The great French embassy had gone back defeated, for they saw that Elizabeth was befooling Alençon, and that the national alliance would only be made on terms advantageous to English interests in Flanders. But it was necessary for Henry III. and his mother to cling to England if they were effectually to oppose Philip in Portugal. The Guises were becoming more overbearing and powerful than ever under the popular Duke Henry; they were known to be turning towards Spain, and their ambitions were high both for themselves and for their cousin Mary Stuart. To avoid the complete subjugation of France to their ends, the King was therefore obliged to court Elizabeth, and suffer her to have her way with Alençon and Flanders. Henry III. consequently asked Elizabeth, through Somers, to name a day for the marriage, simultaneously with which an offensive and defensive alliance would be concluded, and a secret agreement entered into with regard to the establishment of Alençon in Flanders. This, of course, was understood to be merely fencing, and Walsingham himself was sent to France to conclude a treaty. He was instructed to say that the French were mistaken in supposing that the marriage was settled. The Queen could not consent to the marriage now, for, as Alençon was already in arms against the King of Spain, it would “bring us and our realme into war, which in no respect our realme and subjects can accept.” But if the King will accept her secret aid to Alençon’s plan in Flanders, and the opposition to Spain in Portugal, she will be willing to conclude an offensive and defensive alliance with him. In any case, the marriage was to be abandoned. Walsingham saw Alençon in Picardy before going to Paris, and, as may be supposed, the young Prince was in despair at the Queen’s fickleness. He was certain his brother would not make an alliance without the marriage, as he feared the Queen would slip out of it, leaving France alone face to face with Spain.[455] If, said Catharine, who was with her son, the Queen of England broke her word about the marriage for fear of her people, she might break an alliance for a similar reason. But Walsingham made it clear to both of them that Elizabeth would not allow herself to be dragged into war with Spain, though covert aid should be given to her late suitor. Poor Alençon wept and stormed, but in vain. Anything short of marriage was useless to him, he said. His brother neither had helped nor would help him against Spain, unless the marriage took place. He himself would come to England for an answer from the Queen’s lips as soon as he had raised the siege of Cambray. Elizabeth complained of Walsingham’s management of the interview; he could rarely content her. He had, she said, been too abrupt in breaking off the marriage. Burghley pointed out to her that she could not have all her own way. She wanted, he said, to keep the marriage afoot, and yet not to marry; to aid Alençon secretly, whilst France aided him openly; to conclude an alliance by which she gained everything, and France nothing.[456]
Elizabeth, in a rage, swore that Leicester and the Puritans were dragging her into all sorts of expense and trouble,[457] from which she could not extricate herself without war. Walsingham was soon disgusted with his task, for he could make but little progress in Paris, and the Queen found fault with him constantly. He answered boldly, almost rudely, to all her strictures. He told her that with all this hesitation about the marriage “you lose the benefit of time, which, if years be considered, is not the least thing to be weighed. If you mean it (the marriage) not, then assure yourself it is one of the worst remedies you can use.… When your Majesty doth see in what doubtful terms you stand with foreign princes, then you do wish with great affection that opportunities offered had not been overslipped; but when they are offered you, if they be accompanied by charges, they are altogether neglected. The respect of charges hath lost Scotland, and I would to God I had no cause to think it might not put your Highness into peril of losing England.”[458]
Even Burghley, with all his influence, was in despair at getting the Queen to spend any money. Walsingham had told the Queen that if she lent Alençon 100,000 ducats secretly he might be appeased. Burghley pointed out to her that her niggardliness was ruining the chance of effectually weakening Spain. “In no wise,” writes Burghley, “would she have the enterprise of the Low Countries lost, but she will not particularly warrant you to offer aid. She allegeth that now the King (of France) hath gone so far he will not abandon it.… Her Majesty is also very cold in the cause of Don Antonio, alleging that she liketh it only by opportunity [importunity?] of her Council; and now that all things are ready, ships, victuals, and men, the charges whereof come to £12,000, she hath been moved to find £2000 more needful for the full furniture of the voyage, wherewith she is greatly offended with Mr. Hawkins and Drake, as the charges are greater than was said to her … hereupon her Majesty is content not to give a penny more; and now after Drake and Hawkins have made shift for the £2000, she will not let them depart until she be assured by you that the French will aid Don Antonio, for she feareth to be left alone.… All these things do marvellously stay her Majesty … yet she loseth all the charges spent in vain, and the poor King (Antonio) is utterly lost.”[459]
But Burghley might reason and remonstrate, Walsingham might tell her, as he did, that the penuriousness would bring her to ruin, Elizabeth would not open her purse strings until it was almost too late. Alençon had made a dash into Flanders soon after seeing Walsingham in August, and relieved Cambray, and then being absolutely penniless, his brother, in a fright at his boldness, refusing any aid, the Queen was obliged to send him £20,000 to prevent the abandonment of the whole business, and a union with the Guises which he threatened. He returned to France after a few weeks, and then again announced his intention of coming to England to exert his personal influence on the Queen. To stave off the visit several other sums of money were sent to him. Leicester, too, strove his hardest to stop it; but Alençon’s agents and Alençon’s lovelorn epistles were more flattering to the Queen even than Leicester, and the lover came early in November.
