his chief, the Duke of Alba, in Flanders. The great difficulty in the way of the Spaniards was the extreme penury of the treasury. Spain was in the very depths of poverty, its commerce well-nigh killed by unwise fiscal arrangements and the depredations of the privateers, against whom De Spes inveighed to Cecil constantly, but in vain, though the Secretary was strongly against piracy on principle. Flanders desolated with war, Holland and Zeeland in revolt, were no longer the milch-cows for the Spaniards that they had been, and Alba, with an unpaid and rebellious soldiery, was in despair of subduing Orange, much less of crushing England, unless large sums of money were forthcoming. Philip made a great effort in the autumn of 1568, and borrowed a large sum of money from the Genoese bankers to supply Alba with the sinews of war. The money was to be conveyed by sea to Flanders at the risk of the bankers. Three of the vessels duly arrived in Antwerp, after having been chased by Huguenot privateers; but several others put into Southampton, Plymouth, and Falmouth, to escape from their pursuers. The representative in England of the bankers was the Genoese Benedict Spinola, who requested De Spes to ask the Queen to allow the money to be discharged and brought overland to Dover, where it could be transhipped under convoy for the Duke of Alba. De Spes saw the Queen on the 29th November, and she consented to this course being adopted.
In the meanwhile the privateers, in crowds, were clustered outside the harbours where the rich treasure lay, and nearly every Spanish ship that entered the Channel fell into their hands. De Spes had not been sent by Philip to provoke war, but in the few months that he had been in England his violence, insolence, and bigotry had brought war nearer than ever it had been before. Norris in Paris had just been warned, and had sent the warning to Cecil, that a plot was formed to kill the Queen, and that the papal banker Ridolfi, De Spes, and the English Catholic nobility, headed by the Earl of Arundel, had agreed to place Mary Stuart on the English throne. De Spes was closeted day and night with Mary’s agents. “The Bishop of Ross came at midnight to offer me the good-will of his mistress and many gentlemen of this country.… The Queen of Scotland told my servant to convey to me the following words: ‘Tell the Ambassador that if his master will help me I shall be Queen of England in three months, and mass shall be said all over the country.’”[287]
Condé’s agents, too, were for ever telling the Queen and Cecil of the plans against England of the Guises and Alba, as soon as the Protestants in France and Flanders had been subjugated; and Knollys wrote almost despairingly from Bolton of Mary’s haughty disbelief in Elizabeth’s power to harm her.[288] There need, therefore, be no surprise that the English Council began to question the wisdom of allowing the treasure that had fallen into their power to be used against the tranquillity and independence of their own country. When De Spes asked Cecil for the safe conducts for the money, he was put off with vague evasions, whilst the main question was being discussed. After much pressing, Cecil gave the safe conducts, and sent orders to Plymouth and Falmouth (13th December, N.S.) that the shore authorities were to defend the treasure-ships, which were being threatened by pirates, even in port. “These orders are now being sent off,” writes De Spes, “but in all things Cecil showed himself an enemy to the Catholic cause, and desirous on every opportunity of opposing the interests of your Majesty.… He has to be dealt with by prayers and gentle threats.” “The Council is sitting night and day about the Queen of Scotland’s affairs. Cecil and the Chancellor (Bacon) would like to see her dead, as they have a King of their own choosing, one of Hertford’s children.”[289]
After deliberation, Cecil had sent for Bernard Spinola, and ascertained from him that the money was being conveyed at the bankers’ risk, and could not legally be called King Philip’s property.[290] This seems to have decided the question. The money on the cutter in Southampton harbour was discharged, on the pretext of protecting it from pirates;[291] and as soon as De Spes got the news, on the 20th December, he went to the Queen in a violent rage to demand its return. He only saw Cecil, who said the money was safe, but hinted that it did not belong to the King. De Spes then gave the bad advice to Alba to retaliate by seizing all English property in the Netherlands, which was done, and Cecil was provided with a pretext which gave him what he always needed, a good legal position to justify his acts. The Queen had not hitherto plainly said that she would keep the money; but as soon as she heard that Alba had seized English property, it gave her the required excuse for doing so. Her credit was as good as Philip’s, she said, and she would borrow it herself. Not only 400,000 crowns in gold, but every scrap of Spanish property in England was seized, enormously in excess of all English property in Flanders. In vain De Spes hectored and stormed, in vain Alba alternately threatened and implored, in vain Philip made seizures of Englishmen and goods in Spain; the Queen was in an unassailable position. Alba had openly declared the seizures of English property first, and all Elizabeth had done was to adopt reprisals afterwards. But it crippled Alba and Philip almost to exhaustion, and well-nigh ruined Spanish commerce and killed Spanish credit.
For years open and secret negotiations went on to obtain some restoration of the enormous amount of Spanish property seized. Cajolery, bribery, and appeals to English honour were resorted to without effect; private negotiations were opened by the owners of the property to get partial restitution on any terms; envoy after envoy was sent, and returned home empty-handed. The Queen refused to acknowledge Alba or his agents in any form, and Cecil was immovable in his determination that no arrangement should be made that did not bring into account all the confiscations and persecutions that had ever been suffered by English in Spain at the hands of the Inquisition, which he knew was impossible. In the meanwhile the property dwindled and was jobbed away, and little, if any, ever eventually reached its proper owners.
Early in January the Queen refused to receive De Spes, and sent Cecil and the Lord Admiral, attended by a large train, and the aldermen of the city, to see him at his house. Cecil, as usual, was the spokesman. He was angry and severe: upbraided the Ambassador for his bad offices; condemned the cruelty of the Duke of Alba, and his insolence in seizing English property; and ended by placing De Spes and all his household under arrest, in the custody of Henry Knollys, Arthur Carew, and Sir Henry Knyvett. The reason of this was that a violent letter from De Spes to Alba had been intercepted by Cecil’s orders. To make matters worse, the foolish Ambassador, whilst under arrest, wrote an insolent letter to Alba complaining of his treatment, and sent it open to the Council. In it he says that “Cecil is harsh and arrogant; that he vapoured about religion, dragged up the matter of John Man and about Bishop Quadra’s affairs, and, in short, did and said a thousand impertinent things. He thinks he is dealing with Englishmen, who all tremble before him.… The question of the money does not suit him. I beg your Excellency not to refrain on my account from doing everything that the interests and dignity of the King demand; for whilst Cecil rules, I do not believe there will ever be lasting peace. It is a pity so excellent a Queen should give credit to so scandalous a person as this. God send a remedy; for in this country, people great and small are discontented with the Government.… Cecil is having a proclamation drawn up, from which he leaves out what is most important, and misstates the case. He refused to return my packet, and is getting one Somers to decipher my letters. If he succeeds I will pardon him.”[292] The transmission of this insolent letter, open to the Council, to be sent to Alba, produced the effect that might have been expected. De Spes was asked to explain what he meant by such offensive expressions against the Government, and by some scurrilous references employed in another intercepted letter towards the Queen. He tried to attenuate his insolence towards the Queen, and the Council as a whole, but not that towards Cecil personally.