YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY HISTORY OF ENGLAND THE FALL OF WOLSEY TO THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA. Volume IX. REIGN OF ELIZABETH. LCXBOTT: ntriV'TED BY SPCTl'ISWOOUT! AND CO., KEW-STHE3T BQUARL AWD PARLIAMENT STREET HISTORY OF ENGLAND THE FALL OF WOLSEY THE DEFEAT OF THE SPMISH AEMADA. JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE, M.A. LATE FELLOW OF EXETER COLLEGE, OXFORD. Volume IX. REIGN OF ELIZABETH. LONDON : LONGMANS, fxEEEN. AND CO. 1870. - riqM of TrmnMum U rer.cmrl In thr Aulh«rS CONTENTS OF VOLUME IX. CHAPTER XIII. PAGE The murder of Darnley i Holyrood on the ioth of February ... „ 3 Reward offered for the discovery of the murderers ... 7 Excitement in Edinburgh 8 The Queen goes to Seton 10 Lennox requires her to assemble the Nobility 13 The Queen refuses 14 Political importance of the murder 16 Public opinion in Paris 17 Letter of the Spanish Ambassador in London 19 Opinion in England 20 Sir Henry KiUegrew sent to Scotland 22 Letter of Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots 23 Reception of Killegrew at Holyrood 25 History of the conspiracy against Darnley 27 Preparations for the Trial of Both well 30 Rumour of the intended marriage between the Queen and Bothwell 32 Remonstrances of the Queen's friends 33 BothweU makes advances to Murray 34 Murray leaves Scotland 36 Murray in London 37 Lennox petitions for a postponement of the Trial 40 The Petition is supported by Elizabeth 43 Scene at Holyrood on the 1 2th of April 44 The High Court of Justice 45 Acquittal of Bothwell 49 vi Contents. PAGE Meeting of the Scottish Parliament 51 Ainslie's Supper 52 The Lords apply to Elizabeth 54 Letter from Grange to Cecil 55 Second Letter of Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots 56 Difficulties in Bothwell 's position 5° Conspiracy to carry off the Queen 59 The Queen at Stirling 63 Bothwell carries the Queen to Dunbar 64 Combination of the Lords 66 Application to Elizabeth 67 Bothwell divorced from his Wife 71 Bothwell and the Queen return to Edinburgh 72 The Queen marries Bothwell 74 Coldness of France towards the Queen 76 The Bishop of Dunblane is sent to Paris 78 Resolution of the Lords to seize Bothwell 80 Borthwiek Castle 81 Ballad on the Murder of Darnley 83 Bothwell and the Queen advance on Edinburgh 86 Carberry Hill 88 Flight of Bothwell and capture of the Queen ... 93 Conversation between Maitland and Du Croc 95 The Queen refuses to abandon Bothwell 97 Proposal to kill the Queen 98 Lochleven Castle 99 Proclamation of the Lords 100 CHAPTER XIV. Mission of De Villeroy 103 Elizabeth declares against the Lords 106 Sir Nicholas Throgmorton is sent to Scotland no Elizabeth promises to help the Queen 112 Hamilton and Stuart Factions 114 Statement of Sir James Balfour nc Seizure of the Casket Letters n7 Effect of the discovery ug Contents. vii Difference of opinion between Elizabeth and her Council Arrival of Throgmorton at Edinburgh Danger of Mary Stuart Knox advises her execution Maitland's opinion of Elizabeth Elizabeth threatens to invade Scotland Return of Murray from France Conversation between Murray and the Spanish Am bassador Throgmorton demands the release of the Queen The Lords propose to bring her to trial The Queen abdicates > Coronation of James VI Effect of Elizabeth's interference Elizabeth in correspondence with the Hamiltons The Hamiltons ready to consent to the Queen's death . . . Maitland and Throgmorton Advances of France to Murray... Mary Stuart's Prison Interview between Murray and his Sister Murray Regent of Scotland Extreme displeasure of Elizabeth She creates a Faction for the Queen Murray pacifies Scotland Grange goes in pursuit of Bothwell, who escapes to Denmark The Regent on the Borders Puritans and Catholics Elizabeth's Marriage The Archduke Charles again Lord Sussex goes to Vienna Difficulties of Religion The Negotiation is suspended Catholic reaction in England Philip II. expected in the Low Countries Elizabeth and Leicester The Archduke declines to come to England Death of Lady Catherine Grey Sussex threatens Leicester PAGB 121 123 124 125 128l3* J33 135x37 138 141 142144 146 148 150 i53157 158 162 164 166 168 169170171 x73 i75 176177178180182184 185 188189 Vlll Contents. The uncertainty of the succession Letter of the Spanish Ambassador to Philip II. Good Feeling of Philip towards Elizabeth PAGE I9O I9Ix93 CHAPTER XV. The Hamiltons make a Party for Mary Stuart Excellence of Murray's Government Reaction in favour of the Queen The Craigmillar Bond Meeting of the Scotch Parliament Declaratory Act against the Queen George Douglas Plans for the escape of the Queen The Queen leaves Lochleven The Gathering at Hamilton Elizabeth proposes to mediate Letter of Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots Murray at Glasgow Langside Defeat of the Queen's army Flight of Mary Stuart to the Solway Uncertainty as to her future course She crosses to England Reception in Cumberland ... Perplexity in Elizabeth's Council Mary Stuart at Carlisle Castle She is placed in charge of Sir Francis Knollys and Lord Scrope Knollys's impression of Mary Stuart's Character . . Lord Herries and Lord Fleming go up to Elizabeth Elizabeth prohibits further Hostilities She declines to see the Queen of Scots Replenishment of Mary Stuart's wardrobe Mary Stuart clamours to be heard Threatened investigation into the Murder of Darnley Fleming wishes to bribe Cecil 194197198 199 202204 207 210 212 214 2l8 2ig 221 224 225 227 231 232233 235239240 241 244245 247 250254 257 258 Contents. ix PAGK Elizabeth and Lord Herries 260 Preparation for the enquiry 262 Removal of Mary Stuart to Bolton 263 Elizabeth's difficulties 264 Plan for assimilating the Kirk to the Church of England 265 Mary Stuart professes conformity 267 Religious conferences with Sir F. Knollys 269 The French expected in Scotland 271 Letter of Lord Herries to the English Council 274 Intention of Elizabeth in the enquiry into the Murder of \-J it 1 11 1 C V ¦*• ••¦ a • ¦ ¦¦¦ »•¦ ••¦ ••• •¦¦ ••• a a ¦ Jij\J Commission appointed to sit at York 278 The Duke of Norfolk appointed President 279 Proposed marriage between Norfolk and Mary Stuart ... 280 Opening of the Commission 284 Insincerity of all Parties except Murray 286 Conditions on which Murray will advance his charges ... 287 Attempt to hush up the enquiry 289 The Commission is transferred to London 297 CHAPTER XVI. Piety and Dogmatic Theology Growth of the principle of toleration Religious parties in France Calvinism Extinction of Protestantism in Spain State of the Low Countries Philip II. and Heresy Last injunctions of Charles V ••• The Regent Margaret Insurrection of the United Provinces against the Edicts The Duke of Alva arrives at Brussels Defeat of Count Louis at Jemmingen Lutheran tendencies of Elizabeth Scene in the streets of London The Privateers 300 3°4 3°5 3063083°93X3 3*4 3*5 3*73^8320322324 326 x Contents. PAGE Expulsion of the English Ambassador from Spain 327 Don Guerau de Espes 328 Cardinal Chatillon is received in England- 331 Mary Stuart's Suitors ... 333 Resumption of the enquiry into the murder of Darnley 334 Mary Stuart endeavours to stifle it 338 The conference at Westminster 339 Murray accuses the Queen 340 Protests of the Queen's Commissioners 343 Murray produces the Casket Letters 347 The English Nobles pronounce them genuine 348 Elizabeth advises the Queen of Scots to confirm her abdication 351 Advice of Sir Francis Knollys 353 Gloomy Prospects of the Protestants on the Continent... 355 Toleration 356 Relations between Elizabeth and the Huguenots 357 Expedition of Sir John Hawkins to the Spanish Main ... 359 Destruction of the English Squadron at St. Jean de Luz 361 Spanish treasure ships in the English harbours Letter of Sir Arthur Champernowne The treasure is seized Arrest of English Ships in the Low Countries Probability of War with Spain The Queen of Scots' Friends meditate insurrection ... 371 Differences of opinion among the English Catholics ... 372 Arrest of the Spanish Ambassador 374 Factions in Elizabeth's Council 375 The Queen of Scots refuses to repeat her abdication ... 378 The Bishop of Ely 379 Plot to murder Murray 381 Lord Arundel works upon Elizabeth 384 Close of the enquiry 389 Indignation of Sir F. Knollys 390 General remarks on the evidence against the Queen of Scots :^| 393 Private opinion of the Bishop of Ross :, 400 3$2366367 36937° Contents. xi CHAPTER XVII. PAGE Catholic reaction in England 406 Review of the condition of the realm by Sir Wm. Cecil 407 Policy recommended by Cecil to the Queen 410 Discontent of the English Aristocracy 412 Philip adopts unwillingly the cause of the Queen of Scots 414 Description of parties in England by Don Guerau ... 417 Conflicting schemes in favour of Mary Stuart 420 Proposed marriage between Mary Stuart and the Duke of Norfolk 422 Conversation between Norfolk and Murray 423 Part of the Council in favour of the marriage 425 Double dealing of Norfolk 428 Trade opened with Hamburgh 429 EngUsh Rovers under the flag of the Prince of Conde ... 431 The Queen of Scots placed in charge of Lord Shrews bury 433 Danger of war with France 435 England protected by Spain ... 436 Irritation of Elizabeth against Cecil 437 Death of the Prince of Conde 438 Arundel and Norfolk conspire against Cecil 441 Intended Rebellion 442 France and Spain 444 The Norfolk Marriage 445 Plan to destroy Cecil 447 Cecil separates Norfolk from the Catholic Lords 449 Proposals for Mary Stuart's restoration 451 Pretended iUness of Mary Stuart 452 The Council communicate with her about her marriage with Norfolk 453 Her answer 455 Difficulties in Scotland 457 Elizabeth determines to restore her 460 Capture of Paris the Page 461 The Lords of Scotland refuse to receive the Queen ... 462 The Catholic Nobility in England prepare to rebel ... 466 They are rejoined by Norfolk 468 47x xii Contents. Vote of the Council in favour of Mary Stuart's suc cession Elizabeth removes to Richmond 473 Norfolk fears to ask her to consent to his marriage with the Queen of Scots 474 Letter of Don Guerau to Alva 475 Elizabeth forbids the marriage 477 Norfolk leaves the Court ... 479 Mary Stuart urges him to take arms 481 He retires to Framlingham 482 Seizure of the Queen of Scots' papers 483 The Duke of Norfolk being summoned to the Queen's presence, after some hesitation obeys 484 He is arrested and committed to the Tower 486 CHAPTER XVIII. Fresh uncertainties about the Queen of Scots 490 Resolution to hold her a prisoner 493 Investigation into the conspiracy 495 Norfolk promises to think no more of the Queen of Scots 497 Temper of the Northern Counties 498 Christofer Norton at Bolton Castle 499 The intended rebellion disconcerted 502 Council at Topcliff 503 Chapin Vitelli comes to England 505 Enforcement of the Act of Uniformity 507 Proposal to seize York 510 The Earls of Westmoreland and Northumberland 511 Outbreak of the insurrection 513 The gathering at Raby 514 Mass in Durham Cathedral 515 Lord Sussex at York 517 The Earls march for Tutbury to release the Queen of O00XS ••• ••• ••• ••• ••• a a a • • • asa ,,B .., *5 I O Preparations of Alva 524 She is carried to Coventry ,. 525 Contents. xm The Southern Counties remain quiet, and the Earls retire Universal disloyalty in Yorkshire Elizabeth raises an army The Earl of Westmoreland takes Barncastle The Queen's forces arrive at Doncaster The Earls fly to Scotland Conversation between Elizabeth and La Mothe F6nelon The Spaniards seek a reconciliation with her Causes of the failure of the rebellion 528529 53°533 535539 54i 543 544 Address of the Gentlemen of Lincolnshire to Philip II. ... 545 Murray and Maitland of Lethington Arrest of Maitland Capture of the Earl of Northumberland The Earl of Westmoreland at Jedburgh Elizabeth demands the extradition of the Rebels Lord Hunsdon's opinion of her conduct Punishment of the insurgents The sufferers chiefly the least guilty Extreme severity towards the poorer classes Principles of English Justice Sir Robert Constable employed to entrap the Earl of Westmoreland Murray's position in Scotland ... The Hamiltons conspire to kill him Bothwellhaugh and his Brothers Murder of Murray at Linlithgow Character of Murray Feeling in Scotland Leonard Dacres at Naworth Battle on the Gelt River, and flight of Dacres Letter from Elizabeth to Lord Hunsdon ... . 548 55i 553554 555 557 561562564 566 5^9571 575577 580 582584 589 593595 CHAPTER XIII. 1567 Feb 10 ENORMOUS crimes are not subjects on which it is ChapXIII desirable to encourage an interest, and had the as sassination of Darnley been no more than a vulgar act of wickedness— had the mysteries connected with it and the results arising from it extended only to the persons, the motives, and the escape or punishment of the perpe trators or their accessories, it might have remained a problem for curious speculation, but it would neither have deserved nor demanded the tedious attention of the historian. Those events only are of permanent im portance which have either affected the fortunes of nations, or have illustrated in some signal manner the character of the epochs at which they have occurred. If the tragedy at Kirk o' Field had possessed no claim for notice on the first of these grounds, deeds of violence were too common in the great famihes of Scotland in the sixteenth century to have justified a minute consideration of a single special act of villany. But the death of the husband of the Queen of Scots belongs to that rare class of incidents which, like the murder of Caesar, have touched the interests of the entire educated world. Perhaps there is no single recorded act, arising merely out of private or personal ELIZ. III. B 2 History of England. Chapxiii passions, of which the public consequences have been I567 so considerable. The revolution through which Scot-. Feb 10 \anci and England were passing was visibly modified by it; it perplexed the counsels and complicated the policy of the great Catholic Powers of the Continent; while the ultimate verdict of history on the character of the greatest English statesman of the age must depend upon the opinion which the eventual consent of man kind shall accept on the share of the Queen of Scots herself in that transaction. If the Queen of Scots was the victim of a conspiracy, which at the present day and with imperfect knowledge can nevertheless be seen through and exposed, it is impossible to believe that men like Sir William Cecil, Sir Nicholas Bacon$ or Lord Bedford were deceived by so poor a con trivance; and as the vindication of the conduct of the English Government proceeds on the assumption of her guilt, so the determination of ner innocence will equally be the absolute condemnation of Elizabeth and Eliza beth's advisers. Yet the difficulty of the investigation has been . occasioned only by the causes which make it necessary. Had the question been no more than personal, it would long ago have been decided ; but we have to do with a case on which men have formed their opinions, not on the merits of the evidence, but through the passions or traditions of the party to which they have belonged. The interests of the Catholics required at , the time that a plea of innocence on behalf of the Queen of Scots should formally be preferred before the world. The same cause, reinforced by the later political sympa thies of the adherents of the Stuarts, converted after- 1 wards the formal plea into a real one. And thus things once considered certain, and against which no The Reign of Elizabeth. 3 contemporary evidence can be adduced deserving to be Chapxiii called by the name, have been made doubtful by the ~^~ mere effect of repeated denial. Conjectures have been Feb '° converted into facts by hardy assertions; and now, when the older passions are cooling down, sentimental- ism prolongs the discussion with the materials accumu lated to its hand. It is therefore of the highest importance to ascertain the immediate belief of the time at which the murder took place, while party opinions were still unshaped and party action undetermined. The reader is invited to follow the story as it unfolded itself from day to day. He will be shown each event as it occurred, with the impressions which it formed upon the minds of those who had best means of knowing the truth. He will see the judgment passed upon the conduct of the Queen of Scots, both by friend and foe, before the explanations and interpretations which form her general defence had as yet been put forward by her advocates ; and thus, when he comes to the circumstances under which these explanations were laid before the world, he will be in a position to judge for himself the degree of credibility which attaches to them. Taking up the narrative therefore where it was left in the xoth chapter of this history, the reader will con sider himself at Holyrood on the morning of the ioth of February. By the time that day had broken, the King's death, and the apparent manner of it, was known throughout the town. The people were rushing about the streets. The servants of the Court were talking eagerly in knots about the quadrangle of the palace. It was ascertained at the lodge that the Earl of Both- well or some of his people had passed out after the Queen had returned the preceding night, and had b2 4 History of England. ChapXIII entered again after the explosion. An instinct, ex- ' "7^7 plained by the character of the man, pointed at once Feb IO to the earl as the assassin ; and as Paris the French page crossed the court to his master's room, ' all men looked askance at him,' and read guilt in his white cheeks and shuffling movements.1 The Ormistons, Dalgleish, Powry, Hepburn, and the other conspirators were already collected as he entered. Bothwell asked him savagely why he stood shaking there, with such a hangdog look upon him. He said miserably that he was afraid of being found out and punished. ' You ?' said the Earl, glaring at him — ' you ? Yes, you are a likely person to be suspected. Look at these 1 Nicholas Hubert, alias French Paris, was Bothwell's page. He left Scotland soon after the murder, being too much terrified to remain there, and for eighteen months was supposed to have been drowned. But he had probably spread the report himself, that there might be no further enquiry after him. It was discovered afterwards that he had rejoined his master in Denmark, and in the early summer of 1569 the Regent Murray or the Regent Murray's friends got possession ofhis person 'by policy.' In some way or other he was kidnapped and brought over to Leith. His capture was carefully kept secret. He was taken privately to St. Andrews, where the Regent happened to be, and examined by George Buchanan, Robert Ramsay, Murray's steward, and John Wood, his confidential secretary. Paris made two deposi tions, the first not touching Mary Stuart, the second fatally implicating her. This last was read over in his presence. He signed it, and was then executed, that there might be no retractation or contradiction. The haste and the concealment were in tended merely to baffle Elizabeth, who it was feared would attempt to get hold of him and suppress his evidence. She did in fact hear that he was in the Regent's hands, and she instantly wrote to desire that his life might be spared, but it was too late to be of use to the poor wretch. The anticipation of her in terference had hastened his death; he was hanged before her letter arrived, and his deposition counter-' signed by the examiners, which is now in the Record Office, was for warded in reply. — Depositions and declarations of Nicholas Hubert, August, 1569. MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. Depositions of French Paris, printed in Pitcairn's Criminal Trials, and in Goodall, vol. ii. p. 76. For the account of Paris's capture and Elizabeth's letters, see also MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 5 gentlemen. They have lands and goods, wives and chil- Chapxiii dren, and they have risked them all in my service. The ~^~ sin, if sin it be, is mine, not yours. I tell you the Lords Peb I0 of Scotland have done this deed. A wretch like you is safe in your insignificance.' Collecting his spirits as he could, Paris went to the apartments of the Queen, where Bothwell followed him directly after. Mary Stuart had slept soundly, but was by this time stirring. The win dows were still closed. The room was already hung with black, and lighted with candles. She herself was breakfasting in bed, eating composedly, as Paris ob served, a new-laid egg.1 She did not notice or speak to him, for Bothwell came close behind and talked in a low voice with her behind the curtain. Whatever may or may not have been her other bad qualities, timidity was not one of them ; and if she was innocent of a share in the murder, her self-possession was equally remarkable. Her husband, the titular King of Scotland, had been assassinated the night before in the middle of Edinburgh, not two hours after she had her self left his side. The perpetrators were necessarily men about the Court, and close to her own person. She pro fessed to believe that she was herself the second object of the conspiracy, yet she betrayed neither surprise nor alarm. The practical energy at other times so remark able was conspicuously absent. She did not attempt to fly. She sent for none of the absent noblemen to pro tect her ; the vigour, the resolution, the fiery earnest ness which she had shown on the murder of Rizzio — 1 ' Le Lundy matin entre neuf et et de la chandelle al'lumee dedans dix heures, le diet Paris diet qu'il icelle, la ou Madame de Bryant luy entre dans la chambre de la Reyne, donnoit a dejeuner d'ung ceuf frais.' laquelle estoit bien close, et son lict — Second deposition of Paris, Pit- la tendu du noire en signede deuil, CAnuf, vol. i. part z, p. 509. 6 History of England. Chapxiii of these there was no outward symptom. Leaving the i567 conspirators to meet in council and affect to deliberate, e IO she spent her morning in writing a letter to the Arch bishop of Glasgow, her ambassador in Paris, informing him of the catastrophe : declaring her resolution, which it might have been thought unnecessary to insist upon, of punishing the murderers as soon as they should be discovered. But she took no active steps to discover them. Lennox, Darnley's father, was at Glasgow or near it, but she did not send for him. Murray was within reach, but she did not seem to desire his pre sence; although she told the Archbishop that only acci dent had interfered with her intention of spending the previous night at Kirk o' Field, — that ' whoever had taken the enterprise in hand, it had been aimed as well at herself as at the King, since the providence of God , only had prevented her from sleeping in the house which was destroyed.'1 Later in the day a despatch came in from the Arch bishop himself, containing a message to her from Catherine de Medici that her husband's life was in danger, and another letter to the same effect from the Spanish Ambassador in London; but, alas ! as she said in her reply, ' the intimation had come too late.' The plot, it seems, was known in Paris, and known to de Silva ; yet she, if she was to be believed, was innocent of all suspicion of it. ' The letter of the Queen of Scots past, being February 9; and in a to the Archbishop is printed both by second letter, written a week after, Keith and Labanoff. It is dated she says, ' we received your letter February 11. But there is an evi- upon the 10th of this instant, and dent mistake, or the Queen added the that same day wrait to you.' Mary date the day after the letter was writ- Stuart to the Archbishop of Glasgow, ten, for she describes the murder as February 18.— Labanoef, vol. ii. having been committed on the night 1 Buchanan. ladyi Sir William Drury, writing 2 Margaret Douglas, wife of Sir to Cecil, said: 'I dare not deliver Walter Scott of Buccleuch, was the unto your honour the Lady Buc- daughter of the Earl of Angus, and cleuch's speech, yea openly, of cousin of Morton. Like her sister her telling the cause that she bred Lady Reres, she had been one of the his greatness with the Queen by, nor many mistresses of Bothwell, and it of her speech of the Queen, nor of was by her that the Earl had been his insatiatehess towards women.' — especially recommended to the notice Drury to Cecil, May 1567- Border of Mary Stuart. She does not MSS., Rolls House. appear to have been a very modest Feb 12 The Reign of Elizabeth. 7 In the afternoon there was a faint show of investiga- Chap xiii tion. Argyle and Bothwell went to inspect the ruins. ~^~ The body was brought down to Holyrood, and the servants who had survived the explosion and the in habitants of the adjoining, houses were sent for and questioned. They could tell but little, for who, it was said, ' dared accuse Bothwell, who was doer, judge, enquirer, and examiner?'1 Even so, however, and in the midst of their alarm, awkward hints and facts were blurted out Which it was desirable to keep back, and the witnesses were not pressed any further* The next morning (Tuesday) a proclamation appeared, signed by Bothwell, Maitland, and Argyle^ offering a reward of 2,oooZ.- for the discovery of the murderer, with a free pardon to any accomplice who would con fess. In the evening, after duskj an anonymous placard was fixed against the door of the Tolbooth, accusing Bothwell and Sir James Balfour as the immediate per petrators, and containing, in addition, the ominous words, ' that the Queen was an assenting party, through the persuasion of the Earl Bothwell ahd the witchcraft of the Lady Buccleuch.' 2 Surrounded by his own retainers, with every member of the Council at Edinburgh, if not as guilty as himself 8 History of England. ChapXhi yet implicated too deeply to act against him, Both- IS67~ well met the challenge with open defiance. In a se- Feb I3 eond proclamation he invited his accuser to come for ward, prove his . charge, and claim his reward. An answer instantly appeared, again unsigned, but declaring that if the 2,000^. was produced and was deposited in some indifferent hand, and if two of the Queen's ser vants, Bastian, and Joseph Rizzio, David's brother, were arrested, the writer, and ' four others with him,' would declare themselves and make good their words. Per haps the names mentioned suggested too close a know ledge of dangerous facts. The men were not arrested, and the Council said no more ; but as the silence and inaction continued, the tongues of all men were loosed, and the thoughts which were in the minds of everyone burst into the air. Midnight cries were heard in the wynds and alleys of Edinburgh, crying for vengeance upon the Queen and Bothwell. Each day as it broke showed the walls pasted with ' bills,' in which their names were linked together in an infamous union of crime— and, bold as they were, they were startled at the passionate instinct with which their double guilt had. been divined. Fifty desperate men guarded the Earl whenever he appeared in the street, If he spoke to anyone 'not assured his friend, his hand was on his dagger hilt ; ' and he swore savagely, ' that if he knew who were the setters-up of the bills and writings, he would wash his hands in their blood.' x The atmosphere of Edinburgh grew unpleasant. The Court thought of removing into easier and safer quar ters at Stirling, and an intimation was conveyed to Lord Mar, who was in charge of the castle, that the Queen 1 Drury to Cecil, February 28.