During the autumn of 1582 the plague raged in London, and Burghley took refuge at Theobalds, where, in November, his recently married young son-in-law, the eldest son of Lord Wentworth died. The letters written on this occasion from Walsingham[470] and Hatton[471] prove that the political opposition in the Council did not degenerate into personal enmity; indeed, nothing is more remarkable than the affectionate regard, and even reverence, which are constantly expressed by Lord Burghley’s correspondents towards him. An especially kind thought seems to have occurred to Walsingham. He suggests to Hatton that “it would be some comfort to his lady (i.e. Elizabeth Wentworth), if it might please you so to work with her Majesty, as his (Burghley’s) other son-in-law (Lord Oxford), who hath long dwelt in her Majesty’s displeasure, might be restored to her Highness’s good favour.”[472]
The Earl of Oxford had constantly been a source of trouble to Lord Burghley. He was extravagant, eccentric, and quarrelsome, and only by the exercise of great forbearance on the part of his father-in-law had any semblance of friendship been kept up. If on this occasion, as is probable, Hatton acceded to Walsingham’s suggestion, and persuaded the Queen once more to receive Oxford at court, it was not long before the intractable Earl again misbehaved himself; for on May of the following year (1583) his long-suffering father-in-law appealed to the new favourite, Ralegh, to exert his influence with the Queen to forgive him again. Ralegh’s answer,[473] giving a long account of his efforts to move the Queen, shows that Oxford had injured him also. “I am content,” he writes, “for your sake to lay the serpent before the fire, as much as in me lieth, that having recovered strength, myself may be most in danger of his poison and sting.”
As we have seen, Mary Stuart had never ceased, since the triumph of D’Aubigny, to negotiate through Mendoza for her release and restoration, and the subsequent invasion of England over the Scottish Border. The raid of Ruthven and the fall of D’Aubigny did not at first discourage her. She still believed that the expected arrival of foreign troops, and her son’s secret favour of the Catholics, would enable the plot to be carried through,[474] and under this belief it was that she wrote her violent letter of denunciation and complaint to Elizabeth (8th November).[475]
Almost simultaneously with the receipt of this letter in London there arrived the Guisan, La Mothe Fénélon, on his way to Scotland, for the purpose of inquiring into the treatment of D’Aubigny by the Protestant lords, uniting Mary and her son on the throne, and, if possible, to mediate with Elizabeth in favour of the captive Queen; whilst, at the same time, another envoy (De Maineville) was sent by sea with secret instructions to plan a fresh rising of the Catholic nobles in union with James. Castelnau, the regular Ambassador, might protest untruly to Elizabeth, as he did, that it was “une chose du tout contraire à la verité de dire que le Sieur De Maineville eut une seconde et particulière secrete instruction;” but the embassy was quite terrifying enough to Elizabeth, coming after the plots that she knew had been hatching between the Spaniards, the Jesuits, and D’Aubigny. Walsingham hurried from his country house to court the moment he heard of La Mothe Fénélon’s arrival, for all the official French plans for helping James and D’Aubigny had purposely been allowed to leak out. We know now that they were merely a trick of the Queen-mother’s to frighten Elizabeth into helping poor Alençon in the Netherlands, the only really serious part of them being De Maineville’s secret mission, which depended entirely upon Guise.[476] The Queen kept La Mothe dallying for weeks before she would give him a passport, whilst she tried to dazzle him anew with the talk of marrying Alençon and supporting him in Flanders. Before he left for Scotland, D’Aubigny had passed through London on his way to France, where he died shortly afterwards; and when La Mothe proceeded on his mission it was already too late, if ever it was intended to be effectual.