Although Walsingham had almost arranged a draft treaty of alliance without marriage when he was in Paris, it fell through on the eternal question of the Queen’s “charges” and responsibility, and when Alençon arrived in England the whole matter was as far from settlement as ever. Of the extraordinary cajolery by which the Queen alternately raised Alençon to the pinnacle of hope and plunged him to the depths of despair during his stay with her at Richmond and Whitehall, a full description will be found elsewhere.[460] By her dexterity she bound him personally to her, and made it appear that the only obstacles to the match were those raised by the King of France. From the coming of Alençon it is clear that Leicester alone understood the Queen’s game. The earl was radiant and joyous, which made Sussex distrust the result, notwithstanding appearances. So far as he could Lord Burghley held aloof, although when the Prince came to London he waited upon him with other Councillors formally every morning at nine. When the famous scene was enacted (22nd November) in the gallery at Whitehall, where the Queen boldly kissed her suitor on the lips and publicly pledged herself to marry him,[461] Burghley was confined to his bed with an attack of gout. The Queen sent him an account of what had passed. Mendoza reports that he thereupon exclaimed, “Blessed be the Lord that this business has at last reached a point where the Queen, on her part, has done all she can; it is for the country now alone to carry it out.” The deduction which Mendoza drew from this exclamation was probably the correct one. To him it proved that the whole plan was insincere on the part of Elizabeth, and that the intention was to cause conditions to be imposed by Parliament which the King of France could not accept, and then to throw the responsibility of the breach upon the latter.
This was all very well, but it was a reverse for Burghley’s policy. Leicester and Walsingham had drawn the Queen into a position of almost open hostility to Spain; and yet a close union with France was rendered difficult by Elizabeth’s fickleness and dread of responsibility, and by Leicester’s jealousy. As usual in such circumstances, Burghley cautiously endeavoured to redress the balance. When the treaty with France seemed assured, Mendoza had been refused audience, and on remonstrating with Burghley he had found him far less willing to be friendly than before. Leicester quite openly talked about turning the Spanish Ambassador out of England, and even Burghley had replied, to an application for audience on behalf of Mendoza to deliver a letter from Philip to the Queen, who was at Nonsuch, that the Queen was alone and unattended by Councillors, “and as Don Bernardino is to bring letters to the Queen from so great an enemy to her as his master, it is meet that he should be received as the minister of such a one.” When the Spaniard did see the Queen (October), his threats and complaints about Don Antonio and Alençon were met with anger and indignation by her. All the old complaints on both sides were repeated, and both then and later Mendoza was certain by the attitude of Leicester, Hatton, and Walsingham, that they were determined to have war with Spain, and that Burghley, for once, would not stand in their way.