— Border MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. y wished to be his guest. Mar, however, declined to Chapxiii admit within the gates a larger force than he could keep Ij67 in order, and Bothwell dared not leave his followers Fel1 16 • behind him. The hereditary guardian of the Prince was too important a person to quarrel with, and it was ne cessary to put up with the refusal,1 Secured as he was of the support or silence of the principal noblemen, Bothwell had evidently not been prepared for such an outburst of emotion about a mere murder. A thrust with a dirk or a stroke with a sword was the time-hallowed and custom-acknowledged method of ridding the world of an enemy. The pitiful desertion of his companions after Rizzio's murder had left Darnley almost without a single friend ; and but for a new spirit which was pouring with the Reformation into Scottish hfe, the mere destruction of a troublesome boy would have been but the wonder of a day, forgotten in the next tragedy. This change of times, however, was not understood till it was felt, and it was supposed that a short absence of the Court would give time for passion to cool. Forty days of close seclusion was the usual period prescribed for Royal mourning; but the Queen found the confinement injurious to hgr health, and as Stirling was impracticable, she turned her thoughts elsewhere.2 Darnley was privately buried at 1 ' The Earl of Mar is not the best sion. As to the forty days of liked of, for he might have had mourning, he said, which ought to guests. But he will have no more have been kept, 'Kings might be than such as he may rule. He hath mourned for in that way; but Darn- been dealt with, but he will not ley was only a king by courtesy; yield.' — Sir William Drury to Cecil, he was a subject, and took his February 19. Border MSS. honour from his wife, and therefore '' Leslie, Bishop of Ross, the first her Grace mourned after another champion ' of Queen Mary's honour,' sort.' — Defence of Queen Mary's gives a singular reasonfor her neglect Honour, printed by Anderson. of the u'sual observance on this occa- 10 History of England. Chapxiii Holyrood on the night of the 15th; his horses and iS67 clothes were given to Bothwell ; l ahd on the morning Eeb l6 of the 1 6th, Mary Stuart, attended by Bothwell, Huntly, Argyle, Maitland, Lords Fleming, Livingston, and a hundred other gentlemen, rode away to the house of Lord Seton, near Preston Pans.- The Archbishop of St. Andrews, the Primate of Scotland, gave the party the sanction of his right reverend presence. As a Hamilton, he could not but look with favour on the destruction of the heir of the rival house of Lennox. The Queen was committing herself to a course, of which the end, to his experienced eye's, was tolerably clear; and Mary Stuart once out of the way, Chate'lherault, by prescriptive right, would again become Regent, and the baby-Prince alone remain between the house of Hamil ton and the Scottish crown.2 Lord Seton entertained the royal party in person. The Queen, relieved from the suggestions and remi niscences of Edinburgh, recovered rapidly from the indisposition which was the excuse of her departure. The daj^s were spent in hunting and shooting, varied only with the necessary attention to immediate and pressing* business. Elizabeth was to be written to. She could not be left without formal information of her cousin's death; and Sir Robert Melville, whom Eliza beth knew and liked, was chosen as the bearer of the 1 The clothes were sent to a tailor time. Sir William Drury wrote, to be altered for their new owner. 'It is judged the Bishop of St. The tailor said it was the custom of Andrews encourages the Queen and the country, the clothes of the dead Bothwell in this manner to proceed were always the right of the hang- not from any goodwill to either of man.— Caxderwood. them, but for both their destructions 2 The false dealing of the Hamil- the rather to bring his friends to tons, which in the sequel will appear their purpose.' — Drury to Cecil, May more clearly, was seen through at the 6. Border MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 11 communication. The Queen of England had objected so Chapxiii strongly to the original marriage with Darnley, and i567 had been so indignant and alarmed at the consumma- 'bbl6 tion of it, that it was doubtless expected that she would accept placidly the news that he was put out of the way. To 'sweeten the information still further, and remove all possible unpleasantness, Mary Stuart em powered Melville to say that she was now prepared to yield on the great point which she had so long con tested, to ratify the disputed clause in the Treaty of Leith, and abandon her pretensions to Elizabeth's crown.1 In France also there were special matters to be ar ranged with convenient speed. More than once already Mary Stuart had experienced the inconvenience of the unprotected condition, in which she Hved at Holyrood. The sovereign, though feudal head of the military force of the kingdom, yet commanded the services of the lieges only through the noblemen to whom they owed their first obedience ; and while the Earl of Argyle had but to raise his finger and 5,000 breechless followers would be ready at the moment to follow him through life and death, the sovereign, if the nobles held aloof, commanded but the scanty services of the scattered vassals of the crown lands. The present prospects of the Court were at least precarious. She felt that neither she herself nor Both- well would be the worse for the presence of a foreign 1 ' Quant aux trois choses qui m'ont 6 ou 7 ans passe'es en estoit faict, estee communiquez par Melville, vous promettant que je lademandois j'entends par toutes ces instructions aultant pour vostre bien que pour que continueze n grande envie de me quelque profit qui m'en resouldra. ' — satisfaire, et qu'il vous contentera Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots, Fe- d'octroyer la requeste que my lord bruary 24, 1567. MSS. Scotland, Bedford vous faict en mon nom pour Rolls House. la ratification de vostre traicte" qui 12 History of England. Chapxiii guard undistracted by the passions of Scottish factions. ,S67 She had, therefore, already begun the arrangements for Feb 16-24 the enrolment of a company of French harquebus-men. Her French dowry would pay -for them. They could be called the Prince's Guard, and Bothwell could com mand them. The times were growing more urgent,' and she wrote a second letter from Seton House to the Archbishop of Glasgow, desiring him to ask at once for the unpaid arrears which were owing to her; to accept no refusal; if he could not get the whole, to take as much as the Court would give; and she would then send over some one to enlist men for her service.1 As to the murder, it was evidently hoped that nothing more need be said or done about it. The alteration which had passed over the Scottish people with the Reformation, the responsibility to European opinion, the sense of which was spreading every where with the growth of intellectual light, was un felt and unconjectured by the party assembled at Seton; and as long as Huntly, Bothwell, and Argyle held to gether and held with the Queen, they commanded- a force which for the present there was no one able to encounter. But the Earl of Lennox, though unable to act, 1 'And for the company of men-at- we can be content to place in that arms, we pray you use even the like room. Upon your advertisement we diligence to have the matter brought shall send thither either the lieute- to pass in favour of the Prince our nant or some qualified personage for son, as we mentioned in our other him to take up his company, being letters sent you for that purpose; aforehand assured by you that he and although the whole company's shall speed and not find his travel payment cannot be granted, leave frustrate; for otherwise we would not off but take that which shall be be loathe that our proceeding should be offered. The captain must be our hnmon.'—Mary Stuart to the Arch- son; for the lieutenant there is bishop of Glasgmo, February 18. none in that country (France) whom Labanoff, vol. ii. The Reign of Elizabeth. 13 was not disposed to sit down thus passively. The Chapxiii Queen of Scots had written civilly to him, and ls6? had professed a wish to be guided by his advice; March but he knew Mary's character too well to trust im plicitly her general and smooth professions. He must have known the fears which Darnley had himself expressed before his removal to Kirk o' Field. He had seen him during his illness, and could hardly have been deceived about the character of it. He must have heard from Crawford the particulars of Mary Stuart's visit to Glasgow; and if the people generally, on mere outward grounds of suspicion, were already fastening upon the Queen as an accomplice in the murder, no doubt at all could have rested in the mind of Lennox. Not daring to repair to Edinburgh, he remained watching the direction of events at his house at Houston in Renfrewshire, and from thence he replied to the Queen's letter with a demand that she should instantly assemble the entire nobility of the realm to investigate the extraordinary catastrophe. The propriety of such a course was so obvious, that if the Queen had really desired that the truth should be discovered, she would have adopted it of her own accord. No enquiry was possible while the Court and administration were under the control of a single faction. Mary Stuart, however, calmly answered that she had already ' caused proclaim a Parliament,' which would meet in the spring. Nothing would then be left un done to further the trial of the matter, and it was unnecessary to anticipate their assembly. Lennox rejoined that a murder was no 'Parliament matter.' Time was passing away, and the assassin might fly the realm in the interval. Particular persons had been publicly accused, and at least Her Majesty might order 14 History of England. Chapxiii the arrest of those persons, call the Lords together, "7^7 and invite the denouncers to present their evidence. March t g0j> ^g sa[^ i shall y0ur Majesty do an honourable and godly act in bringing the matter to sic a narrow point, ' as either it shall appear plainly, or else the tickets shall be found vain of themselves, and the parties slandered be exonerated and put to liberty.' x A call of the Peers would have brought up Murray,; Atholl, Mar, and possibly others who, if not Darnley's friends, yet would feel the enormity of' the murder, and had no interest in the concealment of the criminals. Under their protection the yet warm scent of the as sassins could be traced, some or other of them be caught, and the truth made known. It is impossible to believe that Mary Stuart desired any such result. Quite evidently she desired to ' tract1 time,' that the excitement might die away. She answered that she could not assemble the Lords before the Parliament, ' as they would think double convening heavy to them; ' as to apprehending the persons named in the tickets on the Tolbooth door, .there were so many that she did not know on which ticket to proceed ; but, treating Lennox as if it concerned him only and not herself or public justice at all, she said that if among those accused there was any one whom he desired to have brought to trial, ' upon his advertise ment she would proceed to the cognition takitig.' 2 But Mary Stuart was not to escape so easily. Al though Darnley's rank and the wild manner of his death had startled people into more than usual attention, 1 Correspondence between the printed by Keith and by Labanoff. Earl of Lennox and the Queen of 2 Ibid. Scots, February and March, 1567, The Reign of Elizabeth. 15 had no interests circled about the Queen beyond those Chapxiii which touched herself and her own subjects, the murder ,,67 might have passed but as one bad deed of a lawless Marcl1 age. But Mary Stuart and her proceedings were of exceptional importance, far beyond the limits of her own kingdom. "Whether the Huguenots should maintain themselves in France — whether the Netherlands were to preserve their liberties in the wrestling-match which was about to open with Spain — whether, in fact, the Pope and the Catholics were to succeed or fail in the great effort now to be made to trample out the Reformation — these vast matters depended on whether England should be Catholic or Protestant; and whether England, for that generation or that century, should be Catholic or Protestant depended on whether Mary Stuart was or was not to be looked to as the heir- presumptive to Elizabeth's crown. It has been seen that the marriage with Darnley had been considered and brought about among the English Catholics with a single view to this end. The proposal when first thought of had been submitted to Philip the Second, and had received his sanction as a step of supreme importance towards the reunion of England with Rome ; while the fear and jealousy with which the marriage had been regarded by Elizabeth and Cecil showed how large advantage the Catholic cause had gained by it. Darnley stood next to Mary Stuart in the line of succession. He was an English subject, and the national jealousy of aliens did not extend to him. His own peculiar party in England, fostered as it had been by his mother's intrigues, had been as large at one time as that of the Scottish Queen herself: and to the Great Powers, who were considering how best to recover England from heresy, the union of the two pretensions had been a 16 History of England. Chapxiii triumph of political adroitness, and a matter of special I567 gratitude to Providence. Thus when it was first whis- March pered that the Queen 0f gcots and her husband were on bad terms, their differences became a prominent subject in the correspondence of the Spanish Court. Thus when darker rumours stole abroad, that Darnley's life was in danger, the Cardinal of Lorraine wrote to put the Queen on her guard; and the Spanish ministers both in London and Paris took upon themselves to warn her ' well to govern herself, and take heed whom she did trust.' 1 Thus when it became known that he was actually dead, the Queen of Scots, in the first heat of disappointment, was regarded as having trifled away the interests of a great cause, for no object but her own private indulgence. She had been admitted as a partner in a game, in which the stake was the future of the world, and she had wrecked the prospects of her party in a petty episode of intrigue and folly. The opinion of Paris was as decided, and as decidedly expressed, as the opinion of Edinburgh. The Arch bishop of Glasgow, when her letter reached him, did his best to persuade people to accept her version of the story. But Mary Stuart was too well known at the French Court, and so far from being able to convince others of her innocence, the Archbishop evidently was unable to convince himself ' He would,' he said in answer to her, ' he would he could make her understand what was said of the miser- . able state of Scotland, the dishonour of the nobility, the mistrust and treason of her subjects.' 'Yea, she herself was greatly and wrongously calumnit to be motive principal of the whole, and all done by her 1 Drury to Cecil, February 14.— Border MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth 17 order.' He gathered from Her Majesty's letter that it Chapxiii ' had pleased God to preserve her to take vigorous ven- "7TZ~ geance.' ' He could but say that rather than that ven- March geance were not taken, it were better in this world had she lost life and all.' ' Now was the time for her to show that she deserved that reputation for religion which she had gained for herself, by showing the fruits of it, and doing such justice as to the whole world might de clare her innocency.' ' There is sa mickle ill spoken,' he concluded, ' that I am constrained to ask you mercy that I cannot make the rehearsal thereof. Alas, Madam ! all over Europe this day there is no purpose in hand so frequent as of your Majesty and of the present state of your realm, whilk is for the most part interpreted sinisterly.' 1 Mary Stuart would have rather heard from the Archbishop that he had obtained the money for her bodyguard, and his letter must have increased her anxiety for their arrival. If she was innocent all this time, the ground must have been prepared beforehand with marvellous skill. Before any evidence, genuine or forged, had been produced against her, on the first news of the catastrophe, the general instinct had settled upon her as the principal offender. If there be a diffi culty in believing that so young a Princess would have lent herself to such a crime, it is singular that her friends in Paris, who were most interested in her well-doing, should have jumped so readily to so hard a conclusion. It has been already mentioned2 that among the first to bring the news to London was Moret, minis ter of the Duke of Savoy at Mary Stuart's Court, 1 The Archbishop of Glasgow to Mary Stuart, March 6, printed by Keith. 2 Supra, cap. 10. ELIZ. III. C 18 History of England.- Chapxiii in whose train David Rizzio had originally come to ,567 Scotland. The opinion of Moret — a Catholic, a warm March frjeild of the Queen, and fresh from the scene — is of considerable moment. The second day after the murder he hurried away from Edinburgh, ' better pleased with his return,' as he explained to Sir William Drury on his passage through Berwick, than when he went that way to the scene of his embassy. On reach ing London he hastened to the Spanish Ambassador. He was cautious in what he said, but when de Silva cross-questioned him about the Queen, although he did not expressly condemn her, he said not a word in her exculpation, and left the ambassador certainly to infer that he suspected her to have been guilty. y He men tioned, among other circumstances, one which had left a painful impression upon him. Darnley, it seems, had intended to present a pair of horses to the Duke of Savoy, and a day or two before his death had told the Queen that he wished to see Moret. She had said in answer that Moret was so angry about Rizzio's murder that he would not go near him : she had not the slightest ground for such a statement, and had only wished to prevent the interview. 2 On the 19th, Sir Robert Melville arrived with Mary Stuart's letter. From him de Silva learnt further par ticulars, but again nothing to reassure him. Melville indeed said that the Queen was innocent ; but he grew confused when he was pressed closely,3 and his defence 1 'Por las qualesparece que induce palabra no la salbo nada.' — De Silva sospecha de haber sabido 0 permitido to Philip, March 1, 1567. MS. Si- la Reyna este tratado ; y aun apun- mancas. tandole que me dixese lo que le 2 Hnd. parecia conforme a lo que el habia s ' Veole algo confuso.'— Be Silva visto y colegido, si la Reyna tenia to Philip, Feb. 22. MS. Ibid. culpa dello, aunque no la condeno de The Reign of Elizabeth. 19 was made more difficult when it became known that, Chap xiii instead of remaining in retirement at Holyrood, the I567 Queen was amusing herself with her cavaliers at Seton. Maroh Among the loudest to exclaim agamst her was Lady Margaret Lennox, Darnley's mother, the maker of the match which had ended so disastrously. This lady had been hitherto expiating her offences in that matter in a room in the Tower. She was released immediately after the murder, and was besieging the Court with her clamours. Melville complained of her language to de Silva, but de Silva could not refuse to sympathise with her. ' I told Melville,' he wrote, ' that I was not surprised. The wisest men would at times forget themselves in ex cess of sorrow, much more a woman in a case so piteous. For it is not she alone who suspects the Queen to be guilty of the murder ; there is a general opinion that it has been done in revenge for the Italian secretary.1 The heretics declare her guilt to be certain, their dislike of her assisting their suspicions. The Catho lics are divided. The King's party are violent and angry. Her own friends defend her. It is scarcely conceivable that a Princess who had given so many proofs of piety and virtue should have consented to such a business: but should it so turn out to have been, she will lose many friends, and the restoration of the Catholic faith in this realm through her in strumentality will have become more difficult. I have done all that was possible both with the Queen of England and others, as in your Majesty's service I am bound to do ; and inasmuch as the interests at stake are so considerable, I have entreated her Highness to 1 De Silva to Philip, Feb. 22, — MS. Simancas. 20 History of England. ChapXhi take no positive step without consulting those who are Ij67 good friends to your Majesty. However it be, the March consequences cannot fail to be serious. This Queen, perhaps, may use the opportunity to interfere in Scotland, not for any love which she felt for the, late King, but for her own purposes, the circumstances ap pearing to furnish her with a reasonable excuse.'1 The belief in Mary Stuart's innocence, it thus ap pears, was limited to a single fraction of the English Catholics— in other words, to those whose interests in clined them to a favourable judgment of her. But there was one person who, if the popular theory of the relation between the two sovereigns is correct, should have rushed at once, under all the influence of pubhc and personal jealousy, to the most unfavourable con clusion, and yet who suspended her judgment and re mained incredulous. Elizabeth herself received the news of the murder with profound emotion. She was in mourning when she admitted Moret to an audience. Melville and his message were both eminently unsatis factory, and she was convinced that there was some con cealed mystery which the Queen of Scots could have explained more fully if she had chosen. Measures of precaution were taken at the palace for the better security of Elizabeth's own sleeping-rooms, and the guard was sifted and scrutinised. She told de Silva that, much as she had disapproved of the marriao-e the murdered Prince was her cousin, and she must insist upon an enquiry into the circumstances; yet, however the world might murmur, she could not be lieve that the Queen of Scots was herself accessory ' De S£™ * ™%> Feb. 17, The words in the text are extracted I-eb. 22, Feb. 26.— MS. Smumeas. from three different despatches. The Reign of Elizabeth. 21 to his death. She dwelt upon every point in the Chapxiii story which seemed to make for her. The report that 1567 she was gone with Bothwell to Seton she rejected as utterly incredible till it was proved beyond possibility of doubt. De Silva, notwithstanding his private opinion, en couraged her scepticism. More than one English noble man who had hitherto favoured the Scottish succession, had declared himself as intending for the future to advo cate the rival claims of Lady Catherine Grey, who, though dying slowly of harsh treatment, had yet some months of life before her, and had borne children of ambiguous legitimacy to inherit what right she possessed. Eliza beth regarded this unfortunate woman with a detestation and contempt beyond what she had felt at the worst times for Mary Stuart. De Silva knew her temper, and worked upon her jealousy by suggesting a likeli hood of some movement in Lady Catherine's favour.1 She said she would at once send some one down to Scotland t® enquire into the truth, and enable her to silence the scandalous reports which were flying. The Queen of Scots might have been deeply in fault'; she had been on bad terms with her husband; she had, perhaps, felt little regret for his death, and had been culpably unwilling to discover or punish the criminals; but Elizabeth was jealous of the honour of a sovereign princess, and this was the worst which she would allow. Both she and Cecil thought the opportunity a favour able one for terminating the disorders of Scotland, and saving Mary Stuart herself from the perils in which her carelessness and folly were involving her. If the 1 De Silva to Philip, Feb. 22, — MS. Simancas. 22 History of England. Chapxiii Treaty of Leith was now ratified, it had been all along ~7X" understood that the recognition pf Mary Stuart as March Elizabeth's heir would speedily follow. The two countries would then at no distant time be united, and the occasion might be used, when Mary Stuart's critical position would secure her compliance, to urge her to accept for herself the modified Protestantism of England, and to revive the old project of a preliminary union of the Churches. However unseasonable the intrusion of such a subject at such a crisis may at first sight appear, it proves at any rate that Elizabeth did not as yet contemplate the probability of a quarrel with her cousin as one of the consequences of the murder, or she would not have chosen the time to propose a measure which would necessarily draw them closer together. The more it. is considered, the more evidently it will be seen to have been a token of essential goodwill, and therefore in the main of confidence. Sir Henry Killegrew was chosen as the instrument of this well- intended but entirely useless diplomacy. He was directed to sound the ministers of the Kirk on the possibility of their being induced to consent; while Cecil by letter invited Maitland to work upon the Queen of Scots.1 This was part of Killegrew's mission. The other 1 Cecil's letter on the subject has I dare be bold enough to utter my not been found, but Maitland's an- fancy in it to Her Majesty, trusting swer to it survives. Maitland was that she will not like me the worse glad of anything which would divert for uttering my opinion and know- the minds of Elizabeth and Cecil ledge in that which is profitable for from dangerous ground. ' For the her every way ; and I do not despair mark,' he wrote, 'which you do but although she will not yield at wish in your letter I should shoot at, the first, yet with progress of time to wit that Her Majesty would allow that point shall be obtained.' — your estate in religion, it is one of Maitland to Cecil, March 13. MS. the things on earth I most desire. Scotland, Rolls House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 23 was to ascertain, as far as possible, the truth about Chapxiii the murder, and to impress on Mary Stuart herself a ~^j~ keener sense than she seemed to feel of her faults, of Marel1 her duties, and of her danger. It was the same advice which had been urged upon her by the Archbishop of Glasgow, and Elizabeth, to give it emphasis, wrote to her with her own hand : ' Madam,' she said, ' my ears have been so astounded, my mind so disturbed, my heart so shocked at the news of the abominable murder of your late husband, that even yet I can scarcely rally my spirits to write to you ; and however I would express my sympathy in your sorrow for his loss, so, to tell you plainly what I think, my grief is more for you than for him. Oh, Madam, I should ill fulfil the part either of a faithful cousin or of an affectionate friend, if I were to content myself with saying pleasant things to you and made no effort to preserve your honour. I cannot but tell you what all the world is thinking. Men say that, instead of seizing the murderers, you are looking through your fingers while they escape ; that you will not punish those who have done you so great a service, as though the thing would never have taken place had not the doers of it been assured of impunity. ' For myself, I beseech you to believe that I would not harbour such a thought for all the wealth of the world, nor would I entertain in my heart so ill a guest, or think so badly of any Prince that breathes. Far less could I so think of you, to whom I desire all imaginable good, and all blessings which you yourself could wish for. But for this very reason I exhort, I advise, I implore you deeply to consider- of the matter — at once, if it be the nearest friend you have, to lay your hands upon the man who has been guilty of the crime — to let no 24 History of England. Chapxiii interest, no persuasion, keep you from proving to every 1567 one that you are a noble Princess and a loyal wife. I arc do not write thus earnestly because I doubt you, but for the love which I bear towards you. You may have wiser councillors than I am — I can well believe it — but even our Lord, as I remember, had a Judas among the twelve : while I am sure tha,t you have no friend more true than I, and my affection may stand you in as good stead as the subtle wits of others.'1 Supposing the Queen of Scots to have been really free from the deepest shade of guilt, her warmest well- wisher could not have written more kindly or advised her more judiciously. To have followed the counsel so given, had the power been left her, would have been to defeat the hopes of all who desired her ruin, and to recover to herself that respect and honour which, whether guilty or innocent, she was equally forfeiting. Mary Stuart, however, for the present was incapable of receiving advice, nor did Elizabeth's words reach the exigencies of her position. The accounts which reached her from so many sides might indeed have revealed to her the storm which was gathering, and so have awakened her fears ; but of fear she was constitutionally incapable. The arrival of Elizabeth's messenger touched her only so far that it recalled her to the necessity of observinc- the forms of decency, and when, she heard that some one was coming, she hastened back to Holyrood just in time to receive him. Killegrew reached Edinburgh on the 8th of March, one day behind her. He was enter tained at dinner by the clique who had attended her to ' Seton, and in the afternoon was admitted to a brief audi- 1 Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots, Feb. 24 (the original is in French) — MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 25 ence. The windows were half closed, the rooms were Chapxiii . darkened, and in the profound gloom the English Am- ,56y bassador was unable to see the Queen's face, but by March her words she seemed 'very doleful.' She expressed herself warmly grateful for Elizabeth's kindness, but said little of the murder, and turned the conversation chiefly on politics. She spoke of Ireland, and undertook to prevent her subjects from giving trouble there ; she repeated her willingness to ratify the Treaty of Leith, and professed herself generally anxious to meet Elizabeth's wishes. With these general expressions she perhaps hoped that Killegrew would have been contented, but on one point his orders were positive. He represented to her the unanimity with which Bothwell had been fastened upon as one of the murderers of the King ; and before he took his leave he succeeded in extorting a promise from her that the Earl should be put upon his trial.1 His stay in Scotland was to be brief, and the Httle which he trusted himself to write was extremely guarded. The people he rapidly found were in no humour to entertain questions of Church policy. The mind of every one was riveted on the one all-absorbing subject. As to the perpetrators, he said there were ' great suspicions, but no proof,' and so far ' no one had been apprehended.' ' He saw no present appearance of trouble, but a gene ral misliking among the commons and some others which abhorred the detestable murder of their King, as a shame to the whole nation — the preachers praying openly that God would please both to reveal and re venge — exhorting all men to prayer and repentance.' 