During Alençon’s stay in England, the Queen, who was playing her own game, which was to reduce the Prince to utter dependence upon her and to distrust of his brother, had been constantly thwarted by the jealousy of Leicester and Hatton. They were for granting enormous sums to the suitor to get rid of him at any cost, which was no part of the Queen’s plan. Lord Burghley alone of the Councillors never displeased her in the matter; whenever it was a question of large expenditure, he always had a convenient attack of gout, and thus never openly thwarted the Queen. The difficulty was to get Alençon out of the country without ruinous expense or further pledges, and when it was found that all the Queen’s persuasions were unavailing she had to employ Burghley’s diplomacy. He began by inflaming the young Prince’s ambition, and enlarging upon the splendid destiny awaiting him in his new sovereignty, which was now clamouring for his presence. Promises were made never meant to be literally fulfilled, of the vast sums the Queen would contribute to his support, and at last, after infinite trouble, he was induced to promise to sail for Flanders. He wished to stay until the new year; but when Burghley pointed out to him the large amount of money he would have to spend in presents he seemed to give way, for money he had none. But when the time came he still stayed on. The Queen told Burghley after supper on Christmas night that she would not marry the lad to be empress of the world, and that he must get rid of him somehow. Catharine de Medici, the Prince of Orange, the German princes, and the French Ambassador all added their pressure to that of the Queen and Burghley to get Alençon out of England. Leicester and Hatton fumed and threatened. Burghley at last frankly told the Queen that the only way to get rid of her suitor was to provide a sum of ready money for him, and promise that he should come back to England as soon as he was crowned. The Queen did not like the alternative, and said she must wait for the King of France’s answer to her last demands. This time Catharine de Medici beat her with her own weapons. The answer was a full acceptance of everything required by the English; and to make it more complete, Alençon said he was willing to become a Protestant.
This was indeed alarming, and the Queen sent hurriedly to Burghley to get her out of the scrape. His suggestion this time was that she should demand Calais and Havre as security for the fulfilment of the King’s promises, which was a device after her own heart. But still Alençon would not go, and the Queen became seriously alarmed. She promised him £60,000; but Burghley was opposed to any such sum as that being paid, or indeed more than was necessary for the Prince’s voyage. The Queen said that she did not mean to pay it, but only to promise it, which was quite another matter. It is evident that Burghley was now quite undeceived, and against both the pretence of marriage and any large support being given to Alençon. He dreaded the revenge of France for the insult put upon it; and of Spain, for aiding the Frenchman’s usurpation of Philip’s sovereignty under English protection. His remedy, as usual, was a friendship with Spain. Walsingham, on the other hand, was all in favour of vigorous help to Orange and a war with Spain. The Queen usually leant to the side of Burghley, but was swayed hither and thither by her fears of France, by Pinart’s threats, Alençon’s tears, Leicester’s jealousy, and her own greed and vanity.
At last after infinite trouble Alençon sailed with fifteen ships, attended by Leicester (sorely against his will), Hunsdon, Sidney, Willoughby, Howard, and Norris, to take upon himself the sovereignty of Holland and Flanders. The Queen after all had to provide a large sum of money, but it was sent to the States, and not entrusted to Alençon, except a personal present of £25,000 from the Queen. Leicester escaped from the new sovereign’s side on the very day he was crowned, and hurried back to his mistress’s side. He reported that Alençon and the French were hated by the Protestant Dutchmen, who had only admitted him because the Queen of England was behind him. The English Ambassador in Paris at the same time sent word that Henry III. had repudiated his brother’s action, and had denounced as traitors all those who aided him.
This was exactly what Elizabeth feared. She had offended both the great powers, and was alone. She swore at Leicester for sanctioning, by his presence, the investiture of Alençon; she railed at Walsingham as a knave for dragging her into such a business; and she insisted upon Burghley, who was ill with fever in London, getting up and coming to Windsor to tell her what to do. When he appeared, she asked him whether it would not be better for her at once to become friendly with Spain. Thus, though the sagacious Lord Treasurer had let her go her own way, she had at last been brought by circumstances to propose his policy again. “He replied that nothing would suit her better, especially if peace could be arranged in the Netherlands by the concession of liberty of conscience.”[466] Sussex was of the same opinion, but distrusted both the Queen and Burghley, who, he said, had spoken coolly on the subject on the Council. There is, however, no reason to doubt that the Treasurer was sincere in his desire for such an arrangement, which indeed was the only one which seemed to promise peace to England.