It is one of the standing reproaches to Lord Burghley’s memory that he was the constant enemy of Mary. In former chapters I have shown that this was not the case. That he was inflexible in tracing and punishing treason against his mistress and her Government is obvious, for it was his first duty as a minister; but how far he was from any personal enmity against the unfortunate Mary, may be seen in his many letters to Lord Shrewsbury at Hatfield and elsewhere. On the receipt of Mary’s imprudent letter to the Queen and the arrival of La Mothe in England, a Council was called to consider the removal of the Queen of Scots from the care of Shrewsbury. Mendoza says that “the Treasurer was greatly opposed to her being removed from the Earl’s house, where she had remained for fifteen years, especially as Shrewsbury had not failed fully to carry out his instructions. He said her removal would scandalise the country.”[477]
Burghley’s relative William Davison, in conjunction with Robert Bowes, was sent to Scotland at the same the time as La Mothe, to dissuade James from acceding to French suggestion of associating his mother with himself in his sovereignty; and Walsingham’s brother-in-law, Beale, was deputed to proceed to Sheffield for the purpose of negotiating with Mary with regard to her future.[478] Mary from the first had seen that the interference of Henry III. and his mother was a feint in favour of Alençon, and sent Fontenay to Mendoza whilst Beale was with her, to ask for his guidance in the negotiation.[479] Elizabeth had secretly authorised Beale, under certain circumstances, to offer Mary her release. This, Mendoza understood, was unfavourable to Spanish ends, because she would almost infallibly fall in such case into the hands of the French, or be compelled, if she stayed in England, to make such renunciations and compromises as would render her useless as an instrument with which to raise the Catholics. The Spaniard therefore naturally advised her to stay where she was, and the unhappy woman followed his interested advice. She gave Beale a somewhat unyielding answer, and her last chance of liberation fled.[480]
In the meanwhile Alençon continued to clamour for money, and repeated his vows of everlasting love and slavish submission; anything if Elizabeth would only send money to save him from becoming the laughing-stock of Europe. The Protestant Dutchmen were tired of him; Orange saw that he was a useless burden, and prayed Elizabeth to take her bad bargain back again. Seeing that he could expect but little from England, he obtained the help of his mother. Marshal Biron crossed the frontier into Flanders, and in January 1583 the false Valois endeavoured to seize and garrison with Frenchmen the strong places of the Netherlands. The affair failed, and Alençon fled from Antwerp detested and distrusted. The States disowned him, and Norris, the English general, refused to obey him; and though Elizabeth pretended to be angry with Sir John Norris and the Englishmen, she thought better of it when Alençon asked her to withdraw them and let his Frenchmen deal with the Flemings, for it was now clear that she could never trust him in Flanders alone.
With the invidious position into which Elizabeth’s tortuous policy had led her; almost hopeless as she was now of conciliating Spain, and conscious of having insulted France beyond forgiveness by her treatment of Alençon; with Orange discontented, and Scotland in a ferment, it is not strange that division existed in the Queen’s counsels. Burghley himself at this time was tired of the struggle. The fresh Councillors had not been appointed, and he had to contend with infinite diplomacy for every point that he carried. The general tendency of the Queen’s policy was opposed to his view of what was wise; he was now old and almost constantly ill, and either the Queen’s obduracy with regard to his unworthy son-in-law Oxford, or the opposition he constantly met with, led him to seek release from his offices, and to desire to pass the rest of his life in retirement. His complaint would rather seem to have been against the Queen herself, to judge from her very curious letter turning his desire to ridicule. On the 8th May 1583 she wrote:—
“Sir Spirit,[481] I doubt I do nickname you, for those of your kind, they say, have no sense. But I have of late seen an ‘Ecce Signum,’ that if an ass kick you, you feel it so soon. I will recant you from being a spirit if ever I perceive you disdain not such a feeling. Serve God, fear the King, and be a good fellow to the rest. Let never care appear in you for such a rumour; but let them well know that you rather desire the righting of such a wrong by making known their error, than you be so silly a soul as to foreslow that you ought to do, or not freely deliver what you think meetest, and pass of no man so much, as not to regard her trust who putteth it in you. God bless you, and long may you last omnino.
“E. R.”[482]