2 1 'The size for the Earl's trial is his trial.' — Drury to Cecil, March 29. the rather done by the Queen for the Border MSS., Rolls House. observing of her promise to Mr. Kille- 2 Sir H. Killegrew to Cecil, March grew, for she said and assured him 8. — MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. that the Earl should be put upon March 26 History of England. Chapxiii One other person of note he saw, and that was the I567 Earl of Murray — Murray, whose conduct in these mat ters has been painted in as black colours as his sister's was painted by Buchanan. Murray since the murder had remained quiet — doing nothing because he saw no thing which he could usefully do. He had made one effort to arrest Sir James Balfour, but he had been in stantly crossed by Bothwell,1 and he could stir no fur ther without calling on the commons to take arms — a desperate measure for which the times were not yet ripe. He was therefore proposing to withdraw as quietly as possible into France. He wrote by Killegrew's hands to Cecil for a safe-conduct to pass through England, and, careful only not to swell the accusations which were rising against the Queen, he entreated that neither Cecil nor any one ' should judge rashly in so horrible a crime.' 2 With this, and the letter from Maitland about the union of the Churches, Killegrew in less than a week returned to London. No sooner was his back turned than the Queen went again to Seton ; and now for the first time it began to be understood that, although Bothwell was to be tried for the King's murder, he was intended for the King's successor, and that at no distant time the Queen meant to marry him. He had a wife already indeed, as the reader knows — a Gordon, Lord Huntly's sister, whom he had but lately wedded ; but there were means of healing the wound in the Gordons' honour, by the restoration of their forfeited estates ; and Huntly it seems, though with some misgivings, was a consenting party in the shameful compact. 1 Sir John Foster to Cecil, March 2 Murray to Cecil, March 13.— 3.— Border MSS. MSS. Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 27 We are stepping into a region where the very atmo- Chapxiii sphere is saturated with falsehood, where those who out- ,567 wardly were bosom friends were plotting each other's March destruction, and those who were apparently as guilty as Bothwell himself were yet assuming an attitude to him, at one moment of cringing subserviency, at the next of the fiercest indignation; where conspiracy was spun within conspiracy, and the whole truth lies buried be yond the reach of complete discovery. Something, however, if not all, may be done towards unravelling the mystery. There is much reason to think that the intention of assassinating the unlucky Henry Darnley was known far beyond the circle of those who were immediately concerned in the execution of the deed. It had been foreseen from the first by those who understood his cha racter, and who knew how inconvenient people were disposed of in Scotland, that his hfe ' would be of no long continuance there.' His loose habits had early es tranged him from the Queen. The Douglases, and his other kinsmen who had joined him in the murder of Rizzio, he had converted into mortal enemies by his desertion of them afterwards. He was at once meddle some and incapable, weak and cowardly, yet insolent and unmanageable. He had aimed idly at the life of the Earl of Murray. He had intruded himself into politics, and had written vexatious letters to the Pope and to the King of Spain. As the heir of the House of Lennox, he was the natural enemy of the Hamiltons and all their powerful kindred ; and in one way or another he had given cause to almost every nobleman in Scot land, except his father, to feel his presence there unde sirable. His coming at all, though submitted to out of deference to the English Catholics, had revived sleeping 28 History of England. Chapxiii feuds, and had broken up the unity of the Council; l567 while at the same time it had estranged Elizabeth, and March alienated the Protestant Lords, who had before been as loud as the rest in claiming the English succession for their sovereign. The marriage, so far as Scotland was concerned, had been a mistake. Could he have been got rid of by a divorce his life might have been, spared; but a divorce would have tainted the Prince's legitimacy, and the Prince's birth had given treble strength to the Queen's party in England — strength sufficient, it might be hoped, to overcome, after the first shock, the dis pleasure which might be created among them by his father's removal. All these points had been talked over at Craigmillar, before the baptism of James at Stirling. A bond was signed there by Argyle, Bothwell, Huntly, Sir James Balfour, and perhaps by Maitland, the avowed object of which was Darnley's death. Morton, by his own con fession, was invited to join, and had only suspended his consent till assured under the Queen's hand of her ap proval. There were other writings also, it will be seen, which were afterwards destroyed, because more names were compromised by them. But it seems equally cer tain that the relations between the Queen and Bothwell were kept secret between themselves. Darnley was to be made away with, only to open a way to some noble alliance with France or Spain; certainly not that his place might be taken by a ruffian Border Earl, whose elevation would be the most fatal of obstacles on the Queen's road to the high place which Scotch ambition desired for her. Nor again were the other noblemen — unless perhaps Argyle be an exception — acquainted beforehand with the means by which the murder was actually effected. The Reign of Elizabeth. 29 Had the work been left to such a man as Maitland, Chapxiii the wretched creature would have been made away ,s6? with by poison — as was unsuccessfully tried at Stirling Marcl1 — or in some artificially created quarrel, or by some contrivance in which foul play, though it might be guessed at, could not have been proved. In that case it might have been hoped that Elizabeth, who had proclaimed Darnley traitor, had held his mother close prisoner in the Tower, had resented the marriage as an immediate attack upon her crown, would not look too curiously into a casualty so much to her advan tage; and Mary Stuart, free to choose another husband, might make fresh conditions for her place in the suc cession. But Bothwell had withdrawn the management into his own hands. Although Maitland was in corre spondence with the Queen when Darnley was brought up from Glasgow to Kirk o' Field, there is no reason to suppose that he was admitted further into Bothwell's plans; and the murder had been brought about with such ingenious awkwardness that it had startled all Europe into attention. Unable to move, for their sig natures compromised them, the Lords could but sit still and wait for what was to follow; but it is easy to un derstand the irritation with which they must have regarded the intruding blockhead who had marred the game, even though they could see no present means by which the fault could be rectified. It is easy to com prehend how intense must have been their disgust, as they began to find that, after all, they had been Both well's dupes — that he had been using them as the step ping-stones to his own lust and his own ambition. The populace of Edinburgh had come early to their own conclusions on the relations between the Queen and t30 History of England. Chapxiii the Earl. On her return to Seton after Killegrew' s de- ~~[^~ parture, although she had promised that he should March ke piace(j on his trial for the murder, she took no pains to conceal the favour with which she regarded him. There were moments when her danger struck her, and she had passing thoughts of flying to France : but she had reason to fear no very favourable reception there. The French Court had not even gone through the form of sending to condole with her on her widowhood. The office had been proposed to the Marquis de Rambouillet, but he had declined it, and no one had been chosen in his place.1 But Catherine de Medici and Charles had written to tell her that if she did not exert herself to discover and punish the assassin, she would cover herself with infamy, and that she could expect for the future no friendship or support from France.2 In that direction there was little to be looked for : so the Queen gathered up her nerves, resolving to trust her own re sources, and to defy the world and its opinion. As a preparation for the trial, she placed in Both- well's hands the castles of Edinburgh, Blackness, and Inchkeith. Dunbar he held already, and Dumbarton was to be given to him as soon as he could collect a sufficient force to hold it.3 Another placard, accusing him, was hung up on the Tolbooth door. The sup posed author, a brother of Murray of Tullibardine, was proclaimed traitor. The ports were watched for 1 Don Francis deAlava to Philip H. venged, and to clear herself, she March 15. — Tetjlet, vol. i. should not only think herself dis- 2 'The Queen Mother and the honoured, but to receive them for French King did also write very her contraries, and that they would sorely to the Queen, assuring her that be her enemies.' — Drury to Cecil, if she performed not her promise in March 29. Border MSS. seeking by all her power to have the 3 Ibid. death of the King their cousin re- The Reign of Elizabeth. 31 him, and any ' shipper ' who should carry him out of Chap xiii the kingdom was threatened with death.1 That Both- I56? well could be found guilty was certainly never con- Mai'ch templated as a possible contingency, for it was no longer a secret that the Queen meant to marry him as soon as he could be separated from his wife. The preliminaries of the divorce were being hurried forward, and Lady Bothwell, in fear of a worse fate for herself, had been induced to sue for it. A plea was found in Bothwell's own iniquities ; and that no feature might be wanting to complete the foulness of the picture, his paramour, Lady Buccleuch, was said to be ready, if necessary, to come forward with the necessary evidence.2 The moral feeling of the age was not sensitive. The Tudors, both in England and Scotland, had made the world familiar with scandalous separations; and there were few enormities for which precedents could not be furnished from the domestic annals of the northern kingdom. Yet there was something in the present pro ceeding so preposterous, that even those most callous in such matters were unable to regard it with indifference. The honour of the country, the one subject on which Scottish consciences were sensitive, was compromised by so monstrous an outrage upon decency. The Queen's political prospects would be ruined, without any one countervailing advantage whatever, if it was allowed to take place. There was no national party to gratify, no end to gain, no family alliance to support or 1 Royal Proclamation, March 1 2. — Buccleuch since she was married to Anderson. him.' — Drury to Cecil, March 29. 2 'For the divorce between Both- Border MSS. And again: 'It is well and his wife this is arranged, thought that the Lady of Buccleuch, that the same shall come of her — if need be, will affirm he hath so alleging this— that she knoweth he done.'— Same to Same, April 13. hath had the company of the Lady Ibid. 3'2 History of England. Chap xiii strengthen the Crown. Such a marriage under such I56"7 circumstances would simply be a disgrace. It would March be at once the consummation of an enormous crime, and a public defiant confession of it in the face of all men. The'murder itself might have been got over, and the private adultery, even if it had been discovered, might have been concealed. or condoned. But to follow up the assassination of her husband by an open marriage with the man whom all the world knew by this time to have been the murderer, was entirely intolerable. In such hands the baby-Prince would be no safer than his father, and one murder would soon be followed by another. When it became certain that so extraordinary a. step was seriously contemplated, Sir James Melville says,1 that ' every good subject who loved the Queen had sore hearts.' Lord Herries, the most accomplished of her friends, a man of the world, who saw what would fol- lowj was the first to hasten to her feet to remonstrate. The Queen received him with an affectation of surprise. She assured him that ' there was no such thing in her mind,' and he could but apologise for his intrusion and retire from the Court at his best speedj before Bothwell had heard what he had done. Melville himself tried next, and he received opportune assistance from a quarter to which of all others Mary Stuart could least afford to be indifferent; Thomas Bishop, her agent in England, of whom we shaU heat- again, and who was eventually hanged, being at this moment the expositor of the feelings of the leading English Catholics, wrote a letter to Melville, which he desired him to show to the Queen. 1 Memoirs of Sir James Melville. The Reign of Elizabeth. 33 'It was reported in England,' Bishop said, 'that Chapxiii her Majesty was to marry the Earl Bothwell, the mur- '~^~ derer of her husband, who at present had wife of his Marel1 own, and was a man full of all sin. He could scant believe that she would commit so gross an oversight, so prejudicial every way to her interest and to the noble mark he knew she shot at. If she married that man she would lose the favour of God, her own repu tation, and the hearts of all England, Ireland, and Scotland.' Thus armed, Sir James Melville, ever Mary Stuart's best adviser — and, even when she Went her own wilful way, the first to conceal her faults — entered his sove reign's presence and placed the letter in her hands. She read it, but she was in no condition to profit by it. She refused to believe that the letter had been written by Bishop. She said it was a device of Maitland's, ' tending to the wreck of the Earl Bothwell,' and she sent for Maitland and taxed him with it. He of course assured tar that he had nothing to do with it. His opinion she already knew, and he did not care to press it further. He told Melville that he had done more honestly than wisely, and that if Bothwell heard of it he would kill him. ' It was a sore matter,' said Melville, ' to see that good Princess run to utter wreck, and nobody to forewarn her of her danger.' He once more protested to her that/ the letter was genuine, and that, whoever wrote it, it contained only the deepest truth. ' He found she had no mind to enter upon the subject.'1 There was no thing more to be done. He did not then know the extent to which she had committed herself, and he and 1 Memoirs of Sir James Melville. ELIZ. III. D 34 History of England. Chap xiii her other friends could but stand by with folded hands ~6t~" and wait the result. March 'rhe Earl of Lennox, encouraged by the promises extorted by Killigrew, after a fortnight's silence ac cepted the Queen's challenge to name the persons whom he accused. He specified Bothwell, with two of his fol lowers ; Sir James Balfour and four foreigners, palace minions — Bastian, whose marriage had been the excuse for the retreat of the Queen from Kirk o' Field, John de Bourdeaux, Joseph Rizzio, the favourite's brother, and Francis, one of Mary Stuart's personal servants. She replied that the Lords would in a few days assemble in. Edinburgh. The persons named in his letter should then be arrested and abide their trial ; and Lennox him self, ' if his leisure or commodity might suit,' was in vited to be present.1 A trial of some sort could not be avoided. The question now was, in what form it would be best en countered. Argyle, Huntly, Maitland, the Archbishop of St. Andrews, and several others were in Both well's power. Unless they consented to stand by him, he held their signatures to the Craigmillar bonds, and could produce them to the world. Yet feeling, as he could not choose but feel, the ticklish ground on which he stood with them — feeling too, perhaps, that there was no permanent safety for him as long as he remained so hateful to the now formidable mass of the middle classes — he made an attempt to gain the Earl of Murray, the one trusted leader of the popular party. The Queen sent for her brother to Seton. Bothwell— if Lord Herries, who is the authority for the story, is to be believed — admitted his own guilt, but Mary Stuart to the Earl of Lennox, March 23. — Keith. The Reign of Elizabeth. 35 insisted ' that what he had done and committed was not Chap xiii for his private interest only, but with the consent of ,56? others — of Murray himself with the rest.' He therefore Mai'cl1 threw himself on Murray's honour, and invited him to subscribe a bond to stand by him in his defence. The Queen added her entreaties to Bothwell's, but she, as well as he, signally failed. Murray professed himself generally anxious to discharge his duties to his sove reign, but bond of any kind he refused to sign.1 The refusal may be laid to his credit, if the fair measure of a man's honesty is the standard of his time. As to his consent to the murder, he peremptorily denied that it had been ever spoken of in his presence. It is unlikely that he should have been entirely ignorant of a conspiracy to which the whole Court in some de gree were parties. His departure from Edinburgh on the morning of the murder suggests that he was aware that some dark deed was intended which he could not prevent. Yet it is to be observed that Bothwell himself, in his conversation with Paris before the deed was done, professed to expect nothing better from him than neutrality; and thus, had there been no inner intrigue, and had the assassination been merely po litical, he would have had no claim on Murray's help or forbearance. Yet, to decline to be the friend of the man who at the moment held the strength of Scotland in his hands, was no safe step for any man. Murray's life was in danger ;2 and seeing nothing that he could usefully do, and not caring to expose himself needlessly, he determined to carry out the resolution which he had already formed of leaving Scotland. Before he went he 1 Keith, vol. ii. p. 609, note. as willing he should be slain in 2 ' It was determined of late to Scotland as live abroad.' — Drury to slay the Earl of Murray. Some are Cecil, March 29. Border MSS. d 2 36 History of England. Chap xiii held a consultation with the Earl of Morton, and others ,567 who were in Morton's confidence; and, again, if Herrie3 ^pnl told the truth, something of this kind was determined upon. They saw no means of preventing the marriage without violence. The Queen was so infatuated that it was useless to appeal to her ; and they could not conceal from themselves that the Prince's life was in as great danger as the Queen's honour. They agreed that as soon as possible she should herself be laid under restraint, and Bothwell be seized and put to death. Bothwell, how ever, was too powerful to be openly attacked, nor would there be a chance of reaching him through a court of justice. The road to his overthrow lay through a seeming compliance with his wishes — through perjury, treachery, and such arts as men like Morton and Mait land had no objection to meddle with, but not such as suited the Earl of Murray. Lord Herries says that they arranged among themselves that ' Morton should manage all.' There would be wild work, in which it was not desirable that Murray should take a part. ' He would be the fitter afterwards to return and take the Government.' l Herries was not present at this con ference, and could only have heard what passed there at second hand. It is more probable that Morton laid before Murray the line of action which he proposed to follow, that Murray simply declined to have anything to do with it, and that he left Scotland in time to prevent calumny itself from fastening upon him any share in the events which followed. He went first to England, passing through Berwick on the ioth of April, and reaching London six days after. The truest account of his feelings, so far as his regard for the Queen of Scots 1 Keith, vol. ii. pp. 609-610, note. The Reign of Elizabeth. 37 allowed him to express them, will be found in the fol- Chapxiii lowing letter from the Spanish Ambassador to Philip : — JS&7 April DE SILVA TO PHILIP II.1 London, April 21. ' The Earl of Murray, brother of the Queen of Scot land, arrived here on the 16th of this month. The next morning he had a long interview with the Queen. I do not yet know what passed between them. He paid a visit to me the day before yesterday. He came to see me, he said, not only on account of the friendship between his Sovereign and your Majesty, but out of private regard for myself. He told me that he had his Queen's per mission to go to Italy, and see Milan and Venice. He was going through France, though he would have much preferred Flanders, had not the Low Countries been so much disturbed. He had told his mistress, he said, that he wished to travel and see the places which he had men tioned ; but in point of fact the Earl Bothwell was his enemy, and his life was not safe; the Earl Bothwell had four thousand men under his command, with the castles, among others, of Edinburgh and Dunbar, which contained all the guns and powder in .the realm ; and for himself, he did not mean to return till the Queen had done justice upon the King's murderers and their con federates. He could not honourably remain in the realm while a crime so strange and so horrible was allowed to pass unpunished. If any tolerable pains were taken, he said, the guilty parties could easily be discovered* There were from thirty to forty persons concerned in it, one way or another. He mentioned no names, but it was easy to see that he thought Bothwell was at the bottom of it. 1 MS. Simancas. 38 History of England. Chapxiii 'I asked him whether there was any truth in the 7^~~ report that Earl Bothwell was divorcing his wife. He APril said it was so ; and from his account of the matter one never heard of anything so monstrous. The wife, to whom he has not been married a year, is herself the petitioner, and the ground which she alleges is her hus band's adultery. I enquired whether he had ill-treated her, or if there had been any quarrel between them. He said, No. Her brother, Lord Huntly, had persuaded her into presenting the petition to please Bothwell; and the Queen, at Bothwell's instance, has restored to Huntly his forfeited lands. ' He told me that the general expectation was, that after the divorce the Queen meant to marry Bothwell ; but for himself he could not believe a person so nobly gifted as his sister could consent to so foul an alliance, especially after all that had passed. She was a Catholic, too, and a divorce on such a ground was but a cessation of cohabitation — a divorce a toro, as the lawyers called it, which did not enable either party to marry again so long as both were living. I asked if it would be per mitted by his religion. He said it would not ; but the French Ambassador is confident, for all this, that if the divorce can be obtained, the Queen means to marry him.' While the world outside was speculating in this way, preparations were going forward at last for Bothwell's trial. The 1 2th of April was fixed as the day on which he was to take his place at the bar. Notice was served on Lennox, requiring him to be present and to produce his evidence ; and the Order of Council by which these arrangements were made, was signed, absurdly enough, by Bothwell himself, in connection with Huntly and Argyle. The Crown might have been expected to be a The Reign of Elizabeth. 39 party to the prosecution ; but the Crown made itself os- Chap xiii tentatiously neutral, and it rather seemed as if, in the i567 eyes of the government, the real criminal was the accuser. AprU By the rule of the Court forty days should have been allowed to Lennox to collect his witnesses. The day chosen for the trial left him but fifteen ; and while his unhappy Countess in London was besieging the ear of the Spanish Ambassador with her denunciations of Mary Stuart,1 her husband was daily expecting that the pro ceedings would be brought to an abrupt end by his own murder. Meantime, at Setoh another document was prepared, to which the Queen and Bothwell set their hands. It was drawn by Lord Huntly— or at least it Was in his handwriting. It set forth that the Queen being a widow, and being unwilling to remain without a pro tector in so troubled a country, she had thought it desirable to take to herself a husband. There were various objections to a foreigner, and therefore for his many virtues she had made choice of James, Earl of Bothwell, whom she proposed to marry as soon as his separation from ' his pretended wife ' should be com pleted by form of law. To this engagement the Earl added a corresponding pledge, that being free, and able to make promise of marriage, in respect of the consent of his said pretended spouse to the divorce, he did promise on his part to take her Majesty to be his lawful wife.2 His brother-in- 1 'Aunque es cuerda esta apa- — De Silva to Philip, March 24. MS. sionada como madre, y en su opinion Simancas. la Reyna de Escocia no esta libre de 2 This is one of the famous casket la muerte de su uiarido. Esta tan documents, the authenticity of which lastimado de la muerte del hijo que will be discussed hereafter. It is ella misma conflesa que no tiene in- printed in Anderson's Collection. tento a otra cosa si no a la verganca.' 