In the meanwhile the Spanish and Jesuit plot in Scotland was progressing. Guise had drifted further and further away from Henry III. and his mother, from whom he saw he could get no aid for Mary Stuart or his own ambitious plans. When, therefore, the Queen of Scots had offered her submission and the sending of her son to Spain, he had separated himself from French interests, and tendered his own humble services to Philip. This made all the difference. If the Holy League and this undertaking made the Guises Catholics and Spaniards before they were Frenchmen, Philip need have no hesitation in helping their niece to the crowns of Scotland and England; and the Jesuits were set to work to secure James and D’Aubigny, whilst Mary Stuart’s spirits rose high. The Scottish Catholic nobles were ready to rise, and even, if necessary, to kill or deport the King if he would not be a Catholic. All they asked was a force of two thousand foreign troops. D’Aubigny entered eagerly into the affair, and by the spring of 1582 all was arranged, when the Jesuit emissaries and D’Aubigny between them mismanaged it. Guise was foolishly brought into the plan by D’Aubigny, and he wanted to invade the south of England with his troops at the same time. D’Aubigny made exaggerated claims for himself, and the Scottish Catholic nobles followed suit. Philip recognised that Guise was still playing for his own hand, though not for France. If Mary was to be Queen of Great Britain and his humble servant, she must owe her crown to him, and not to Guise. Philip therefore grew cool, and the raid of Ruthven and the banishment of D’Aubigny, by which young James fell into the hands of the Protestants (August 1582), effectually put an end to the projects of invasion for a time.
On the 18th March 1582, Alençon in Antwerp was giving an entertainment on the occasion of his birthday, when the Prince of Orange was stabbed, it was thought mortally, by a young Spaniard hired by those greater than himself. The one cry, both in Holland and in England, was, that Alençon and his false Frenchmen were at the bottom of the crime, and, but for the fortitude of Orange, every Frenchman in the Netherlands would have been massacred. Elizabeth was beside herself with fear. Her first impulse was to get Alençon out of Flanders, even if she brought him to England; but Walsingham gravely warned her that if the Prince came again she would certainly have to marry him.
Whilst Orange lay between life and death, Leicester, Hatton, Knollys, and Walsingham were for ever urging the Queen boldly to take Flanders and Holland under her own protection, whilst Burghley, aided by Sussex and Crofts, again advocated an arrangement with Spain. But the latter were in a minority; the Protestant feeling of the country was thoroughly aroused at the attempted murder of Orange, and Burghley was obliged to be cautious. Mendoza was instructed by Philip, March 1582, to use his influence with the Council to prevent aid being given to Alençon. “I have,” writes Mendoza, “tried every artifice to get on good terms with some of them, but they all turn their faces against me, particularly the Lord Treasurer, whom I formerly used to see, the rest of them being openly inimical. Only lately I sought an opportunity of approaching him again, and asked him to see me. He replied that his colleagues looked upon him as being very Spanish in his sympathies, and therefore he could not venture to see me alone, except by the Queen’s orders. I had, he said, better communicate my business through Secretary Walsingham, in the ordinary course.”[467]
Walsingham, on the other hand, lost no opportunity of widening the breach, in order to force the Queen to more vigorous action in favour of the Dutch Protestants. In May he sent an insulting message to Mendoza, to the effect that the Queen would not receive him until some satisfaction was given about Ireland. The Ambassador at once complained to Burghley. War, he said, might well result from this treatment of him. Burghley endeavoured to minimise the slight. It was a mistake of the messenger, he said, and Mendoza had better write to the Queen. He did so, but with no result but to confirm Walsingham’s message, though Elizabeth softened it somewhat by saying, “God forbid that she should ever break with your Majesty, to whom she bore nothing but good-will.”[468] When, in July, Alençon demanded more money, Walsingham, Leicester, and Hatton were for sending him £50,000 at once—anything to prevent his coming to England again—but Cecil opposed it vigorously. There was but £80,000 in the Treasury, he said, and so only £30,000 was sent to Flanders.
By the death of Bacon, the fatal illness of Sussex, and the defection of Hatton, Lord Burghley was at this time almost alone in the Council; for Crofts, the Controller, a regular pensioner of Spain and a Catholic, was a man of no influence; and, according to Mendoza, the Lord Treasurer in November told the Queen plainly that she must appoint two more Councillors of his way of thinking, “to oppose Leicester and his gang.” It was probably in pursuance of this policy that Burghley cast about for some counterbalancing influence to be used against Leicester.
At the end of 1581 a young captain named Walter Ralegh, whose company in Ireland had been disbanded on the suppression of the Desmond rebellion, had been sent over to England with despatches. He was clever and brilliant, and full of schemes for governing Ireland more cheaply than the Viceroy, Lord Grey, had done. Grey rebuked him for his presumption, and sent him home in semi-disgrace. Leicester was a bitter enemy of Grey’s, and was glad to welcome the young captain who impeached his government, and that of Leicester’s rival Ormond.[469] Ralegh was invited to the Council-table to explain his plans to Lord Burghley. His recommendations were approved, and submitted to the Queen, who gave him audience. Before many weeks passed (May 1582), favours began to shower upon him; and by the autumn, Leicester and Hatton had taken fright, and were bitterly jealous of him, whilst the Lord Treasurer had cleverly enlisted the new favourite under his banner. He was never a member of the Council, but he had the Queen’s ear, and kept it for years; for Leicester was elderly and scorbutic, and Hatton was an affected fribble, whilst Ralegh was young, handsome, and manly, and as wise as he was ambitious.