But a change came in the attitude of the latter in December. It seemed then impossible for the Queen to withdraw her pledges to Alençon without a breach with France, whilst she could hardly help him without a war with Spain. Scottish affairs, moreover, were a subject of deep anxiety. D’Aubigny was now master, and Morton, to Elizabeth’s indignation, had been executed. Catholic priests and Jesuits were known to be flitting backwards and forwards; and worst of all, Mary Stuart had, for the first time since her flight, opened up friendly negotiations with her son’s Government, and had formally joined James with herself in her sovereignty. She had moreover written confidently asking for many fresh concessions which Elizabeth was loath to grant her.[462]
Any appearance of an approach of the French and Scots always drew England and Spain together, and with the added dangers already cited, this was quite sufficient to change Lord Burghley’s tone. Mendoza accordingly reports (25th December 1581) that, at a meeting of the Council held to consider the situation, Burghley suggested that an alliance should be made with Spain, and an agreement arrived at with regard to the Low Countries. This was approved of by the Lord Chancellor (Bromley), the Lord Admiral (Lincoln), and Crofts. Sussex held aloof, wavering between his enmity to France and Leicester, and his attachment to Protestantism; whilst Leicester, Walsingham, Hatton, and Knollys were strenuously opposed to any approach to Spain, as they were, even more violently, to Burghley’s proposal that Drake’s plunder, or what was left of it, should be restored. A few days afterwards Burghley had some business with a Spanish merchant established in London, and to him he expressed a desire that negotiations should be opened for an agreement between the two countries. When the merchant carried the message to Mendoza, the latter attributed the suggestion entirely to the fear which he had aroused by his firmness, and he made no response. Mendoza himself, indeed, one of the warlike Alba school, had now no hope or desire for peace. The rise of D’Aubigny in Scotland and the coming of the Jesuits had quite altered the position during the last year, and Mendoza had in his hands a plot that seemed to promise the triumph of the Catholics.
As early as April 1581, Mary Stuart had renewed her approaches to Spain through the Archbishop of Glasgow in Paris. “Things were now,” she said, “better disposed than ever in Scotland for a return to its former condition … and English affairs could be dealt with subsequently. The King, her son, was quite determined to return to the Catholic religion, and much inclined to an open rupture with the Queen of England.” She begged for armed aid from Philip, to be landed first in Ireland, and to enter Scotland at a given signal after the alliance between Scotland and Spain had been signed. Nothing came of this at the time; and after several other attempts on the part of Mary to get into touch with the Spaniards, she became distrustful of her Ambassador (Archbishop Beton) and other intermediaries, and contrived in November to communicate with Mendoza direct. She had heard that all the priests who flocked into Scotland and England looked to him for guidance, and that through them he had sent a message to the Scottish Catholics, saying that everything now depended upon Scotland’s reverting to the old faith. The English Catholic nobles then at liberty had, at Mendoza’s instance, formed a society with this object, and secretly sent two priests to sound James and D’Aubigny, and to promise that they would raise the north of England, release Mary, and secure the English succession to James. They brought back a favourable reply, which the ambassador at once conveyed to Allen and Persons on the continent. This was late in the autumn of 1581, and Mendoza looked coldly upon Burghley’s new advances, for he was now the centre of the plot to overthrow Elizabeth by means of the Scottish Catholics, a plot in which, against his will, he was obliged to make use of the Jesuit missionaries, who themselves at first had no idea of the Spanish political aims that underlay the conversion of Scotland to Catholicism.
Side by side with the Jesuits, Creighton, Persons, and Holt, who were employed in the political movement, were others who had been sent to England and were intended purely for spiritual work. They had been extremely successful in their propaganda, and had once more infused spirit into the English Catholic party. This could not be done without the printing and dissemination of books, as well as preaching, and the spies of the Council were directed to track to earth the priests who were at the bottom of the movement. Nearly every writer upon the subject has taken for granted that Lord Burghley was at the bottom of the persecution which followed. Such, however, does not appear to have been the case. As we have seen, the Lord Treasurer insisted upon some uniformity in the practice of the Anglican Church, but he must have known that many of his closest friends, and the colleagues upon whom he depended in the Council, were Catholics, and his lifelong tendency was to a political union with Spain, the champion of Catholic Christendom. He was determined, it is true, to crush treason to the Queen and the institutions of the country, no matter who suffered; and when Catholicism meant revolution he harried it fiercely; but he was no persecutor for the sake of religion itself,[463] and the cruel torture and execution of Campion, Sherwin, and Briant,[464] during Alençon’s visit to England (1st December 1581), for denying the Queen’s supremacy, were almost certainly prompted in the main by Walsingham, Knollys, and the Puritans, who were in a fever of apprehension lest the marriage with Alençon would lead to toleration of the Catholic faith. The men actually executed were not in fact employed in the political portion of the propaganda at all, but were honest religious missionaries; but they, and the scores of other Catholics who were swept into prison at the time, were useful object lessons for Walsingham and Leicester, whose aims, as we have seen, were in direct opposition to those of Burghley.[465] The latter, indeed, was at the very time of the execution approaching Mendoza with suggestions for an alliance with Spain, which were coldly received for the reasons already explained.