40 History of England. Chap xiii law and the Queen having thus committed themselves, he ,5&7 put the bond away in a casket, together with his remain- Apnl ing treasures of the same kind, in case they might be useful to him in the future — among the rest the fatal letter which the Queen had written to him from Glas gow, and which she had entreated him to burn. Thus fortified, Bothwell was prepared to encounter his trial. Tullibardine's brother, James Murray, the author of the Placards, was to have been Lennox's prin cipal witness. The Queen made his appearance impos sible, by ordering that he should be arrested on a charge of treason the first moment that he showed himself. Edinburgh swarmed with Bothwell's satellites ; Lennox himself durst not venture thither till he had raised force enough to protect his life; and the short time allowed made it equally impossible for him to assemble his friends or prepare his evidence. He therefore wrote once more to the Queen, to beg that a later day might be named, and that proper means might be taken to enable him to do justice to a cause in which she was herself the person principally concerned. He again requested that the ac cused parties might be arrested and kept in confinement ; above all, that they should not be allowed to remain in her Majesty's company. ' It was never heard of,' he justly said, ' but that in trial of so odious a fact, suspected per sons were always apprehended — of what degree soever they might be — even supposing they were not guilty of the fact till the matter was truly tried.' ' Suspected persons continuing still at liberty, being great in Court and about her Majesty's person, comforted and encou raged them and theirs, and discouraged all others that would give evidence against them; so that if her Ma jesty suffered the short day of law to go forward after The Reign of Elizabeth. 41 the manner appointed, he assured her Majesty she should Chapxiii have unjust trial.'1 6 To this application Mary Stuart replied that Lennox APril had himself objected to delay; she had named an early day in compliance with his own wishes, and she could not now make a change. Lennox had expected some such answer, and had made the best use of his time. He had come up to Stirling from Glasgow, and, though still inferior in force to Bothwell, had found men to go with him to Edinburgh, who would make a fight for it before he was murdered.2 But the Queen had a fresh objection immediately ready. The presence of so many armed men of different factions would be danger ous to the peace of the capital. She required him, there fore, to limit his train to six of his personal servants.3 It seemed as if she positively wished to convince the world that Bothwell's cause was her own. Bothwell was to stand his trial for the murder surrounded by an army of his and her retainers, By leaving the prosecu tion to Lennox, she treated the cause as if it were one in which pubhc justice was in no way concerned ; and she forbade him to use the most ordinary means of self-pro tection in the discharge of the duty which she had cast upon him. Her message could have but one effect. The trial would be opened, Lennox would not appear, and the charge would fall to the ground. Her clear intellect must have been subdued to the level of Bothwell's before she could have expected to blind the world by these poor devices. Yet she 1 The Earl of Lennox to the Cecil of April 15, says he had raised Queen of Scots, April 11.— Cotton 3,000 men. — Border MSS., Rolls MSS., Calig. B, IX. Printed in House. Keith. * Foster to Cecil, April 15. — Ibid. 2 Sir John Foster, in a letter to 42 History of England. chap xiii evidently fancied that it would pass for a sufficient dis- 7^67" charge of all that was required of her, and that the April trial once over, the matter would be heard of no further. As the day drew near, there was an ominous stillness in Edinburgh — a stillness made more awful by wild voices heard about the streets at night.1 Some of the wretches who were concerned in the murder had to be made safe, for fear they might reveal too much. One who wandered about in the darkness, proclaiming him self guilty, was caught and shut up in a prison, ' called from the loathsomeness of the place the four thieves ' pit.' 2 Another who was thought dangerous was knocked on the head and buried out of the way.3 Lennox, guessing how his own remonstrances would be received, had sent a message through Sir William Drury to Elizabeth, requesting her to back his petition for delay.4 Elizabeth, ' like an honourable Princess,' had instantly written to the Queen of Scots. The messenger rode for his life, and reached Berwick with the letter on the night of the 1 1 th of April. The trial was to be on the next day ; and Sir William Drury sent it on by one of his officers, with a charge to him to deliver it without delay into Mary 1 ' There is a man that nightly Drury to Cecil, April 10. Border goeth about Edinburgh, crying peni- MSS. tently and lamentably in certain 2 Drury to Cecil, April 19. — MS. streets of the town for vengeance on Ibid. those that caused him to shed inno- 3 ' A servant of Sir James Balfour, cent blood. " 0 Lord, open the who was at the murder, was secretly heavens, and pour down vengeance killed, and in ]ike manner buried,< on me and those that have destroyed supposed upon lively presumption of the innocent." The man walketh in utterance of some matter either upon the night accompanied with four or remorse of conscience or other folly five to guard him, and some "have which might tend to the whole dis- offered to take knowledge of him, covery.' — Ibid. but they have been defended by 4 Drury to Cecil, April 6. — Border those which are about him.' — MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 43 Stuart's hands. The officer, with his guide, was at Holy- Chap xiii rood a little after daybreak, and, though unsuccessful in T567" arresting Mary Stuart on her road to ruin, he has pre- Apnl served, as in a photograph, the singular scene of which he was the witness. His coming had been expected, and precautions had beeh taken to prevent him from gaining admittance. On alighting at the gate and telling the porter that he was the bearer of a despatch from the Queen of England, he was informed that the Queen of Scots was not yet awake and could not be disturbed. The door was closed in his face, and he wandered about the meadows till between 9 and 10, when he again presented himself. By this time all the Palace was astir; groups of Bothwell's re tainers were lounging about the lodge; it was known among them that some one was come from England ' to stay the assize,' and when the officer attempted to pass in, he was thrust back with violence. At the noise of the struggle, one of the Hepburns came up and told him that the Earl, understanding that he had letters for the Queen, advised him to go away and return in the evening; 'the Queen was so molested and disquieted with the business of that day, that he saw no like lihood of any time to serve his turn till after the As size.' He argued with the man, but to no sort of purpose. The gate was thrown back, and the quad rangle and the open space below the windows were fast filling with a crowd, through which there was no pas sage. Troopers were girthing up their saddles and belting on their sabres; the French guard were trim ming their harquebusses, and the stable-boys leading up and down the horses of the knights. The Laird of Skirling, Captain of the Castle under Bothwell, strode by and told the guide that he deserved to be hanged for 44 History of England. Chap xhi bringing English villains there ; and presently the Earl i567 appeared, walking with Maitland. The officer was April 12 chafing under ' the reproaches ' of the ' beggarly ' Scots, who were thronging round him and cursing him. They fell back as Bothwell approached, and he presented his letter. The Earl perhaps felt that too absolute a defiance might be unwise. He took it, and went back into the Palace, but presently returned and said, ' that the Queen was still sleeping ; it would be given to her when the work of the morning was over.' A groom at this moment led round his horse — Darnley's horse it had been, and once perhaps, like Roan Barbary, ' ate bread from Richard's royal hand ! ' The Earl sprang upon his back, turned round, and glanced at the windows of the Queen's room. A servant of the French Ambas sador touched the Englishman, and he too looked in the same direction, and saw the Queen ' that was asleep and could not be disturbed,' nodding a farewell to her hero as he rode insolently off,1 So went the murderer of Mary Stuart's husband to his trial, followed by his Sovereign's smiles and attended by the Royal guard; and we are called upon to believe that the Queen, the arch-plotter of Europe, the match in intellect for the shrewdest of European statesmen, was the one person in Scotland who had no suspicion of his guilt, and was the victim of her own guileless inno cence. Victim, she was, fooled by the thick-limbed scoundrel whom she had chosen for her paramour, duped by her own passions, which had dragged her down to the level of a brute. But the men were never born who could have so deceived Mary Stuart, and it was she her self who had sacrificed her own noble nature on the foul altar of sensuality and lust. 1 Drury to Cecil, April —.—Border the 9th volume of Mr. Tytler's MSS. Printed in the Appendix to Histonj of Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 45 As the Earl passed through the outer gate, a long Chapxiii loud cheer rose from the armed multitude. Four thou- "",j67 sand ruffians lined the Canongate, and two hundred Apnl IZ Hackbutters formed his bodyguard as he rode between the ranks. The high court of justice — so called in courteous irony — was held at the Tolbooth, where he alighted and went in. His own retainers took possession of the doors, ' that none might enter but such as were more for the behoof of one side than the other." There were still some difficulties to be overcome, and the anxiety to prevent a prosecutor from appearing was not without reason. The court could not be altogether packed, and there might be danger both from judges and from jury.2 The Earl of Argyle presided as hereditary Lord Justice, and so far there would be no difficulty ; but there were four assessors, one or more of whom might prove un manageable if the case went forward — Lord Lindsay, Henry Balnavis, the Commendator of Dumfermline, and James McGill, the Clerk of the Register. On the jury were the Lord of Arbroath, Chatelherault's second son and presumptive heir of the House of Hamilton, and the Earl of Cassilis (the original of Walter Scott's ' Front de Boeuf '). These would be true to Bothwell through good and evil. But the Earl of Caithness, the Chan ce ' cellor of the Assize, was doubtful ; Lord Maxwell had been Darnley's special friend, and Herries was truer to his mistress than to the dark man whom he feared as her evil genius.3 1 Drury to Cecil, April — .—Border the Lord of Arbroath, Lords Ross, MSS. Printed in the Appendix to Sempell, Maxwell, Herries, Oliphant, the 9th volume of Mr. Tytler's and Boyd,, the Master of Forbes, History of Scotland. Gordon of Lochinvar, Cockburn of 2 Ibid. Lanton, Somerville of Cambusne- s The jury consisted of the Earls tham, a Mowbray, and an Ogilvy. of Caithness, Rothes, and Cassilis, Morton had been summoned, but 46 History of England. Chap xiii ' At eleven o'clock the Earl took his place at the bar. 6 No trustworthy account has been preserved of the ap- Aprfi 12 pearance of the man. In age he was not much past thirty. If the bones really formed part of him which have been recently discovered in his supposed toinb in Denmark, he was of middle height, broad, thick, and, we may fancy, bull-necked. His gestures were usually defiant, and a man who had lived so wild a life could not have been wanting in personal courage ; but it was the courage of an animal which rises with the heat of the blood, not the collected coolness of a man who was really brave. He stood at the bar 'looking down and sadlike.' In the presence of the machinery of justice his inso lence failed him ; the brute nature was cowed, and the vulgar expression 'hangdog' best described his bear ing. One of his. attendants, Black Ormiston, who had been with him at Kirk o' Field, ' plucked him by the sleeve.' ' Fye, my Lord,' he whispered, 'what Devil is this ye are doing? Your face shaws what ye are. Hauld up your face, for God's sake, and look blythly. Ye might luik swa an ye were ganga'nd to the dead. Alac and wae worth them that ever devysit it. I trow it shall gar us all murne.' 'Haud your tongue,' the Earl answered; 'I would . not yet it were to do. I have an outgait fra it, come as it may, and that ye will know belyve.'1 The Clerk of the Court now began to speak. 'Whereas Matthew, Earl of Lennox,' he said, 'had delated the Earl Bothwell of the murder of the had refused. He would have been the forfeit.'— Drury to Cecil, April glad to please the Queen, he said, — . Border MSS. but 'for that the Lord Darnley was * Confession of the Laird of Or- his kinsman he would rather pay miston.— PitcaIrn, vol. i. p. 512 The Reign of Elizabeth. 47 late King, her Majesty, by advices of Council and at Chapxiii the instance of the Earl Bothwell himself, had ordained i;67 a Court of Justiciaries to be held in the Tolbooth of April !1 Edinburgh for doing justice upon the said Earl, and the Earl of Lennox: was required to appear and prove his charge.' The indictment followed. It had been drawn with a grotesque contrivance to save the consciences of such among the jury as were afraid of verbal per jury, for it charged the Earl with having com mitted the murder on February 9th; and whatever was the way in which Darnley was killed, the deed was certainly not done till an hour or two after midnight. Of this plea it will be seen that the Lords on the panel were not ashamed to avail themselves when afterwards called to account for their conduct. Bothwell of course pleaded not guilty. Lennox was called, and did not answer; and the case would have collapsed, as every one present probably desired, when a person appeared whose part had not been ar ranged in the programme. Lennox was absent, but one of his servants, Robert Cunningham, ventured into the arena instead of him, and, rising among the crowd, said: ' My Lords, I am come here, sent by my master the Earl of Lennox, to declare the cause of his absence this day. The cause of his absence is the shortness of the time, and that he is denuded of his friends and servants who should have accompanied him to his honour and surety of his life ; and he having assistance of no friends but himself, has commanded me to desire a sufficient day, according to the weight of the cause wherethrough he may keep the same. And if your Lordships will proceed at this present, I protest that 48 History of England. Chapxiii if the persons who pass upon assize and inquest of ~^7 twelve persons that shall enter on panel this day do April 12 clear _e a(.cuged person of the murder of the King, that it shall be wilful error and not ignorant, by reason that person is notorely known to be the murderer of the King; and upon this protestation I require ane document.' The protest was in proper form. The precipitation of the trial had been contrary to precedent; and Cunningham's demand, in the regular course of things, should have been supported by the Queen's advocates who were present in the Court. They sate silent, however.1 Bothwell's counsel produced Lennox's ori ginal letter, in which he had urged the Queen to lose no time in pressing the enquiry. The Queen had but done what the prosecutor desired, and he had now therefore no right to ask for more delay. There was no prosecution, no case, no witnesses. The indict ment was unsupported. They required the Court to accept the Earl's plea, and to pronounce him ac quitted. Cunningham said no more and the jury withdrew. Composed as they were of some of the best blood in Scotland, they did not like the business. There was ' long reasoning,' and the evening was closing in before they reappeared. Caithness, before the verdict was given in, read a declaration in all their names that, whereas no person had come forward to support the charge, 'they could but, deliver according to their knowledge,' and therefore could not be accused of 'wilful 1 ' The Queen's advocates that silence. The like at an assize hath should have inveighed against Both- not been used.' — Drury to Cecil well are much condemned for their April — . ' Border MSS. Tlie Reign of Elizabeth. 49 error.' For himself, as if disdaining to avail himself Chapxiii of the subterfuge prepared for him, he put in his per- ~ise7 sonal protest ' that the Dittay was not true in respect AprU I2 that the murder was committed on February ioth, and not on the 9th,' and ' so the acquittal that way but cavillously defended.' With these qualifications, as it were washing their hands of the transaction to which they were made parties, Caithness and half the jury returned a verdict of Not Guilty. ' The rest neither quitted him nor cleared him, but were silent.' x So at seven o'clock in the evening the business was happily terminated. The Queen had kept her promise to England and France ; and the Earl, gathering up his courage again, ' fixed a cartel against the Tolbooth door' as he left it — 'wherein he offered to fight in single combat with any gentleman undefamed that durst charge him with the murder.' The Court would have acted more wisely had they left the insolent farce unplayed. The indignation of the Edinburgh burghers appeared in ' the libels ' which covered the walls. ' The Lords ' were charged ' with wilful manceuvering to cover knavery.' ' Farewell, gentle Harry,' was written at one place, 'but ven geance on Mary.' At another, a rude caricature repre sented Bothwell as a frightened hare surrounded by a ring of swords ; Mary Stuart as a mermaid crowned, flashing fury out of her eyes, and lashing off the hounds that were pursuing her lover with a huntsman's double thong. Murray of Tullibardine in his brother's place replied 1 Drury to Cecil, April 15. — Border derson, and the Scotch and Border MSS. For Bothwell's trial see the MSS. for April, 1567, in the Rolls printed account in Keith and An"- House. ELIZ. III. E 50 History of England. Chapxiii to the challenge by offering to prove Bothwell's guilt "7^7 upon his body, with the sovereigns of France and April. 1 2 England for judges of the combat.1 Sir William Drury himself, boiling over with scorn and anger, waited only for Elizabeth's permission to an ticipate Murray and fight Bothwell himself ; 2 and when the Queen of Scots ventured from Holyrood through the city, the women in the Grassmarket rose at their stalls as she passed, and screamed after her, ' God save your Grace, if ye be sackless of the King's death — of the King's death ! ' 3 One more unsigned but ominous ' bill ' was set up upon the Market Cross. ' I am assured there is none that professes Christ and his Evangel that can with any upright conscience part the Earl Bothwell and his wife, albeit she justly prove him an abominable adul terer ; and that by reason he has murdered the husband of her he intends to marry, whose obligation and pro mise of marriage he had long before the murder was done.' 4 Every hour it was evident that the relations be tween the Queen and Bothwell were becoming known. Too many persons had been admitted to the secret. 1 Underneath Murray's cartel were these lines : — It is not enough the puir King is dead, But michand murtheraris occupied his stead, And douhell addulterie has all this land schamit, But all ye sillie Lordis man be defamit, And wilfully ye man gar yourselves manswarin. God put some end unto this sorrowful time, And have ye saikless, nor troublit of this crime. Scotch MSS. April 13, Rolls House. 2 'If I thought it might stand with it upon his body as willingly as the Queen my sovereign's favour, I obtain any suit I have.' Drury to would answer it, and commit the Cecil, April— , 1567. Border MSS. sequel to God. I have sufficient to 3 Ibid. charge him with, and would prove * Scotch MSS., April, 1567. The Reign of Elizabeth. 51 The truth was oozing out piece by piece from a hundred Chap xiii whispering tongues, and all the air was full of it. I567 But the goal was near in view, and they had gone Apnl too far to halt or hesitate. Two days after the trial, a Parliament, or such packed assembly as the Queen called by the name, met at Edinburgh. Lennox escaped to England. The Earls of Mar and Glencairn applied for license 'to depart the realm for a season.' The Archbishop of St. Andrews and four other Prelates, six Earls, of whom Bothwell and Argyle were two, six other noblemen, and a few commoners, represented the Legislature of Scotland. To bribe the Protestants, an Act of Religion was passed, and the Queen for the first time formally recognised the Reformation. The price of the divorce was paid to Huntly, and the Gordon estates were restored, while in return ' the purgation of Bothwell was confirmed, and the assize allowed for good.'1 To silence mutinous tongues, it was enacted that, ' whereas various Writings had been set up to the slander, infamy, and reproach of the Queen's Highness and divers of the nobility, the Queen and Estates or dained that in time coming, when any such placard or defamation was found, the person first seeing the same should take it or destroy it, that no further knowledge nor copy should pass of the same ; if such person failed therein, and either the writing was copied or proceeded to further knowledge among the people, the first seer and finder should be punished in the same manner as the first inventor and upsetter, if he was apprehended ; the defamers of the Queen should be punished with death, and all others with imprisonment at the Queen's pleasure.'2 1 Drury to Cecil, April 1 9. — Border 2 Proceedings of Parliament, April MSS. T567- Printed in Keith. e 2 52 History of England, Chapxiii Five days were sufficient for these measures. The "7^~" Parliament was dissolyed on the 19th, and the same April evening, to celebrate the occasion, the Earl of Bothwell invited the Peers and Bishops to sup with him at a place called Ainslie's Tavern. The Primate and five other Prelates, among whom was Leslie^ the afterwards cele brated Bishop of Ross, the Earls of Argyle, Huntly, Sutherland, Cassilis, Eglinton, and some others, were present. The wine went round freely, and at length Bothwell rose and produced a bond, which he offered to ; their signature, as he pretended, by the Queen's desire. The first clauses related personally to himself. ' The undersigned ' were required to say that, inas much as the accusation against the Earl of Bothwell had been disposed of in open court, and as all noblemen in honour and credit with their sovereign were subject . to suspicion and calumnies, they were determined to resist such slanders, and if the Earl was again accused, they would stand by him and take part with him. So far there was little difficulty ; most of the guests were more or less interested in suppressing future en quiry into the business of the Kirk o' Field. The re maining paragraphs were of graver import. The 'bond' continued thus : — ' Considering further the time present, and how the Queen's Majesty, their sovereign, was now destitute of a husband, in which solitary state the commonwealth of their country would not permit her to continue, should her Majesty be moved by respect of his faithful ser. vices to take the Earl Bothwell to her husband, they and every one of them, upon their honour, truth, and fide lity, promised to advance and set forward the marriage with their counsel, satisfaction, and assistance, as soon as the law would allow it to be done, and to esteem any The Reign of Elizabeth. 53 one as their common enemy and evil wilier who en- Chapxiii deavoured to hinder it.' ,567 To this precious document from twelve to twenty Apnl noblemen,1 besides the Bishops, were induced to set their hands : some, like the Primate, in deliberate treachery, to tempt the Queen into ruin ; some, it was afterwards pretended, in fear of Bothwell's ' hack- butters,' who surrounded the house ; some, perhaps the most, from moral weakness and want of presence of mind. Eglihton 'slipped away,' and saved his honour - thus. Morton and Maitland either did the same, or they had sufficient fortitude to withhold their signa tures. They said generally that they would not oppose the marriage ; but they declined to commit themselves to the bond.2 Such was the celebrated Ainslie's supper, of all bad transactions, in that bad time, in common esteem the most disgraceful, yet a fit sequel to what had preceded it, ahd on the whole less mischievous than the trial at the Tolbooth. At the supper the noble Lords and other high persons did but compromise theh' own characters, in which there was httle left to injure. In the High Court of Justice the fountains of society were poisoned. 1 The original bond was destroyed. again it is obviously inaccurate, since It survives only in copies, the signa- this also contains the name of Morton. tures were supplied by recollection, See the lists in Keith, vol. ii. p. 566. and the different lists do not agree. Lawson's edition, and 'A Copy of the The Scotch list, usually printed as Bond signed by the Lords, April 1 9, authentic, contains Murray's name, 1567.' — MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. though Murray was in England ; 2 ' The Lords have subscribed a Glencairn's, though there is no evi- bond to be Bothwell's friends in all dence that he was in Edinburgh at the actions, saving Morton and Leding- time; andMorton's,who can be proved ton, who, though they yielded to the distinctly not to have signed. A list marriage, yet in the end refused to found among the French State Papers be his in so general terms.'— Drury bespeaks credibility by the omission to Cecil, April 27. Border MSS. of Murray and Glencairn, though 54 History of England. Chapxiii By neither one nor the other did Bothwell gain much. 7^7 All hated him, even those who seemed his friends; and April he himself had little confidence in the promises which he had taken such pains to obtain. Meanwhile the people— those to whom Knox had contrived to bring some knowledge of right and wrong, those who could feel the natural indignation of honest men against atrocious wickedness — began at this last outrage to rouse themselves to action. Glencairn and Mar, though they had thought of leaving the country, were still at their posts, and Mar for the present was keeping watch over the infant Prince at Stirling. If only Elizabeth would support them, they might yet make an effort to save their Queen from completing her dishonour. They could none of them trust Elizabeth. She had forfeited their confidence once for all in her shuffling desertion of Murray. Whatever she might privately feel or desire, they could not feel certain that, even in their present circumstances, she would maintain them openly in re sistance to their sovereign. Yet it was impossible to sit still; and Sir William Kirkaldy, of Grange, was selected in Murray's absence to feel the temper of the English Government. The day after Ainshe's supper, Grange wrote thus to Ceeil ; — 'It may please your Lordship to let me understand what will be your sovereign's part concerning the late murder committed among us; for albeit her Majesty was slow in all our last trouble, and therefore lost that favour we did bear unto her, yet nevertheless if her Majesty will pursue for the revenge of the late murder, I dare assure your Lordship she shall win thereby all the hearts of all the best in Scotland again. Further, if we understood that her Majesty would assist us and favour us, we should not be long in revenging of this murder. The Queen caused ratify in Parliament the The Reign of Elizabeth. 55 cleansing of Bothwell. She intends to take the Prince Chapxiii out of the Earl of Mar's hands, and put him into Both- I567 well's keeping, who murdered the King his father. ApnI The same night the Parliament was dissolved, Bothwell called the most part of the noblemen to supper, for to desire of them their promise in writing and consent for the Queen's marriage, which he will obtain ; for she has said that she cares not to lose France, England, and her own country for him, and ehall go with him to the world's end in a white petticoat ere she leave him. Yea, she is so far past all shame, that she has caused make an Act of Parliament against all those that shall set up any writing that shall speak anything of him. Whatever is unhonest reigns presently in this court. God deliver them from their evil.' x Elizabeth was incredulous as ever, as to any actual complicity of the Queen of Scots in the murder itself. Yet the treatment of her officer, the trial, and the general news which came in day after day from Scot land, had already compelled her to see how deeply Mary Stuart was compromising herself. She spoke to the Spanish Ambassador, with genuine distress, of the contemptuous evasion of her desire that the trial might be postponed. The Spanish Ambassador, in his account to Philip, seemed equally scandalized. ' The Earl,' he said, 'had been acquitted by the Queen of Scots' own order. Lennox was not allowed to be present ; the Court was surrounded by armed men in the Earl's pay ; and though a majority of the judges, under the Queen's in fluence, had acquitted Bothwell, because no prosecutor appeared, many of them had refused to vote.' 2 1 Grange to Cecil, April 20.— contra el Conde, y assi file" dado por MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. libre por la . mayor parte de los 2 'No parecio acusador ni testigo jueces; porque la Reyna mandd 56 History of England. ChapXIU On the arrival of Grange's letter, Ehzabeth deter-> 1567 mined to make- one more effort, and force the Queen of AprU Scots to see the construction which Europe was placing upon her conduct. A paper of notes, in Cecil's hand, dated the 25th of April, contains the substance ofhis thoughts about it. ' The enquiry into the murder could not and should not be stifled. The Queen of Scots should be made to understand what manner of bruits and ru mours were spread through all countries about her, gathered as they were by indifferent men upon behold ing the proceedings in Scotland since the King's death. If it was true that she thought of marrying Bothwell, so monstrous an outrage must be prevented.' Lord Grey, as a person unconnected with Scotch practices, was chosen to go down to Holyrood and reason with her. He was instructed to tell the Queen of Scots that Elizabeth was simply shocked at the reports which were brought to her. ' No discovery had been made of the malefactors.' ' Such as were most touched with the crime were most favoured, retained in credit, and bene fited with gifts and rewards. The father, and others of the King's friends, that should orderly seek the revenge, were forced by fear to retire from the Court, and some of them deprived of their offices.' ' Her Ma jesty was greatly perplexed what to do in a case of such moment,' whether to believe nothing of what she heard, ' or, giving credit but in some part, to enter into doubt fulness of the Queen's integrity, which of all other things she most misliked to conceive.' ' The Queen of que declarasen: y los demas no como se le habia ordenado, por quisieron votar en ello, pareciendoles manera que no vino quien acusase que no habia libertad en el juicio, ni hablase en ello, segun me certifi- porque el Conde Bothwell tenia con- can.' — De Silva to Philip, April 21. ' sigo mucha gente, y el de Lennox no MS. Simaneas, podia venir sino con seis a caballo The Reign of Elizabeth. 57 Scots was her sister and kinswoman. The young gen- Chafxiii tleman that was foully murdered was born a subject of i567 her realm, and in like degree her kinsman.' The world Apnl pointed with one consent at Bothwell as the assassin. ' His malice to the King was notoriously deadly. The King in his life feared his death by Bothwell, and sought to have escaped out of the realm.' Yet the castles of Edinburgh and Leith had been since given in charge to this man, 'and generally all credit and reputation conveyed only to him and his that were most commonly charged with the King's death.' 'Contempt, or at least neglect, had been used in the burial of the King's body. His father, his kin, and his friends, were forced to pre serve themselves by absence;' and while Lennox was forbidden to appear at the trial with more than six of his servants, 'the person accused was attended with great companies of soldiers.' x As in her first letter, when first she heard of the murder, as in the despatch of Killegrew, as in her inef fectual effort to prevent Mary Stuart from committing herself to the mockery of justice, so again in this in tended message, Elizabeth was fulfilling those duties of kind and wise friendship, which Mary Stuart's advocates complained afterwards that she had been deprived of; but before Grey could start on his mission, fresh news arrived, which made this and every other effort in the Queen of Scots' interests unavailing. Notwithstanding Ainslie's supper, neither the Earl nor the Queen could feel assured that their marriage arrangements would progress satisfactorily. They could not conceal from themselves that it was regarded by every 1 Instructions to Lord Grey sent in 1567. In Cecil's hand. — MSS. Scot- post to the Queen of Scots, April — , land, Rolls House. 58 History of England. Chapxiii one with intense repugnance. Bothwell, as events after- ~^~ wards proved, possessed not a single friend among the APril Lords, and not to be his friend at such a time was to be his deadly enemy. Morton and Maitland affected to be not ill-disposed towards him ; but their negative attitude was more than suspicious, and the delay even of the few weeks which would" elapse before the Divorce Court could release Bothwell from his wife might give an opportunity for commotion at home, or for some inter ference from Elizabeth, which might equally be fatal to their wishes. Nor was the Earl's position with the band of desperadoes that he had collected about him any more reassuring. He had no money to pay them with. Two days after the separation of the Parhament they muti nied in the hall at Holyrood. Bothwell attempted to seize one of the ringleaders, but his comrades instantly interfered; and the Earl, after a savage altercation,; could only quiet them by promises, which he could not hope to redeem, except by some speedy measure which would give him the immediate control of the kingdom. On the 22nd of April, the day which followed this commotion, Mary Stuart went to Stirling, professedly to visit her child. The general suspicion was that she intended, if possible, to get the Prince into her own hands, and either carry him back with her to Edinburgh, or place both the child, and Stirling Castle in Bothwell's keeping. If this was her design, it was defeated by the prudence of the Eari of Mar, who in admitting the Queen within the gates, allowed but two ladies to ac company her. But there was a second purpose in the expedition, which the following letters will explain : x — 1 These letters were found in the preceding volume. I accept them as celebrated casket with the others to genuine because, as will be seen, they which reference was made in the were submitted to the scrutiny of The Reign of Elizabeth. 59 THE QUEEN OE SCOTS TO THE EARL BOTHWELL. Chap XIII ' Of the time and place I remit me to your brother x _56_ and to you. I will follow him, and will fail in nothing in my part. He finds many difficulties. I think he does advertise you thereof, and what he desires for the handling of himself. As for the handling of myself, I heard it once well devised. Methinks that your services and the long amity, having the goodwill of the Lords, do well deserve a pardon, if above the duty of a subject you advance yourself, not to constrain me, but to assure yourself of such place near unto me, that other admo nitions or foreign persuasions may not let me from con senting to that that you hope your service shall make you one day to attain ; and to be short, to make yourself sure of the Lords and free to marry ; and that you are constrained for your surety, and to be able to serve me faithfully, to use an humble request joined to an impor tune action; and to be short, excuse yourself and per suade them the most you can that you are constrained to make pursuit against your enemies. You shall say enough if the matter or ground do like you, and many fair words to Ledington.2 If you like not the deed, almost the entire English peerage, to the Queen by a Catholic infor- and especially to those among the mant of the Spanish Ambassador, peers who were most interested in who hurried from the spot to Lon- discovering them to be forged, and don immediately after the final ca- by them admitted to be indisputably tastrophe for which theyprepared the in the handwriting of the Queen of way ; and lastly, because there is no Scots; because the letters in the ground whatever to doubt the genu- text especially refer to conversations' ineness of the entire set of the casket with Lord Huntly, who was then letters, except such as arises from the and always one of MaryStuarfs truest hardy and long-continuedbut entirely adherents— conversations which he baseless denial of interested or senti- could have denied had they been mental partisans. false, and which he never did deny ; ' Bothwell's brother-in-law, the because their contents were confir- Earl of Huntly. med in every particular unfavourable 2 Maitland. 60 History of England, Chapxiii send me word, and leave not the blame of all unto 7577~ me.' Apni 23 Amidst obscurity in some of the allusions, the drift of this letter is generally plain, when interpreted by what actually occurred. Lest interference in Scotland, or the admonition or persuasion of England or France, should dash the cup from their lips, the lovers had laid a plan, to which the Earl of Huntly was a consenting party, that Bothwell should carry off the Queen by seeming force. She was to return to Edinburgh on the 24th; she could be intercepted on the way, and the ' violence which had been offered to her would then make the marriage a necessity ; while Bothwell could plead his own danger, and the general difficulties of his position, as an excuse for his precipitancy. It was a wild scheme — not so wild perhaps in Scot land as it would have seemed in any other country, but still full of difficulty. Lord Huntly on mature consi deration was against attempting it; the Queen" could not travel without a strong escort, and the escort, though it might be Under Huntly's own command, would resist unless taken into the secret. A few hours after the last letter the Queen wrote again ; — ' My Lord, since my letter written, your brother-in- law that was came to me very sad, and has asked my counsel what he should do after to-morrow, because there are many here, and among them the Earl of Sutherland, who would rather die than suffer me to be carried away, they conducting me— and that he feared there should some trouble happen of it— that it should be said of the other side he was unthankful to have betrayed me. ' I told him he should have resolved with you upon all that, and that he should avoid if he could those The Reign of Elizabeth. 61 that were most mistrusted.1 He has resolved to write Chapxiii thereof to you by my opinion ; for he has abashed me ~7^"7- to see him so unresolved at the need. I assure myself APril 2* he will play the part of an honest man; but I have thought good to advertise you of the fear he has that he should be charged and accused of treason, to the end that without mistrusting him you may be the more circumspect, and that you may have the more power. We had yesterday2 more than 300 horse of his and Livingstone's. For the honour of God be accompanied rather of more than less, for that is the principal of my care.' Again, and still more deeply, it seems that Huntly's mind misgave him. In a third note, the Queen said that he had returned a second time and ' preached unto her that it was a foolish enterprise, and that with her honour she could never marry Bothwell, seeing that he was married already; his own people would not allow her to be carried off, and the Lords would unsay their promises.' ' I told him,' she said, ' that seeing I was come so far, if you did not withdraw yourself of yourself, no persuasion nor death itself should make me fail of my promise. — I would I were dead, for I see all goes ill. Dispatch the answer that I fail not, and put no trust in your brother for this enterprise, for he has told it.' 3 This last note must have been written from Stir ling at midnight, between the 23rd and 24th of April. * i. e. in selecting the men who ' Bothwell was secretly at Linlith- were to form her guard, he should gow the night before he took the choose those on whom he could rely Queen. In the morning he broke not to resist. with Huntly of his determination 2 On the way to Stirling, April 22. for the having the Queen, which in s This is confirmed by Sir Wil- no respect he would yield unto.' — liam Drury, who writes to Cecil : — Border MSS. Rolls House. 62 History of England. 1567 April 24 Chapxiii Bothwell was lying in wait at Linlithgow, and not daring to trust Huntly further, the Queen sent it to him by the trusted hands of Paris the page.1 The Earl, when Paris found him, was lying asleep, 'his captains all about him.' He rose, wrote a hasty answer, and as he gave it into the page's hands said, ' Recommend me humbly to her Majesty, and say I will meet her on the road to-day at the bridge.' 2 The scheme had got wind. The Queen's own move ments, the considerable preparations which had been made by Bothwell at Dunbar, and the large number of armed men which he had collected at Linlithgow, had quickened the akeady roused suspicions of the people.3 Huntly 1 ' Je vous envoye ce portier car je n'ose me tier a, vostre frere de ces lettres ni de la diligence.' The ori ginal French of this letter, and of one other, has at last been recovered. The solitary critical objection to the genuineness of the letters has been rested on the obvious fact, that al though Mary Stuart corresponded with Bothwell in French, the French version which was published by Buchanan contained Scotch idioms and must have been translated from Scotch. It was naturally con jectured in reply that the originals were out of Buchanan's reach, and that his French and Latin versions of the letters were retranslations from the Scotch translation, which was made when they were first dis covered. It is now certam that this was the truth. On the examination of the original letters at Westmin ster, two were produced before the others, and of these two, copies were taken at the time, one of which, that which I have quoted in the text, is at Hatfield among Cecil's notes of the examination. The other, that commencing 'Monsieur, s'y l'ennuy de vostre absence,' is in the Record Office MSS. ,Makt Queen of Scots, vol. ii. No. 66. This part of the question may thus be said to be set at rest. The Hatfield letter is en dorsed 'From Stirling upon the ravishment.' 2 ' Recommendes me humblement a, la Majestie, et luy dictes que j'yray aujourdhuy la trouver sur la chemyn au pont.' — Confession of Nicholas Hubert called Paris. PlTCAnaf, vol. i. p. 510. 3 On the morning of the 24th Sir William Drury wrote from Ber wick : — ' This day the Queen returns to Edinburgh or Dunbar. The Earl Bothwell hath gathered many of his friends, some say to ride in Liddis- dale ; but there is feared some other purpose which he intendeth much different from that, of the which I believe shortly I shall be able to advertise more certainly.' — Drury to Cecil, April 24. Border MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 63 had betrayed the secret, dreading the indignation of Chapxiii the noblemen who were still hoping to save the Queen ; I567 and so well it was known, that Lennox, writing from Apnl *4 some hiding-place where he was waiting for a ship to take him to England, was able to inform his wife particularly of what was about to happen.1 The Queen, however, was too infatuated to care for the consequences: on the morning of the 24th she took leave of the Prince; not finding herself able to carry him with her as she had meant to do, she commended him rather needlessly to the care of the Earl, whose chief business was to protect him from his mother;2 she then mounted her horse, and attended by Huntly, Maitland, James Melville, and her ordinary guard, she prepared for the concluding passage of Bothwell's melodrama. The first act of it had been the King's murder, the- second the trial at the Tolbooth ; the scene of the third was Almond Bridge, two miles from Edinburgh on the road to Linlithgow. There, as he had promised, the adventurous Earl lay waiting for 1 ' The Queen returns this dayfrom ' At the Queen's last being at Stir- Stirling. The Earl of Bothwell hath ling, the Prince being brought unto gathered many of his friends. He her, she offered to kiss him, but the is minded to meet her this day, and Prince would not, but put her face take her by the way and bring her away with his hand, and did to his to Dunbar. Judge ye if it be with strength scratch her. She took an her will or no.'; — The Earl of Lennox apple out of her pocket and offered to Lady Lennox, April 24. MSS. it, but it would not be received by Scotland, Rolls House. him, but the nurse took it, and to 2 Sentiment, both in words and in a greyhound bitch having whelps painting, has made much of this the apple was thrown. She ate it, parting charge of Mary Stuart to the and she and her whelps ^died pre- Earl of Mar. The story current sently ; a sugar loaf also for the at the time in Scotland, though as Prince was brought thither at the improbable as the fine sentiments same time and left there for the attributed on the occasion to the Prince, but the Earl of Mar keeps Queen, is more characteristic of the same. It is judged to be very contemporary feeling. Sir William evil compounded.' — Drury to Cecil, Drury writes : — May 20. Border MSS. 64 History of England. Chapxiii the Queen of Scotland; as the royal train appeared "7^7 he dashed forward with a dozen of his followers and April 24 seize(i her bridle:rein ; her guard flew to her side to defend her, when, with singular composure, she said she would have no bloodshed ; her people were outnumbered, and rather than any of them should lose their lives, she would go wherever the Earl of Bothwell wished.. Uncertain what to do, they dropped their swords, Huntly submitted to be disarmed, and, with Maitland and Melville, was made prisoner. Their followers dis? persed, and Bothwell, with his captives and the Queen, rode for Dunbar, The thinnest veil of affectation was scarcely maintained during the remainder of the journey. Blackadder, one of Bothwell's people who had charge of Melville, told him, as they went along, that it was all done with the Queen's consent.1 Drury, writing three days later from Berwick, was able to say that the violence which had been used was only apparent.2. The road skirted the south wall of Edinburgh. Some one was sent in, as if to ask for assistance for the Queen, and Sir James Balfour replied by firing the Castle guns at Bothwell's troop; but 'the pieces had been charged very well with hay,' 3 and gave out sound merely. Even the Spanish Ambassador, in transmitting to Philip the opinion of a trustworthy Catholic in formant, could but say that ' all -had been arranged beforehand, that the Queen, when the marriage was completed, might pretend that she had been forced into consent.4 1 Memoirs of Sir James Melville. to Cecil, April 27. Border MSS. 2 The manner of the Earl Both- 3 Druiy to Cecil, May.— Border: well's meeting with the Queen, MSS. ' \ though it appears to be forcible, yet 4 De Silva to Philip, May 3.— it is known to be otherwise.' — Drury MS. Simancas. The Retgn of Elizabeth. 65 It was twelve o'clock before the party reached Chapxiii Dunbar. There, safe at last in his own den, the Earl ,567 turned like a wolf on the man who had attempted to Apnl stand between him and his ambition. ' Maitland,' it is said, ' would have been slain that night,' but for the protection which his mistress threw over him. Huntly and Bothwell both set on him, and Mary Stuart. — be it remembered to her honour — thrust her body between the sword-points and the breast of one whose fault was that he had been her too faithful servant. ' She told Huntly that if a hair of Ledington's head did perish, she would cause him forfeit lands and goods and lose his life.' l Melville and Huntly were released the follow ing morning, but Maitland was detained close prisoner, and was still in danger of murder. He contrived to communicate with the 'English at Berwick, to whom he intended if possible to escape. The Queen remained to suffer (according to her subsequent explanation of what befell her) the violence which rendered her marriage with Bothwell a necessity, if the offspring which she expected from it was to be born legitimate. But this concluding outrage determined the action of the nobility. The last virtue which failed a Scot was jealousy of his country's honour — and they felt that they were becoming the byword of Europe. They wrote to Mary on the 27th of April offering her their swords, if it was true that she had been carried off unwillingly,2 and requesting to be certified of her pleasure; but whatever that pleasure might be, they 1 Maitland himself described the Bothwell's fury at Maitland's ex- scene to Drury. It is likely that pense. — Drury to Cecil, May 6. Huntly had consulted Maitland at Border MSS. Stirling, that Maitland revealed the 2 The Lords to the Queen of Scot- scheme to the Lords, and that land, April 27, from Aberdour. MS. Huntly desired to save himself from in possession of Mr. Richard Almack. ELIZ. HI. E 66 History of England. Chapxiii determined to acquiesce no longer in her remaining the "7^7 companion of Bothwell. Elizabeth had given them Apnl no sign of encouragement, but du Croc the French Ambassador said, that whenever they pleased to ask for it, they might have assistance from France. The Scotch alliance was of infinite moment to the Court - of Paris; the Queen of Scots had forfeited for a time the affection even of her own relations; she had flung away the interests of the Catholic League upon a vulgar passion ; and if the Scots would return to their old alliance, the French Court were ready to leave them free to do as they pleased with her. There was a profound belief that the Queen of Scots was a lost woman; that she would be a disgrace to any cause with which she was connected; and if the friendship of Scotland could be recovered to France by sacri ficing her, it would be cheaply purchased. Thus assured of support from one side or the other, the Earls of Mar, Morton, Athol, Argyle and others, assembled at Stirling a few days after Mary Stuart was carried off. They were determined at all hazards to take her out of Bothwell's hands, and if after the letter which they had addressed to her she persisted 1 in remaining with him, they made up their minds to depose her and crown the infant Prince.1 Kirkaldy, a friend of England, induced them with some difficulty to consult Elizabeth once more. ' The cold usage of my Lord of Murray,' Sir Robert Melville wrote to Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, 'lost your sovereign many hearts in this realm; they may be recovered, if she will be earnest in this most honest cause, and nourish a greater love than ever was be- 1 Drury to Cecil, May 5. — Border MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 67 tween the countries, that both Protestant and Papist Chapxiii may go one away.1 ,s67 ' The Queen,' wrote Kirkaldy to Lord Bedford,2 ' will May never cease till she has wrecked all the honest men of this realm. She was minded to cause Bothwell ravish her to the end that she may the sooner end the marriage. which she promised before she caused murder her hus band. There is many that would revenge the murder, but that they fear your mistress. The Queen minds here after to take the Prince out of the Earl of Mar's hands, and put him in his hands that murdered his father. I pray your Lordship let me know what your mistress will do, for if we seek France we may find favour at their hands, but I would rather persuade to lean to England.' Elizabeth still continued silent, and the French over tures continuing, the Lords were unwilling to wait longer upon her pleasure. It was known that Bothwell intended to destroy the Prince, for fear the Prince when he grew to manhood should revenge his father's death. There was no time to be lost, and they insisted on know ing explicitly what they were to look for from England. Du Croc, they said, had promised in the name of the King of France, that if they would relinquish the Enghsh alliance, they should have assistance to 'suppress' Both- well. Du Croc had warned the Queen herself that if she married Bothwell, ' she must expect neither friend ship nor favour' from the French Court. Finding that ' she would give no ear' to his remonstrances, he had offered to join the Lords at Stirling openly in his master's name; he had been lavish of promises if at 1 May 5, 1567. — MSS. Scotland, 2 Grange to Bedford, April 26. Rolls House. " MSS. Ibid. 68 History of England. Chapxiii the same time they would abandon the English alliance; i;67 and the Lords gave Elizabeth to understand that she May must send them some answer, and hold out to them some encouragement, or the hand so warmly offered by France would be accepted.1 Elizabeth, since her misadventure at the time of the Darnley marriage," had resolved to have no more to do with Scotch insurgents. Interference between subject and Sovereign had never been to her own taste. She had yielded with but half a heart to the urgency of Cecil, and she had gone far enough to commit herself, without having intended even then to go farther. The result had been failure, almost dishonour, and the aliena tion of a powerful party who till that time had been her devoted adherents. She was again confronted with a similar difficulty, and at a time which was extremely critical. The eight years, at the end of which, by the terms of the peace of Cambray, Calais was to be restored to England, had just expired. She had sent in her demand, and the French Government had replied that the peace of Cambray had been violated by England in the occupation of Havre, and that they were no longer bound by its provisions. On the part of England, it had been rejoined that the peace had been first broken by France in the usurpation of the Enghsh arms by Mary Stuart and the Dauphin, and by the notorious prepara- 1 Sir Robert Melville impressed the honest sort have concluded and on Cecil the same view of the ques- brought the rest to the same effect, tion. and will do nothing that will offend ' Thus far,' he said, 'I will make your Sovereign without the fault be your honour privy. France has of- in her Majesty ; and it appears both fered to enter in bond with the no- Papist and Protestant serve together. | bility of the realm, and to give divers with au earnest affection for the weal ^ pensions to noblemen and gentlemen, of their country. '—Robert Melville to which some did like well of; but Cecil, May 7. MSS. Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 69 tions which had been made to dethrone Elizabeth in Chapxiii their favour. So the dispute was hanging. The feeling ,567 between the two countries was growing sore and dan- May gerous, and in the midst of it Elizabeth was encoun tered by the dilemma of having to encourage a fresh revolt of the Scots, or of seeing the entire results of Cecil's policy undone, and Scotland once more in per manent alliance with England's most dangerous neigh bour. What was she ±o do? As usual, she attempted to extricate herself by ambiguities and delays. Lord Grey's instructions were out of date before he had started. She did not renew them ; Grey remained at the Court, and she communicated with the Lords through the Earl of Bedford, who had returned to Berwick. The rescue of the Queen, she said, the prosecution of the murderers of Darnley, and the protection of the young Prince, were objects all of which were most desirable ; she was pleased to find her own friendship preferred to that of France ; but she desired to be informed 'how she miffht, with honour to the world and satisfaction to her conscience,' 'intermeddle' to secure those objects. She could not see how it could be said that the Queen of Scots was forcibly detained by Bothwell, seeing that ' the Queen of Scots hourly had advertised him in a contrary manner; ' and again, however much the punishment of the murderers was to be wished for, if Bothwell married the Queen — ' being by common fame the principal author of the murder' — she could not tell how it could be brought about ' without open show of hostility.' The Lords, therefore, must tell her more particularly how they meant to proceed, and she hoped their intentions might be such as ' she could allow of in honour and conscience.' As to deposing 70 History of England. Chapxih the Queen and crowning the Prince, ' she thought it IS67 very strange for example's sake.' x May Elizabeth was more than usually enigmatical, since her real object was one which she durst not avow. Both she and the French desired to get the person of the Prince into their hands, under pretence of pro viding for his safety, and whichever first* approached the subject might throw the prize into the hands of the other. Bedford, however, was permitted to hint what the Queen- could not say, and to make the suggestion less unpalatable, he was allowed — as usual on his own responsibility — to hold out indefinite hopes to the Lords that they might calculate on Elizabeth's assist ance more surely than her own letter implied.2 But events were moving too fast for diplomacy of this kind. It was now publicly understood in Scotland that the marriage waited only till Bothwell's divorce suit was concluded, and the people were growing daily more fearless in the expression of their indignation. The boys at Stirling played the murder of Darnley . before the Lords. The trial of Bothwell followed, and the boy who represented Bothwell was found guilty, hurried to the gallows, and hung with such hearty goodwill that, hke the London youth who played Philip before Wyatt's insurrection, he was half dead before they cut him down.1 The law courts in Edin burgh were closed, as if the powers of the magistrates had ceased with the Queen's confinement. The whole country was hushed into the stillness which foretold the coming storm. Mary Stuart herself appeared en- 1 Bedford to Grange, June 5. 2 Ibid. Bedford to Cecil, June 5.— MSS. 3 Drury to Cecil, May 14.— Border Scotland, Rolls House. MSS The Reign of Elizabeth. 71 tirely careless. She rephed at last to the question Chapxiii which had been presented to her by the Lords : ' It I567 was true,' she said, 'that she had been evil and May strangely handled ; ' but she had since ' been so well used and treated that she had no cause to complain, and she wished them to quiet themselves.' l The Hamiltons, for their own purposes, had held aloof from the Stirling confederates ; the Archbishop of St. Andrews, the Duke's brother, had charge of the divorce case, which he was hurrying forward with all the speed which his courts allowed ; and relying on the treacherous support of his family, she despised alike the warnings and the menaces of the rest.2 The diffi culty foreseen by de Silva had occurred in Bothwell's suit ; the divorce being demanded by the wife on the ground of her husband's adultery, the law did not permit him to marry again. Lady Buccleuch had come to the rescue by volunteering to swear that he had promised marriage to her before he had mar ried Lady Bothwell, and that the latter, therefore, was not lawfully his wife;3 but shameless as the parties were, this resource was too much for their audacity; and at length a cousinship in the fourth degree was discovered between the Hepburns and the Gordons, for which the required dispensation had not been pro cured. On this ground the Archbishop declared Both well's marriage null ; for fuller security a suit was insti tuted in the Protestant Consistorial Court on the plea of adultery; and thus in the first week in May the ' Drury to Cecil, May 5. — Border hoping the rather to attain the sooner MSS. to their desired end.' — Drury to Cecil, 2 ' The Hamiltons are furtherers May 2. MSS. Ibid. of the divorce, and not least glad- 3 Same to the same, April 30.— dened with the proceedings at Court, MSS. Ibid. 72 History of England. Chapxih Earl found himself as free to marry again as his own i567 and the Archbishop's iniquity could render him. The May object of the stay at Dunbar having been accomplished, he returned on the 3rd to Edinburgh, accompanied by the Queen. On the following Sunday ' the banns ' were asked in St. Giles's Church. The minister John Craig refused at first to publish them ; but Bothwell threatened to hang him, and he submitted under pro test.1 Maitland, who was still kept with the Court as a prisoner, sent private word to Drury that the marriage would certainly take place, and that he him self intended to escape at the first opportunity and join his friends.2 On the 6th, Mary Stuart dared the indignation of Edinburgh by riding publicly through the streets with Bothwell at her bridle-rein. On the 7th, the last forms of the divorce were completed, and on the 8th, the Queen informed the world by proclamation that, ¦ moved by Bothwell's many virtues, she proposed to take him for her husband. The Court was still sur rounded by a band of cut-throats. The Queen had 5,000 crowns, besides her jewels. The gold font which Elizabeth presented at James's baptism was melted down at the Mint;1 and thus provided with means of paying their wages at least for a time, she assured herself that she had nothing to fear. On the 1 2th, she appeared in the Court of Session; 'Whereas the judges,' she said, ' had made some doubt to sit for the adminis tration of justice, in consequence of her captivity ; she desired them to understand that although she had been 1 Robert Melville to Cecil, May 3 Grange to Bedford, May 8.— j.—MSS. Scotland. MSS. Scotland. Drury to Cecil, 2 Drury to Cecil, May 6.— Border May 31.— MSS. Border. MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 73 displeased at her capture, the Earl's subsequent good Chapxiii behaviour, the recollection of his past services, and the I5g7 hope of further service from him in the future had May induced her to forgive him. She was now free, and under no restraint. The business of the state could go forward as usual, and as a token of her favour she intended to promote the Earl to further honour.' The same day she created Bothwell Duke of Orkney, ' the Queen placing the coronet on his head with her own hands.' x One distinct glimpse remains of this man now on the eve of his marriage, and before Mary Stuart's degra dation was completed. Sir James Melville, since his release from Dunbar, had kept at a distance from the Court, not liking the Earl's neighbourhood. He came, however, once more to Holyrood to see his mistress before all was over. When he entered the hall he found the new-made Duke sitting at supper there with Huntly and some of the ladies of the Court. The Duke ' bade him welcome,' said he was a stranger, and told him to sit down and eat. 'I said,' writes Melville — he may relate the scene in his own words — ' I said that I had supped already. Then he called for a cup of wine and drank to me, saying, "You need grow fatter; the zeal of the Commonwealth hath eaten you up and made you lean." Then he fell in discoursing with the gentle women, speaking such filthy language that they and I left him and went up to the Queen.' 2 To make an end of this. In the early daylight at four in the morning, on the 15th of May, Mary Stuart Queen of Scotland, Queen of France, and heir presumptive to the English Crown, > Keith. ? Memoirs of Sir James Melville. 74 History of England. Chapxiii became the wife of this the foulest ruffian among her ,567 subjects. Not a single nobleman was present; Huntly, May Crawford, Fleming, Boyd, Herries, were all in Edin burgh, but they held resolutely aloof. Du Croc ' came not,' though earnestly entreated. The ceremony was performed in the Council Chamber, not in the chapel. Adam Bothwell Bishop of Orkney, who called himself a Protestant, officiated; and hopeless of gaining the Catholics, the Earl expected idly that he might earn favour with the Reformers by bringing the Queen to dishonour openly the Catholic forms, and allow herself to be married with the Calvinist service. It was not without a pang that Mary Stuart made this last sacri fice to her passion, and broke the rules of a rehgion which no temptation hitherto had prevailed on her to part with. She was married ' in her dool weed,' in deep mourning, ' the most changed woman in the face that in so little time without extremity of sickness had been seen.' She heard mass that day for the last time, and thenceforth so long as they remained together both she and her husband were to be Protestants.. In true Calvinistic fashion the Earl did pubhc penance for his past iniquities. A sermon followed the mar riage, in which the bishop 'did declare the peni tence of the Earl Bothwell for his life past, confess ing himself to have been an evil and wicked liver, which he would now amend, and conform himself to the Church.' x The passive Queen in all things sub mitted. His first act was to obtain a revocation from her of all licenses to use the Catholic services, and a declaration that for the future the Act of Religion of 1560, prohibiting the mass to every one, should be strictly maintained.2 1 Drury to Cecil, May 16.— Border MSS. 2 Keith. The Reign of Elizabeth. 75 1567 May It seems as if the fatal step once taken, Mary Stuart's Chapxiii spirit failed her. More than once already in her sane intervals she had seen through the nature of the man for whom she was sacrificing herself. She had been stung by his coldness, or frightened at his indifference, which she struggled unsuccessfully to conceal from herself; and the proud woman had prostrated herself at his feet, in the agony of her passion, to plead for the continuance of his love.1 1 How profoundly she was at tached to Bothwell appears in the following letter — one of the two of which I have recovered the original words. It was written just before the marriage. ' Monsieur, — ' Si l'ennuy de vostre absence, celuy de vostre oubli, la crainte du dangier tant promis dun chacun a vostre tant ayme personne peuvent me consoller, je vous en lesse a juger ; veu le malheur que mon cruel sort et continuel malheur m'avoient promis, a la suite des in- fortunes et craintes, tant recentes que passes, de plus longue main, les quelles vous scaves. Mais pour tout cela je me vous accuserai ni de peu de souvenance, ni de peu de soigne, et moins encore de vostre promesse violee, ou de la froideur de vos let tres ; m'estant ya tant randue vostre que ce qu'il vous plaist m'est agre- able ; et sont mes penses tant volon- terement aux vostres asubjectes, que je veulx presupposer que tout ce que vient de vous procede non par aulcune des causes desusdictes, ains pour telles qui sont justes et raison- nables, et telles que je desire moy- mesme : que est l'ordre que m'aves promis de prendre final pour la seurte et honorable service du seul soubtien de ma vie, pour qui seul je la veux conserver et sans lequel je ne desire que breve mort : or est pour vous tesmoigner combien humblement sous vos commandement je me soub- metz, je vous ay envoie" en signe d'homage par Paris l'ornement du chief, conducteur des aultres mem- bres, inferant que vous investant de la despoille luy qui est principal, le rest ne peult que vous estre subject ; et avecques le consentement du cosur, an lieu du quil, puis que le vous ay j a lesse, jej vous envoie un sepulcre de pierre dure, peinct du noir, seme de larm.es et de ossements. La pierre je la compare a mon cueur qui comme luy est talle en un seur tombeau, ou receptacle de vos com mandments, et sur tout du vostre nom et memoire, que y sont enclos comme mes cheveulx en la bague, pour jamais n'en sortir que la mort ne vous permet faire trophe"e des mes os : comme la bague en est remplie, . en signe que vous aves fayt entiere conqueste de moy de mon cueur, et jusque a vous en lesser les os pour memoir de vostre victoire et de mon agreable perte. ' Les larmes sont sans nombre, ain- si sont les craintes, de vous desplair ; les pleurs de vostre absence et le 76 History of England. Chapxiii She was jealous of his divorced wife, to whom she "7^~ suspected that he was still attached, and he in turn ^ was irritated at any trifling favour which she might show to others than himself.1 On the day of her mar riage she told du Croc that she was so miserable that she only wished for death;2 and two days after, in Bothwell's presence, she called for a dagger to kill herself.3 Du Croc gave her poor consolation. He told desplaiser de ne pouvoir estre en effect exterieur vostre comme je suys sans faintyse de cueur et d'esprit: et a bon droit quand mes merites seront trop plus grands que de la plus perfayte que jamais feut, et telle que je desire estre : et inettray peine en condition de contrefair pour dignement estre employee soubs vostre domination. Resents la done mon seul bien en aussi bonne part comme avecques extreme joie j'ay fait vostre mariage, qui jusque a celuy de nos corps en public ne sortira de mon sein, comme merque de tout ce que jay ou espere ni desire de felicite en ce monde. Or crai- gnant mon cueur de vous ennuyer autant a lire que je me plaise descrir, je finiray, apres vous avoir baise" les mains d'aussi grande affection, queje prie Dieu o le seul soubtien de ma vie vous la donner longue et heu- reuse, et a moy vostre bonne grace comme le seul bien queje desire et a quoy j e tends.' — MSS. Mabt Queen of Scots, vol. ii. No. 66. Rolls House. 1 ' There is often jars between the Queen and the Duke already. He was offended with her for the gift of a horse which was the King's to the Abbot of Arbroath' (Lord John Hamilton).— Drury to Cecil, May — 1 567. Border MSS. The anger about Arbroath may have been jealousy. ' There is awitch in the North Land,' Drury wrote on the 20th of May, ' that affirms that the Queen shall have yet to come two husbands more ; Arbroath shall be one of them, to succeed the Duke now, who she says shall not Uve half a year or a year at the most. The fifth husband she names not, but she says in his time she shall be burned, which death divers doth speak of to happen to her, and as yet it is said she fears the same.' 2 A very commonplace reason was given by Maitland for her unhappi ness. ' Bothwell,' he said, ' would not let her look at any one, or let any one look at her, et qu'il scavoit bien qu'elle aymoit son plaisir et a passer son temps aultant que autre du mond.' — Du Croc to Catherine de Medici, June 17. Tetjxet, vol. ii. 3 Du Croc to Catherine de Medici, May 18. — Ibid. Sir James Melville, probably referring to the same scene, says, ' The Queen meanwhile was so disdainfully handled and with such reproachful language, that in pre sence of Arthur ErsHne, I heard her ask for a knife to stab herself; " or else, "said she, "I shall drown myself. " ' — Memoirs of Sir James MelviUe. The Reign of Elizabeth. 77 her that her marriage was utterly inexcusable; if Chapxiii the Queen-mother had not forbidden him to leave his "T567" post he would not have remained in Edinburgh after it May had taken place, and he refused to pay respect to Bothwell as her husband.1 Yet her periods of wretched ness were but the intermittent cold fits in the fever of her passion. She had sacrificed herself soul and body, and he held her enthralled in the chains of her own burning affection. In Scotland generally there was yet outward still ness. The Lords had threatened that if she married they would crown the Prince. It seemed as if they had thought better of it, for they dispersed to their homes; and the Queen, taking courage, sent a demand to the Earl of Mar for the surrender of Stirling and of the child. Elizabeth's uncertain answer had delayed the resolution to act ; and Mar, not venturing to give a direct refusal, could only reply that 'he dared not deliver the Prince out of his hands without consent of the Estates.' The answer was allowed to pass. It was not Bothwell's object to precipitate a quarrel, and he continued to follow the course which he began at his marriage by paying court to the Protestants. He attended the daily sermons with edifying regularity, and was pointedly attentive to the ministers. Every day he rode out with the Queen, and was ostenta tiously respectful in his manner to her. There were pretty struggles when he would persist in riding ' un- bonneted,' and she would snatch his cap and force it on his head. ' The hate of the people increased more and more,' yet he would not see it; ahd though he went 1 ' Si est ce que jay parle bien voullu recognoistre comme mary de bault . . . ni depuis ne l'ay point la Reyne.'— Tetjlet, vol. ii. 78 History of England. Chapxih nowhere without a guard, yet he offered himself as a "7^7 guest at the meals of the unwilling Edinburgh citizens. May On the 25th of May, to amuse the people, there was a pageant at Leith, and a sham fight on the water was got up by Bothwell's followers. Everything was tried to dispel the strangeness, and make the marriage appear like any other ordinary event. The Bishop of Dunblane was sent to Paris, to pacify the Queen's friends there. He was to excuse her as having been forced into marry ing Bothwell by what had happened at Dunbar ; yet not so severely to blame him as to make him appear unfit to be her husband. It was but a limping message. She said in her instructions to the Bishop, that the Earl had been misled into violence by the vehemency of his love, that he had been a faithful servant in her past troubles, and, that persecuted as he was by calumny, she had no means of saving his life except by becoming his wife. Not very consistently with this argument, she said that all Scotland seemed to be at his devotion. Her people desired to see her married rather to a native Scot than to a stranger. Bothwell had shocked her in many ways ; especially he ought to have considered what was due to her rehgion. Yet she did not wish that too much fault should be laid upon him. The past could not be recalled. He was her husband, and she trusted that other courts would accept him as such. It might be objected that he had been already married; but a legal divorce had been pronounced, and he was free before she became his wife.1 She could not conceal from herself the lameness of the explanation, but she hoped it would be admitted as tolerable; and she wrote at the same time to the 1 Instructions to the Bishop of Dunblane.— Keith. The Reign of Elizabeth. 79 Archbishop of Glasgow, begging him 'to bestow his Chapxiii study in the ordering of the message, and in persuading "7567" those to whom it was directed to believe that it was the May truth.' x Dunblane made but a poor apologist. He spoke of himself when he arrived as a fugitive for religion from a country where the Catholic faith would no longer be permitted to exist. The Archbishop of Glasgow did his best, with truth or without it. He ventured a falsehood to the Spanish Ambassador, assuring him that the report that she had forsaken her rehgion was incorrect, and that the day after her marriage a thousand persons had ' heard mass with her. Dunblane, however, let out the fatal certainty, and with it his own fears, that 'unless God set to His hand, there would soon be no more mass in Scotland.' 2 The French Court received the apology with open and undisguised contempt. Mary Stuart was regarded as a lost woman, and their own pohcy was now to anticipate England in supporting the Lords, to get the Prince into their hands; and recover thus the influence which they had lost. ' The Queen-mother,' wrote Sir H. Norris,3 ' is minded all she can to make profit of 1 Mary Stuart to the Archbishop of uno obispo el mayor herege que ay Glasgow, May 27. — LABANOFF,vol.ii. en aquel reyno ; y que toda la ceri- 2'Dix6 me el dicho embajador monia fug a la Calvinista : y ninguno (the Archbishop of Glasgow, am- de los dias despues del matrimonio bassador at Paris) que el dia si- sabe que se haya dicho en su casa, guiente del matrimonio de su ama, y que algunos particulares la hacen fiie" publicamente a la missa, y que decir en sus casas secretamente, pero hubo mill personas en ella. Dice el que esto se acabara presto si Dios obispo (de Dunblane) que es burla, no pone su mano.' — Don Frances de y verdad que el proprio dia que se Alava d Felipe II. Junio i 6. Tetj- caso, oyd missa, y de la capilla donde IET, vol. v. la oyo fue a una sala grande donde 3 The English Minister at Paris. se hizo el matrimonio por mano de 80 History of England. Chapxiii this cruel murder, and to renew the old practices there 67 with as many as shall be able to serve her turn.' x May ' Your Majesty,' said du Croc to his mistress, ' may show yourself as displeased as you will with this mar riage. It is a bad business. For myself, I had better withdraw, and leave the Lords to play their game for themselves.' 2 It was not to be long in playing. The first week in June, Argyle, Morton, Athol, Glencairn, the Master of Graham, Hume, Herries, Lindsay, Tullibardine, Grange, and many other noblemen and gentlemen, rejoined Mar at Stirling. Maitland stole away to them from the Court without leavetaking. Catholic and Protestant for once were going heartily together. Their first thought was to make a stoop on Holy- rood, surround the palace, and take Bothwell prisoner. Argyle, who was himself too deeply committed in the murder to take an active part, sent warning to the Queen; and the Duke, seeing plainly that the crisis was come, and that he must fight or perish, determined to be the first in the field. Money was again wanting. Mary Stuart had not disposed of her jewels, and the guard was mutinous and untrustworthy. Bothwell's chief strength lay among the borderers. He sent word to his friends to collect at Melrose on the 7th of June; and dropping the Queen at Borthwick Castle on his way, hastened down, with as many of his men as would fol low him, to place himself at their head. He was out of favour with fortune, however. Maxwell, Herries, and Lord Hume prevented the borderers from moving, and on reaching the rendezvous he found no one there. 1 Sir H. Norris to Sir N. Throg- 2 Du Croc to Catherine de Medici, morton, May 23.— Conway MSS. May 18.— Tetjlet, vol. ii. Rolls House, The Reign of Elizabeth. 81 He returned upon his steps, rejoined the Queen, and Chapxiii sent to Huntly, the Archbishop of St. Andrews, and 1567 Sir James Balfour, who were in Edinburgh Castle, to June IO come to him with all the force which they could raise. The Lords themselves meanwhile on hearing of the Queen's departure had removed to Edinburgh. Both well's messenger was intercepted by a band of Morton's followers; and Morton, learning where Bothwell was, attempted to surprise him. Hume, Lindsay, and Mar joined the party, and on the night of the 10th (Tuesday) they galloped down to Borthwick, and surrounded the castle in the darkness. Some of them, professing to represent the succours expected from Edinburgh, pre sented themselves at the gate ; they said that they were pursued, and clamoured for admittance. The Duke at the moment was stepping into bed. He flung on his clothes on hearing the noise, and reached the courtyard barely in time to discover the mistake and prevent the stratagem from being successful. But the castle was unfurnished and could not long be defended. He knew that if he was taken he would be instantly killed, that his dangerous secrets might die with him ; and, accom panied only by a son of Lord Cranston, he slipped out by a postern among the trees. The fugitives were seen and chased, and they separated to distract their pursuers, who unluckily followed and caught the wrong man. Bothwell was not an arrowshot distant; and young Cranston in his terror pointed to the way which he had taken, but he was not believed. The Duke escaped to Haddington, and thence to Dunbar. The Lords, not knowing at first that he was gone, were shouting under the windows — ' calling him traitor, murderer, butcher,' 'bidding him come out and main tain his challenge.' The Queen too was not spared, eliz. 111. G 82 History of England. Chapxiii and foul taunts were flung at her, which she, desperate i567 now and like a wild cat at bay, returned in kind.1 When June 10 ^ey learned that Bothwell had escaped, they drew off, leaving the Queen to dispose of herself as she pleased, and returned to Edinburgh. They arrived at eight in the morning. The castle party had shut the gates, but Lindsay scaled the wall without meeting any resist ance, and the Lords then entering in a body repaired to the marketplace, and declared publicly that they had risen in arms ' to pursue their revenge for the death of the King.' Du Croc, anxious to prevent bloodshed, went to the castle to consult Huntly, and by Huntly's advice sent to Mary to offer to mediate. She replied that he might do what he could, but if the Lords in tended to injure her husband she would make no terms with them.2 Thus events were left to their course, and as the mountain heather when kindled in the dry spring weather blazes in the wind, and the flame spreads and spreads till all the horizon is ringed with fire, so at the proclamation of the Lords the hearts of the Scotch people flashed up in universal conflagration. The murdered Darnley was elevated into a saint and endowed with all imaginary virtues;3 and in flying broadsheets of verse, every Scot who could wield 1 'With divers undutiful and un- perhaps had to be shown to Eliza- seemly speeches used against their beth, and Cecil may have feared to Queen and Sovereign, too evil and let her see what might exasperate unseemly to be told, which, poor her too much against the Lords. Princess, she did with her speech 2 ' Mais s'ilz ataquoient a, son mari defend, wanting other means in her qu'elle ne vouloit poinct d'appoint- revenge.'— Drury to Cecil, June 12. ment.' —Du Croo to Charles IX, June These words were crossed out in the 12. Tet/iet, vol. ii. MS. and made illegible, though from 3 The feeling of the Scottish peo- the fading of the second ink they pie at this crisis is singularly and can now again be read. The letter powerfully expressed in the follow- The Reign of Elizabeth. 83 blade, couch lance, or draw trigger, was invited to take Chapxih part in the revenge. T&j June ing ballad, which was printed on broadsheets and scattered about Edinburgh : — A Ballad. To Edinburgh about six hours at morn, As I was passing pansand out the way, Ane bonny boy was sore making his moan ; His sorry song was Oche and walla way. That ever I should lyve to see that day, Ane King at eve with sceptre, sword, and crown ; At morn but a deformed lump of clay, With traitors strong so cruelly put down ! Then drew I near some tidings for to speir, And said, My friend, what makis thee sa way ; Bloody Bothwell hath brought our King to beir And flatter and fraud with double Dalilay. At ten houris on Sunday late at een When Dalila and Bothwell bade good-night, Off her finger false she threw ane ring, And said, My Lord, ane token you I plight. She did depart then with an untrue train, And then in haste an culverin they let craik, To teach their feiris to know the appoint time About the Kinge's lodging for to clap. To dance that night they said she should not slack, With leggis lycht to hald the wedow walkan ; Said baid fra bed until she heard the crack, Whilk was a sign that her good Lord was slain. 0 ye that to our Kirk have done subscryve, These Achans try alsweill traist I may, [f ye do not the time will come belyve, That God to you will raise some Josuay ; Whilk shall your bairnis gar sing wallaway, And ye your selvis be put down with shame ; Remember on the awesome latter day, When ye reward shall receive for your blame. [ ken right well ye knaw your duty, Gif ye do not purge you ane and all, Then shall I write in pretty poetry, In Latin laid in style rhetorical j «2 84 History of England. Chapxiii A message came up from Berwick that if there was 1567 to be a civil war, the Lords had better send the Prince June Which through all Europe shall ring like ane bell, In the contempt of your malignity. Fye, flee fra Clytemnestra fell, For she was never like Penelope. With Clytemnestra I do not fane to fletch Who slew her spouse the great Agamemnon ; Or with any that Ninus' wife does match, Semiramis quha brought her gude Lord down. Quha do abstain fra litigation, Or from his paper hald aback the pen ? Except he hate our Scottish nation, Or then stand up and traitors' deeds commend ? Now all the woes that Ovid in Djin, Into his pretty little book did write, And many mo be to our Scottish Queen, For she the cause is of my doleful dyte. Sa mot her heart be fillet full of syte, As Herois was for Leander's death ; Herself to slay for woe who thought delyte, For Henry's sake to like our Queen was laith. The dolour als that pierced Dido's heart, When King Enee from Carthage took the flight ; For the which cause unto a brand she start, And slew herself, which was a sorry sight. Sa might she die as did Creusa bright, The worthy wife of douty Duke Jason ; Wha brint was in ane garment wrought by slight Of Medea through incantation. Her laughter light be like to true Thisbe, When Pyramus she found dead at the well, In languor like unto Penelope, For Ulysses who long at Troy did dwell. Her dolesome death be worse than Jezebel, Whom through an window surely men did thraw ¦ Whose blood did lap the cruel hundys fell, And doggis could her wicked bainis gnaw. Were I an hound — oh ! if she were an hare, And I an cat, and she a little mouse, And she a baim, and I a wild wod bear, I an ferret, and she Cuniculus. The Reign of Elizabeth. 85 to England for security. It was a poor dishonest over- Chapxih ture, and at the moment and in their present humour 1567 they had no leisure for such small intrigues. They had taken in hand an unexampled enterprise, and till the work was done they would not let their minds be called away from it. On Wednesday night, the 1 ith, Mary Stuart herself stole away, disguised as a man, from Borthwick. Bothwell met her on the road and brought her to Dunbar, where she arrived at three in the morning. There, without wardrobe, without attendants save the Duke's troopers, she borrowed a dress from some woman about the place. The Captain of Inchkeith, a Frenchman in Bothwell's pay, who came in at his master's summons, found the Queen of Scotland in a short jacket with a red petticoat which scarcely reached below her knees,1 the royal dignity laid aside with the royal costume — but once more herself in her own free fierce nature, full of fire and fury. As before, when she had fled to the same Dunbar after Rizzio's To her I shall be aye contrarius — When to me Atropos cut the fatal thread, And fell deithis dartys dolorous, * Then shall our spirits be at mortal feid. My spirit her spirit shall douke in Phlegethon, Into that painful filthy flood of hell, And then in Styx and Lethe baith anone— And Cerberus that cruel hound sa fell Shall gar her cry with mony gout and yell, 0 wallaway that ever she was born, Or with treason by ony manner mell, Whilk from all bliss should cause her be forlorn. 1 'Estantadverti je partis deceste tounriche (sic) avec un tafetaz par- ville pour les aller trouver a Donbar, dessus.' — Tetjlet, vol. ii. p. 303. The ou elle estoit abillee d'une cotte account in Calderwood says merely rouge qui ne luy venoyt que a. demie ' a short petticoat little syder than de la jambe, et avoit emprunte" ung her knees,' vol. ii. p. 364. 86 History of England. Chapxih murder, she seemed to need no rest. Her one thought "T567" was to rally every man from every corner of the country Sime who would rise in her cause. The hackbutters were got together, two hundred of them, some light field- pieces, and a few score of horse. Bothwell went off towards the Border again, where his own people were at last gathering to join him; and not caring to be cooped up in Dunbar, the Queen dared her fate, and resolved to advance against the Confederate Lords. On Thurs day morning she had reached Dunbar — on Saturday she moved out of it at the head of some six hundred men, who in one way or another she had scraped to gether. Bothwell joined her at Haddington with six teen hundred more, and together they went on to Seton. There, in that spot, full to her of evil memories, they passed the night. The next day they meant to be in Edinburgh, where they hoped to find the castle still held for them by Sir James Balfour. Hearing that the Queen was coming, the Lords mads up their minds for the struggle. The same Saturday before midnight the trumpets sounded to horse. By two o'clock on the Sunday morning their little army was on .the road to Musselburgh — two thousand men more or less — about as many as were with the Queen and Bothwell. The dawn was clear and cloudless, the still opening of a hot June day, as they wound along the valley under Arthur's Seat. Their banner was spread between two spears. The figure of a dead man was wrought upon it lying under a tree; a shirt lay on the ground, a broken branch, and a child on its knees at its side, stretching its hands to heaven and crying, ' Judge and revenge my cause, 0 Lord.' So in the grey light they swept on ; at five they were at the old bridge at Musselburgh, and there halted to The Reign of Elizabeth. 87 breakfast. Du Croc, in the absence of positive in- Chap xiu structions, could not commit himself by accompanying 1567 them, but he followed at a distance, and while they une I5 were waiting came up and again volunteered to mediate. Whatever had been their sovereign's faults, he said they were bound to remember that she was their sovereign. As they had not accepted his previous overtures, he could not answer what the Court of France might do, and victory might be as embarrassing to them as defeat. Had the Lords shown any resolute intentions of throwing themselves upon France, his language would doubtless have been very different ; but they had seen in both France and England a mean desire to make political advantage out of their difficulties, and with serious business in hand they did not choose to be trifled with. They replied coldly that there were but two modes by which bloodshed could be avoided. If the Queen would abandon the wretch whom she called her hus band, they were ready to return to their allegiance. If Bothwell would maintain his own challenge, either alone, or with as many seconds as he pleased, they would produce on their side an equal number, who were ready to fight in the quarrel. Du Croc, apparently conscious that neither of these alternatives would be accepted, asked if there was no third expedient. They said that they could think of nothing else. They would rather be buried alive than leave the King's murder unexamined into and un punished. The God of Heaven would revenge it upon them if they sate still. Du Croc asked to be allowed to go forward to the Queen. They were most unwilling to consent, 88 History of England. Chapxiii They knew not what he might say or do. He pro*- 1567 mised that if he failed to persuade her to make some unei$ concessions he would not remain with her. They still hesitated, but at last Maitland interposed and they yielded. They gave him a few horse for an escort, and bade him go to the Queen or go where he would. Mary Stuart, on the news that the Lords were advancing, had been early in the field at Seton. Her pennons could be seen from beyond the bridge, two miles distant, on the brow of the hills towards Preston Pans, on the ground on which the Enghsh army had - slept twenty years before, the eve of the battle of Pinkie Cleugh. Du Croc was led into her. presence. She was sitting on a stone in the dress which she had borrowed at Dunbar. He told her how it would grieve the King of France and the Queen-mother to hear the issue at which she had arrived with her subjects. He told her what the Lords had said, and implored her to consider what she was doing. She said fiercely that the Lords were going against their own plighted word. They had themselves ac quitted the Earl of the crime of which they now accused him. They had themselves recommended her to marry him. They should submit and sue for mercy, and she would then receive them back into her favour. While she was speaking Bothwell came up with his suite. Du Croc saluted him distantly, but declined to take his hand.1 He demanded in a loud voice, that all who were standing round might hear, whether it was against himself that the Lords' enmity was directed. Du Croc replied, in the same high tone, that the Lords had assured him of their loyalty to the Queen; 1 -our late husband, profess ' ourselves earnestly bent to do anything in our power ' to procure the due punishment of that murder against ' any subject that you have, how dear soever you hold 'him; and next thereto, to be careful how your son the ' Prince may be preserved, for the comfort of you and 'your realm; which two things we have from the be- ' ginning always taken to heart, and therein do mean ' to continue ; and would be very sorry but you should ' allow us therein, what dangerous persuasions soever be ' made to you for the contrary. ' Now for your comfort in such adversity as we have The Reign of Elizabeth. 109 ' heard you should be in-^-whereof we cannot tell what Chap xiv ' to think to be true — we assure you, that whatsoever we 1567 ' can imagine meet to be for your honour and safety that u y ' shall lie in our power, we will perform the same ; that ' it shall well appear you have a good neighbour, a dear ' sister, a faithful friend ; and so shall you undoubtedly ' always find us and prove us to be indeed towards you ; ' for which purpose we are determined to send with all ' speed one of our trusty servants, not only to under- ' stand your state, but also, thereupon, so to deal with ' your nobility and people, as they shall find you not to ' lack our friendship and power for the preservation of ' your honour and greatness.' l It would seem from the tone of this letter as if the details of the Queen of Scots' misadventures were as yet but vaguely known in London. Elizabeth appeared only to understand that the Queen of Scots was on bad terms with her subjects, and had met with some large disaster. In the same spirit, and by the same mes senger, she wrote to the Lords. She never clearly remembered that the Scotch nobi lity were not her own subjects. She addressed them habitually in the language of authority, and on the pre sent occasion took on herself to dictate, as if she was their Lady Paramount, the line of conduct which she expected them to pursue. First she required the evidence of Bothwell's guilt to be laid out distinctly before her, that ' she might be induced to beheve the same by all probable means.' He might then be divorced from the Queen of Scots, and be punished with his accomplices. His castles 1 Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots, June 23. — MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. 110 History of England. Chap xiv she desired to see be placed in the hands of ' neutral If67 noblemen,' who should bind themselves to admit no July French or Spanish troops into Scotland; and the Queen should for the future be assisted in the administra tion by a Council, to be chosen by the Parliament of Scotland. Ehzabeth said that she expected the Act for the establishment of the Protestant religion to be at length formally ratified; and the Constitution so established would then be upheld and guaranteed by the English Government.1 Thus having arranged all things to her own satisfac tion, she chose Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, the strongest supporter in the Court of Mary Stuart's claims on the English succession, to carry down her pleasure to the Confederate Noblemen. That he would be permitted to see Mary Stuart was assumed as a matter of course. Elizabeth believed that she had but to express her plea sure as to the settlement of the State to be immediately obeyed; and still more satisfied with herself and her good intentions, she thought proper to accompany the execution of them with a second and stronger admo nition to the Queen of Scots, on the magnitude of her recent offences. 'Her fame and honour,' she said, 'had been in all parts of Christendom impaired and decayed;' her hus band had been horribly murdered, almost in her pre sence, and the perpetrators of the crime were going 1 Notes for the government of Joash regem.' Scotland for Sir N. Throgmorton, Meaning perhaps, that if Mary July 1567. — MSS. Scotland, Rolls Stuart was continued on the throne, House. At the foot of the page she would destroy the Prince if she Cecil wrote the following most sig- could, and if the Prince was saved mficant note : — from her, he in turn might revenge ' Athaliah Regina intercepta per on her his father's death. The Reign of Elizabeth. Ill at large unpunished and unsought after. ' She had Chap xiv favoured and maintained the Earl of Bothwell, a man 1567 of infamous life, and notoriously charged by all the uy world as the principal assassin. She had assisted him in procuring a divorce such as was never heard of; that a man guilty should for his own offence put away his innocent wife, and that to be coloured by form of law ; ' and finally, ' she had brought mortal reproof upon herself, by taking that defamed person to be her husband.' ' These doings,' Ehzabeth continued, ' had been so shocking, that she had never thought to have dealt more with the Queen of Scots in the way of advice,' ' taking her by her acts to be a person desperate to recover her honour.' She had not been alone in her ill opinion of her. ' Other princes, the Queen of Scots' friends and near kinsfolk, were of like judgment.' Her capture and imprisonment, however, had ' stirred a new altera tion and passion of her mind.' She 'felt her stomach provoked to an inward commiseration of her sister ; ' nor ' could she suffer her, being by God's ordinance a Princess and Sovereign, to be in subjection to those who by nature and law were subject to her.' She in tended to interfere in her favour, and ' to do as much for her (the circumstances of her case being considered), as if she was her natural sister or only daughter.' The Queen of Scots must tell Throgmorton the whole truth, 'that her subjects might be reprehended for things unduly laid to her charge.' ' Where her faults could not be avoided or well covered, the dealing therein should be so used and tempered as her honour might be stayed from ruin, and her state recovered to some better accord.' If her subjects would not consent to 112 History of England. Chap xiv make arrangements with her, ' she should not lack iS67 English aid to compel them thereto.' July So much for the message to the Queen, whom, at the same time, Elizabeth recommended 'to use wisdom and not passion in her adversity;' and to remember that her own faults had brought her to the trouble in which she found herself. To the Lords she assumed the power and the lan- ¦ guage of supreme feudal arbiter. She directed Throg morton to tell them that ' she neither would nor could endure, for any respect, to have their Queen and Sove reign to be by them imprisoned, or deprived of her state, or put in peril of her person.' Subjects had no right to take upon themselves to reform the faults of princes ; they might seek the amendment of their Queen's faults by counsel and humble requests ; if they did not succeed, they ' should remit themselves to Almighty God, in whose hands only princes' hearts remained.' For 'doing justice upon the murderers,' she believed the Queen of Scots would consent to it. If she refused, the Lords could do no more : but Eliza beth conceived 'that some power existed in herself, and that' for the punishment of horrible and abominable facts, one prince and neighbour might use compulsion with another.' Finally, she impressed on Throgmorton himself the desirableness of bringing the Prince to England. He would then be out of personal danger, 'and many good things might ensue to him of no small moment;' that is to say, the road would be opened to him towards the succession. ' She meant truly and well to the child;' and while she cautioned Throgmorton to be wary in approaching so ticklish a subject, she said at the same time, 'that of all matters by him The Reign of Elizabeth: 113 to be compassed, she would most esteem of his success Chap xiv in this.' l 1567 In the policy which she was pursuing Elizabeth may have consulted wisely for her own reputation ; but her attitude of haughty dictation was the last which she ought to have assumed, if she desired Scotch statesmen to be guided by her wishes. The tone of semi-command was certain to irritate the national sensitiveness; nor had she understood the extraordinary complication of Scotch parties and interests. In the hatred of Bothwell the Lords of all creeds and parties had been unanimous. Glencairn, Mar, and Lindsay among the Protestants, Caithness and Athol among the Catholics, had been unconnected from the first with the intrigue for Darnley's murder, and were sincere in their horror of it. Argyle, Huntly, Mait land, and Sir James Balfour, who had been parties with Bothwell to the bond at Craigmillar, were equally indignant at his relations with the Queen, and equally determined to separate him from her. 1 Instructions to Sir N. Throg- han respondido que no se le quieren morton, June 30. — MSS. Scotland, dar . . . y a los que se le pedian de Rolls House. From the commence- parte desta Reyna, que tenian en ment of the disturbances both France mucho el cuidado que mostraba de and England had been making over- la seguridad de su vida, pero que no tures to get possession of the Prince. querian que el nifio saliese ni se De Silva writes on the 21st of June criase fuera de aquel reyno.' — MSS. to Philip : — Simancas. ' Tienen al Principe en mucha On the 1 3th of July, Cecil wrote guarda. El Embajador que esta en to Sir H. Sidney : — aquel Reyno por el Rey de Francia ' We are in secret contention with ha hecho gran instancia para haberle, the French who shall get the Prince como tengo escrito por todas las vias of Scotland. They fish with hooks que he podido — prometiendo a los of gold, and we but with speech. Sefiores y a otros de parte de su Sir N. Throgmorton is in Scotland Rey pensiones y otras dadivas por about these matters.' — MSS. Ireland, cartas del Rey. Resolutamente le Rolls House. ELIZ III. I 114 • History of England. Chap xiv No sooner, however, was Mary Stuart at Lochleven^ T567" than private feuds, and political divisions and sympa- July thies, split and rent the Confederacy in all directions. Some had French sympathies; some were for the old religion, and some were for the new. After the Queen and the Prince, the next place in the succession was disputed between the House of Hamilton and the House of Lennox. If the Queen was deposed, the Regency, in the Prince's minority, would go by the custom of Scot land to the nobleman next in blood to the Crown. The Queen, by her marriage with Darnley, had estranged the Hamiltons. The Hamiltons, in return, had been privy to the murder, and had encouraged afterwards the marriage of the Queen with Bothwell, simply in the hope that she, too, would be ruined, the Prince probably murdered also, and the throne of Scotland become theirs. On the other hand, the Protestants, and the friends of England and of the House of Lennox, were opposed equally to the claims of a family who were half Papist and half French. A fortnight after Carberry Hill, Sir William Drury wrote that already the question was asked of every man, ' Was he a Hamilton or a Stuart.' ' The Hamiltons could not digest that the Prince should be at the devotion of England ;' and there was a strong anti- English faction at their back : while Morton, Athol, Ruthven, and Mar were utterly opposed to them ; if the Prince died, these noblemen would have the Crown go to Darnley's younger brother ; and Drury ' thought it would prove hard for Scotland to nourish both families.'1 And, again, the difficulties were scarcely less in making a fair enquiry into the circumstances of the 1 Drury to Cecil, June 29, and July i.—MSS. Border. The Reign of Elizabeth. 1.15 murder. The world demanded an investigation ; yet if Chap xiv the investigation was more than a form, the names of 156: four or five of the most powerful men in the country uy could hardly fail to be compromised. Sir James Balfour made no secret of his own share in the crime. He, too, like the rest, was furious at having been taken in by Bothwell and the Queen ; and he earned his own pardon by surrendering Edinburgh Castle to the Lords, and by a frank confession of all that he knew. ' The Queen,' he said, ' one day sent for him, and after a few flattering words expressing the confidence which she placed in him, said that she could never forgive the King for his ingratitude, and for the death of David Rizzio ; he had become so hateful to her that she could not bear the sight of him; she wished to have him killed, and she desired Balfour's assistance.' Balfour, according to his own story, had replied, ' that in any other matter he would gladly serve her, but that to kill a king was more than he dared.' The Queen said that with her sanction he might do it ; she was his sovereign and he was bound to obey her. He again declined, and then she said he was a coward, and if he betrayed her confidence it should cost him his hfe.1 This account fell in but too 1 The Catholic correspondent of estaba determinado de le hacer ma de Silva is the authority for Sir tar, y que lo queria executar por su James Balfour's confession. The mano, y le pedia y mandaba se en- exact words are worth preserving. cargase dello. A lo qual el habia ' El qual declare que la Reyna le respondido que en cualquiera otra habia mandado llamar un dia aparte, cosa le serviria como era obligado, y le habia dicho despues de haber mas que en esto no lo podia hacer encarecido la confianca que del tenia, por ser su marido tenido y publicado que ella estaba muy indignada del por Rey. E que le habia replicado Rey por la muerte del secretario que el lo debia y podia hacer por David, y por la gran ingratitud que su mandado, que era su Reyna con ella habia usado ; y assi le tenia natural ; y que escusandose otra vez, tan aborreeido que no podia verle, y le habia dicho que ]o dexaba de 1 2 116 History of England. Chap xrv well with what was already known ; but the Lords, bad ,S67 and good, working together for their several ends, were July obliged to shield those who, like Balfour, were ready to desert to them ; and it was no less necessary to conceal the evidence which implicated Argyle and Huntly. An open and candid exposure of the whole truth — such an exposure as would have satisfied the demands of Elizabeth, or have acquitted the Confederates before the bar of posterity for their treatment of their own sovereign — was believed to be impossible. Meanwhile the body of the people, untroubled by difficulties of this kind, yet made unjust too on their side by the violence of religious fanaticism, had fastened the guilt exclusively on Mary Stuart. They had leamt from Knox that Papistiy was synonymous with devil- worship. The Queen, long hateful to them as the maintainer of Romish enormities, had now, like another Jezebel, shown herself in her true colours ; and as she had been a signal example of the moral fruits of her creed, so they desired to make her as signally an example in her punishment. No sooner had she been despatched to Lochleven, than Glencairn, with a party of Calvinist zealots, purged the chapel at Holyrood of its Cathohc ornaments, melt ing down the chalices, and grinding the crucifixes to powder ; while the alleys and wynds of Edinburgh were searched from loft to cellar, and such servants of the palace or followers of Bothwell as were found lurking there were seized and brought to trial. Sebastian, whose marriage on the night of the murder had been the excuse for the Queen's departure from the house at hacer de cobarde y no por otro re- que le habia dicho.'— De Silva to speto, y que le mandaba su pena de Philip, Sept. 6.— MSS. Simancas. muerte que no descubriese a nadie lo The Reign of Elizabeth. 117 Kirk o' Field, was one of the first to be taken, and it is Chap xiv to the credit of his examiners, considering the temper I567 of the times, that he was acquitted. Blackadder, it uy has been seen, was convicted, hanged, and quartered in a few hours. Powrie and Patrick Wilson were ex amined under torture.1 They confessed to their own share in the murder, and were reserved — probably because they knew no dangerous secrets — to keep their evidence available. On the 20th of June Sir James Balfour placed in the hands of the Confederates a body of documents, which for the first time revealed to many of them the inner history of the whole transaction. The Earl of Bothwell, on leaving Edinburgh for the Borders, had left in Balfour's hands the celebrated casket which contained the Queen's letters to himself, some love son nets, the bond signed at Seton before his trial, and another, probably that which was drawn at Craigmillar after the Queen's illness. The casket itself was a silver enamelled box, one of the treasures which Mary Stuart had brought with her from France. She had bestowed it upon her lover, and her lover in return had made use of it to preserve the proofs that he had been acting in the murder only as the instrument of his mistress, and with the authority of half her council.2 Being of in finite importance to him, he sent Dalgleish, one of his servants, from Dunbar after his flight from Carberry, 1 'The Council order the said per- cannot be denied by the most san- sons to be put in the irons and tor- guine defender of the Queen of ments for furthering of the trial of Scots, for it was admitted by her the verity, provided always that this own advocate. The only point on cause being for a Prince's murder, which a question can be raised, is the be not taken as a precedent in other exact nature of its contents. — See the cases.' — Sitting of the Lords of Secret statement of Lord Herries, Keith, CouncU, June 27. Keith. vol. i. p. 683, note. 2 That some casket was discovered 118 History of England. Chap xiv Hill, to fetch it. Balfour gave it to Dalgleish, but sent I567 private word to the Confederates, who captured both the July prize and its bearer. That the Queen had in some way and to some degree been an accomplice in the murder was already evident to all the world, except perhaps to Elizabeth. But her relations with Bothwell, the terms on which she had placed herself with him while she was still encumbered with a husband, the treachery, for which 'infernal' is not too hard an epithet, with which she had enticed him to the scene of his destruction, and the secret history of her capture at the Bridge, though conjectured too ac curately by popular suspicion, had not as yet been dis tinctly known, and the proofs of them laid out in deadly clearness acted on the heated passions of the Lords hke oil on fire. Even unscrupulous politicians like Maitland, who had seen no sin in ridding the world of a vindictive un manageable boy, might feel anger, might feel in a sense legitimate indignation, when they perceived the villany to which they had lent themselves. They might have experienced too some fear as well as some compunc tion, if, as Lord Herries said, the casket contained the Craigmillar bond, to which their names remained affixed. This at least it was necessary to keep secret, and un certain what to do they sent one of their number in haste to Paris to the Earl of Murray, to inform him of the discovery of the letters, and to entreat him to hurry back immediately.1 John Knox, who had been absent from Scotland 1 The theory that the letters were of the most important of them were forged in thelater maturity of the con- known to Murray before he left spiracy against the Queen falls asun- France. If forged therefore, the letters der before the proof that the contents must have been forged in the first The Reign of Elizabeth. 119 1567 July since the death of Rizzio, and had been half inclined ChapXIV to abandon his poor country altogether and return to Geneva and Calvin, came back at this crisis to resume the command of the Church, and the General Assembly met at Edinburgh on the 25th of June. Chatelherault was at Paris, paying his court to Charles and Catherine. The Archbishop of St. Andrews, Lord Arbroath, Argyle, Huntly, Crawford, Herries, Seton, Fleming — all those who preferred the French alliance to the English — were assembled at Hamilton Castle watching the proceedings heat and confusion of the revolution — at a time when the Confederates were endeavouring if possible to screen the Queen's reputation, if she could be induced to abandon Bothwell. On his way through London at the end of July, Murray saw the Spanish Ambassador, and de Silva, who had the fullest confidence in Murray's in tegrity, gave the following account to Philip of the conversation which had passed between them : — ' Se vino a declarer mas, diciendo me que por la voluntad que le habia mostrado, me queria decir lo que no habia querido communicar a esta Reyna, aunque ella le habia dado algunas puntadas en ello, pero de lejos. Era que el tenia por gran difticultad que se pudiese concertar este negocio, porque era cierto que la Reyna habia sabidora de la muerte de su marido ; de que el estaba muy penado ; y que se habia sabido sin duda por una carta de la Reyna scripta a Bothwell, demas de tres pliegos de papel, toda en su pro pria mano y firmada de su nombre. En la qual escribia en sustancia que no tardase en poner en execution lo que tenian ordinado, porque su ma rido le decia tantas buenas palabras por engafiarle y traerle a, su voluntad, que podria ser que la moviese a ello ; sino se haria lo demas con presteza, y que ella misma iria a traerle, y vendrian a una casa en el camino, a, donde procuraria se le diese algun bevediza ; y que si esto no pudiese hacerse le pondria en la casa a donde estaba ordenado lo del fuego para la noche que se habia de casar un criado suyo, como se hizo. Y que el se procurase de desembaracar de su muger, apartandose della 6 dandole alguna bebida con que muriese, pues sabia que ella por el se habia puesto en aventura de perder su honra y Reyno y lq que tenia en Francia y a Dios, contentandose con su sola per sona. Y que demas desto, habia hecho otro estrano y no visto trato la noche de la muerte que habia sido el dar una sortiza a, su marido, ha- biendole hecho muchos amores y regalos teniendole tratado la muerte, que habia sido aun peor que lo* demas que se diria ; y que lo de la carta lo sabia de quien le habia visto y leydo ; y lo demas era notorio, de que el estaba lastimadissimo por el honor de la casa de su padre.' — De Silva to Philip, August 2. MSS. Simancas. 120 History of England. ChapXIV of the other party. As the best hope of a peaceful 1567 solution of the difficulties in which they found them- July selves, the Confederates invited these noblemen to join them at Edinburgh in a General Convention. The request was declined, but not so declined as to leave no hope that it might be accepted on certain conditions. It was understood that the support of the Hamiltons would be given freely to the party who had imprisoned the Queen, if the succession to the Regency were deter mined in their favour. Such was the condition of parties, humours, and dis positions in Scotland which Elizabeth had sent Throg morton to command and control. Some intelligent intimation of the confusion which he was to find there had been already sent to Cecilby Maitland. It was important to make England feel that France was ready and willing to take the Lords under its protection on the Lords' own terms. To himself, Mait land said, the English alliance had always appeared most beneficial to Scotland, and he preferred even in the present, emergency to work in harmony with the English Court. M. de Villeroy, however, had come over with such warm and liberal offers from the King of France, that if Ehzabeth refused to support them, if Elizabeth interfered between them and the Queen, they would be compelled to close with the French proposals. De Villeroy would otherwise throw himself upon the Hamiltons, and there would be a civil war.1 Throgmorton had started before Maitland's letter arrived, but it produced no effect upon Elizabeth. She had provided means, as she supposed, to parry the danger 1 Maitland to Cecil, July i.—MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 121 from France; for if the Confederate Lords refused to Chap xiv release Mary Stuart, Throgmorton, too, was directed to 1567 address himself to the Hamiltons. The threatened civil u y war was not, in Elizabeth's opinion, too dear a price for her cousin's liberty. She was prepared to take part with the pretensions of the family who had been the unvarying opponents of England, if they on their side would join with her in the procuring the release of the Queen, and Charles might support, if he pleased, the Protestant noblemen in oppressing his own kinswoman. In the hope that if she had time to think Elizabeth would not persist in so extraordinary a policy, Throg morton lingered on the road. He stopped at Gorham- bury to talk to Bacon ; he was ten days in reaching Berwick ; while Elizabeth was counting the hours which would have to pass before he could reach Edinburgh, and sent message after message to him to make haste. Bacon, Cecil, and Leicester ahke deplored the deter mination into which she had settled herself; the highest interests of England were being sacrificed; but their opinions and their remonstrances were alike disregarded. Leicester had to tell Throgmorton, in a passage which he underlined, ' that he did not see any possibility that the Queen's Majesty could be won to deal as she should or would do," if the Queen of Scots were not in personal danger ; ' 1 and Throgmorton, on whom the truth of the situation forced itself more and more clearly as he approached Scotland, could but reply, ' that he was very sorry that the Queen's Majesty's disposition altered not towards the Lords ; for, when all was done, it was they which would stand her in more stead than the Queen her cousin, and would be better instruments to work 1 Leicester to Throgmorton, July 8.— Conway MSS. 122 History of England. hap xiv some benefit and quiet to her Majesty and the realm i567 than the Queen of Scotland, who was void of good July fame.' 1 Thus reluctantly he was driven forward on his un promising mission. He had left London on the 1st of July ; on the 1 2th he was at Fast Castle, where Mait land and Hume met him, and confirmed his misgivings of the probable effect of his message. They said, briefly, that they had no kind of trust in Elizabeth. In all her transactions with them she had considered no interests but her own. She was still playing her old game ; and if they ' ran her fortune,' and allowed her to direct them in their present condition, they well knew ' she would leave them in the briars.' Throgmorton spoke of the siege of Leith. They replied that in expelling the French she had been consulting her own safety, not theirs ; ' and upon other accidents which had chanced since, they had observed such things in her Majesty's doings as had tended to the danger of such as she had dealt withal, to the overthrow of her own designments, and little to the satisfaction of any party.' As to her present message, Maitland said, with a smile, that she had better leave them to themselves. The French ' were ready to deliver them of their Queen for ever, to end her life in France, in an abbey reclused;' the French would protect the Prince, and protect the Confederate Noble men from Elizabeth, or from anyone ; and they them selves intended either to close with their proposals, or else ' do what they thought meet for their state and country, and Use their remedies as occasion should move them.' Throgmorton asked whether he could see the Queen. They replied that it was highly unlikely. 1 Throgmorton to Cecil, July n. — Conway MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 123 The French Ambassador had been refused, and they ChapXiv would not offend their friends in Paris, by showing 1567 favours to the minister of Elizabeth which had been July withheld from du Croc, unless Elizabeth would pay a higher price for their preference than she seemed in clined to offer. As to setting the Queen at liberty, ' it was but folly' to speak of such a thing. If the Queen of England insisted upon this, it could only be because ' she meant their undoing.' l At Edinburgh Sir Nicholas found the same humour, or a humour, if possible, more unfavourable to England. He did not think Mary Stuart to be in present personal danger. She was closely guarded, but her health was reported to be good ; and, so far as he could learn, there appeared to be no intention either of publishing her guilt or of touching her life. She might be released, he was told, if she would make up her mind to give up Both- well ; but she continued obstinate ; ' she avowed con stantly that she would live and die with him;' 'if it were put to her choice whether she would relinquish crown and kingdom or the Lord Bothwell, she would rather leave her kingdom and dignity to live as a simple damsel with him ; and she would never consent that he should fare worse or have more harm than herself 2 So long as this mood continued, neither the per suasions nor threats of England should unlock the gates of Lochleven Castle. But, so far as Throgmorton could learn, the purpose of the Confederate Noblemen ended in her confinement, and if they were left to themselves they did not mean to hurt her. The Clergy and Commons, however, were in a less gentle temper. The General Assembly had been pro- 1 Throgmorton to Cecil, July 12. 2 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, July —Conway MSS. i^.—MSS. Scotland. 124 History of England. Chap xiv rogued after a short session, but was to reopen on the i567 20th of July. It was understood that Mary Stuart's July deposition, if not her death, would then be fiercely demanded; and 'the chiefest of the Lords durst not show her as much lenity as they would,' in fear of the people. ' The women were most furious and impudent against her ; yet the men were mad enough.' And the Queen's peril was aggravated by the pecuhar infamy of the Hamiltons, who in form and outwardly were pretending to be on her side ; but rather ' be cause they would have the Lords destroy her, in fear that otherwise she might be recovered from them by violence.' The Queen once dead, the only considerable . obstacle would be removed which stood between them and the crown.1 Treachery so profound might have seemed incredible ; but it was in harmony with all their previous conduct, and it was brought to a point and openly avowed immediately after. The danger was greater and more immediate than Throgmorton supposed. The mission and message of de Villeroy had conclusively satisfied the Confederates that they had nothing to fear from France. He had told them, that if the Queen were sent to Paris, she would be taken care of there, and should trouble them no further ; and they would at once have closed with his terms, but for the reflection that ' time would help to cancel her disgrace;' and that ' she might be an instrument at some future time to work new un quietness.' De Villeroy carried back their refusal ; but no resentment followed, and no change of tone. Catherine de Medici, so far from taking offence, sent a second minister, M. de Lig- nerolles, a gentleman of her household, with a mission 1 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, July 14.— MSS. Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 125 precisely similar. De LigneroUes was ordered to recon- Chap xiv cile the Hamiltons and the Confederate Noblemen; to i567 do something for the Queen, if possible, but chiefly and J"ly especially to draw Scotland nearer to France ; to assure all parties that France desired merely the wellbeing of their country, and was ready to support them in any measure which they considered necessary. In other words, that they might do what they pleased, provided they would renounce England, and reattach themselves to their old allies.1 Thus, day after day, it grew more likely that the Lords would take the brief sure way with Mary Stuart, and the tone taken by Elizabeth only increased her danger. Throgmorton had not been idle. He had found means to communicate with her. He had urged her to consent to the single condition under which he could hope to interfere for her successfully, but he found her as obstinate as others had found her. ' She would by no means yield to abandon Bothwell as her husband, but would rather die.' She believed, or affected to believe, that she was with child; but a situation which suspends the execution of an ordinary criminal, only tended to precipitate the fate of the Queen of Scotland, and the prospect of issue from so detestable a mar riage 'hardened the Lords to greater severity against her.' Both John Knox and his fellow-minister Craig agreed in advocating the execution. ' They were furnished with many arguments, some from Scripture, some from • histories, some grounded, as they said, upon the laws of the realm.' — ' The Commons convened at the As sembly did mind manifestly the Queen's destruction ; ' Instructions to M, de LigneroUes. — Tettlet, vol. ii. 126 History of England. Chap xiv and ' it was a public speech among all people, and 1567 among all estates, that the Queen had no more liberty ny to commit murder nor adultery than any other private person.' x The unhappy woman, alarmed at last at the fate which appeared so near her, made an effort to save herself. Subdued, or half subdued, and obstinate only in her love for Bothwell, she begged that they would remember, at least, that she was her father's daughter, and their Prince's mother. If it would save her life, she said that she would make over the government either to her brother or to a Council of the Lords? or to any person or persons they might be pleased to name. But it was not likely to avail her. ' The preachers were of one mind ' that she should be put to death. The more moderate among the noblemen ' durst not speak for her, to avoid the fury of the people.' Murray himself, detained at Paris, sent over his friend Mr. El- phinstone to intercede, but seemingly without effect. ' The people were greatly animated against her.' The Confederates ' were too far over the stream to leave themselves unprovided for : ' and ' the common voice declared, that it should not he in the power of any within the realm, or without, to keep her from condign punishment for her notorious crimes.' 2 Unhappily, the hands which would have executed this high act of justice were themselves impure. Those who talked the loudest of the guilt of murder, had felt no horror at the murder of Rizzio; and even with Knox himself, and with his iron-hearted congregation, the rage 1 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, July 18. Throgmorton to Cecil, July 16, July 18. — MSS. Scotland. * Ibid. The Reign of Elizabeth. 127 against the Queen was but partly due to her moral Chap xiv iniquities. They, too, were men of no very tender I567 nerves; and had Darnley proved the useful Catholic Ju,y which the Queen intended him to be, they would have sent him to his account with as small compunction as Jael sent the Canaanite captain, or they would have blessed the arm that did it with as much eloquence as Deborah. i So far as Throgmorton could judge, there were four possibilities. Maitland, who had the merit of remem bering his own share in Darnley's death, proposed that the Queen should be released and restored to a titular sovereignty. The power could be vested wholly in a Council, and her hands tied so that she could do no harm. Legal securities could be taken for the estab lishment of the Protestant religion ; the Prince could be conveyed to some safe place, either France or England, as convenience might dictate; and Bothwell be taken, divorced, and executed. Morton and Athol preferred shaking off the Queen, and making arrangements for her confinement for life in England, if Elizabeth would consent to take charge of her. The Prince should be crowned, and Scotland governed by the Lords. But neither of these opinions found general favour. The mass of the people, ignorant of the secret history of the murder, insisted that the Queen should be pub licly tried, and if found guilty should either remain a prisoner among themselves, where she could give no more trouble, or else be put to death. Of these last alternatives the second was most likely to be preferred, 'for they dreaded mutation among themselves, the commiseration of foreign Princes, and likewise that in time the Scots themselves would have 128 History of England. ChapXiv compassion for her.' Throgmorton interceded, argued, 1567 protested. Subjects, he said, could not sit in judgment u y on their sovereign. If they executed her, ' they would wipe away her infamy,' and ' turn upon themselves the indignation of the world.' But the fierce rhetoric of Knox, with the bloody annals of the chosen people for his text, tore to shreds these feeble considerations. The English minister was told that 'in extraordinary enormities and monstrous doings there had been and must be extraordinary proceedings. New offences did in all States occasion new laws and new punishments.' ' Surely,' said Maitland to him with bitter truth, ' the Queen of England has taken an ill way to have us at her devotion. The Earl of Murray found cold relief and small favour at her hand, and now she has sent here to procure our Queen's liberty. I would I had been banished my country for seven years on condition the Queen your mistress had dealt liberally and friendly with us. However the case fall out we shall find little favour at her hands more than fair words.'1 ' I pray you advise,' Throgmorton privately wrote to Cecil, ' I pray you advise what is best ; and so as the Queen being dead either in body or estate, this Prince and country come not in the French devotion to one camp. If her Majesty do not in time win, these Lords and recover her erased credit among them before they have ended these matters without her advice, I see they will take a course little to our advantao-e.' 2 It seemed as if, overborne by the storm, and by the hopelessness of the situation, the English Ambassador now gave up the Queen for lost, and was turning his thoughts and his efforts to preserving the alliance 1 Throgmorton to Cecil, July 19. 2 Throgmorton to Cecil, July 19. —Keith. — MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 129 between England and Scotland. Even this would be Chap xiv no easy matter, so exasperated were the Scots at the ,S67 tone which Elizabeth had assumed to them. ' II perde July le jeu qui laisse la partie,' said Maitland to him in another conversation: 'to my great grief I speak it, the Queen my Sovereign may not be abydin among us, and this is no time to do her good if she be ordained to have any. Therefore take heed that the Queen your mistress do not lose the goodwill of this company irreparably. I assure you if the Queen's Majesty deal not otherwise than she doth you will lose all, and it shall not lie in the power of your wellwillers to help it no more than it doth in our power now to help the Queen our Sovereign.'1 Mary Stuart's sun was now at the point of setting. The people well knew her nature, and among the pas sions which were distracting them, the fear which is the mother of cruelty was not the least powerful. In their eyes the gentle sufferer of modern sentinientalism was a trapped wild cat, who if the cage was opened would fix claw and fang into their throats. On the 2 ist of July, at a meeting of the Council,, the milder propositions of Maitland and Morton were definitively set aside. It was resolved to proceed immediately with the coronation of the Prince. If the Queen consented — as when she first knew the extent of her danger she had promised to do — her life would be spared, and her letters and the other evidences of her ' infamy ' would be withheld from public knowledge. If she refused, the truth in all its deformity would be laid before the world. In some form or other she would be 1 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, July 21. — MSS. Scotland. %TZL. HI. K 130 History of England. Chap xiv brought to trial and as certainly condemned. Under i567 no circumstances should she leave the realm ; and 3uly ' having gone so far,' ' they would not think to find any safety so long as she was alive.' Mary Stuart herself looked for nothing but extremity. From a loophole in the round tower which was her prison in an angle of Lochleven Castle, she called to a child who was allowed to wander on the island, and bade him ' tell her friends to pray to God for her soul — her body was now worth but little.'2 John Knox, who, in theological language, expressed the conclusions of keen cool political sagacity, 'did con tinue his severe exhortations against her, threatening the great plagues of God to the whole country and nation if she was spared from condign punishment.' 2 Elizabeth's behaviour at this crisis was more credit able to her heart than to her understanding. She had only to remain neutral, and she would be delivered for ever from the rival who had troubled her peace from the hour of her accession, and while she hved would never cease to trouble her. There was no occasion for her to commit herself by upholding insur rection. The Scots were no subjects of hers, and she was not answerable for their conduct. The crime of Mary Stuart's execution — if crime it would be would be theirs not hers ; and if she did not interfere to pre vent or revenge it, the ultimate effect would inevitably 1 The Spanish Ambassador heard nos avisos, y le habia dicho que this from Elizabeth: — 'La Reyna me dixese a sus amigos que rogasen a habiadicho que despues que la habian Dios por el alma, que el cuerpo valia puesto en la torre con tanta estre- poco.' — De Silva al Rey Julio 26. cheza y poca compania, que habia MSS. Simaneas. visto por una ventanillaunmuchacho 2 Throgmorton to Elizabeth July que por ser de poca edad las guardas 21. — MSS. Scotland. no tenian cuenta, y solia darle algu- The Reign of Elizabeth. 131 be to draw the bands closer between Scotland and Eng- Chap xiv land. Yet she forgot her obvious interest; and her 1567 affection and her artifices vanished in resentment and pity. Her indignation as a sovereign was even iess than her sorrow for a suffering sister. She did not hide from herself the Queen of Scots' faults — but she did not believe in the extent of them ; they seemed as nothing beside the magnitude of her calamities, and she was prepared to encounter the worst political consequences rather than stand by and see her sacrificed. ' You may assure those Lords,' she wrote in answer to Throgmorton's last letters, ' that we do detest and ' abhor the murder committed upon our cousin the ' King; but the head cannot be subject to the foot, ' and we cannot recognise in them any right to call ' their Sovereign to account. You shall plainly tell them ' that if they determine anything to the deprivation of ' the Queen their Sovereign, we are well assured of our ' own determination that we will make ourselves a plain ' party against them to the revenge of their Sovereign ' for all posterity. As to the French aUiance, it will ' orieve them in the end as much as it will injure ' England ; and yet were it otherwise, we cannot, nor ' will for our particular profit at this time, be induced to ' consent to that which we cannot in conscience like or ' allow, but shall remit the consequences thereof to the ' goodwill and favour of Almighty God, at whose hands ' we have found no lack in the doing or omitting any- ' thing whereunto our conscience has induced us.'1 So she wrote to Scotland; and the Spanish Ambassador, who was suspicious enough generally of her motives, was satisfied that she meant what she said. If the Lords » Elizabeth to Throgmorton, July 27.— MSS. Scotland. k 2 132 History of England. Chap xiv persevered, she told him, she would call on France to i567 join with her in punishing them; if France refused, and gave them countenance, she would invite Philip to hold France in check, while she herself sent an English army to Scotland to set the Queen at liberty and replace her on her throne.1 Yet she felt that her menaces might miss their effect, nay, perhaps, might produce, if she attempted to act upon them, the very thing which she most dreaded. She might revenge Mary Stuart's death, but she would not prevent the Lords from killing her if she provoked them to extremities. And again, when it came to the point, the sending troops to . Scotland on such an errand, against the opmion of half her Council, might involve an English revolution. Violently as she was affected, she could not hide the truth from herself, and, therefore, for the imme diate purpose — saving Mary Stuart's life — she looked with much anxiety to the return of the Earl of Murray from France. On Murray's regard for his sister, and on Murray's power to protect her, she be lieved that she could rely. On his passage through London in April, whatever might have been his secret thoughts, he had breathed no word of blame against her. He had mentioned to de Silva the reports which were current in Scotland, but he had expressly said that he did not believe them. To Elizabeth ' he never spoke one dishonourable word of her ; ' and in Elizabeth's opinion he ' was so far from the consent of any con federacy against her, that she was certainly persuaded her sister had not so honourable and true a servant in Scotland.'2 De Silva excepted him by name to 1 Elizabeth to de Silva, July *9 2 Heneageto Cecil, Julys —MSS -MSS. Simaneas. cotl and. So Leicester, writing to' The Reign of Elizabeth. 133 Philip as the one Scottish nobleman whose behaviour Chap xiv in all the transactions which had followed the murder i567 had been irreproachable.1 He had found no httle difficulty in escaping from France. Catherine, who eight years before had tried to gain him, now renewed her overtures with increased earnestness, as more and more she knew that he was the only man whose integrity could be relied on, and who, as she hoped, had been divorced from his English sym pathies by Elizabeth's ill usage of him. She offered him rank, pension, power, the Scotch Regency, even the Scotch Crown she would have offered him, if he would lend himself to French interests. He had answered simply that he could agree to nothing prejudicial to his sister and to his nephew. If the French Court would assist in saving the Queen he would be grateful for their help,2 but he declined accepting power for himself. His personal injuries had not blinded him to the advantages of the English alliance to Scotland, and he met Cathe rine's advances so coldly that she invented pretences to detain him in Paris. She complained that ' he had a right Enghsh heart.'3 She found him entirely unwill- Throgmorton, says, ' I have thought do so. But as I have always thought, good to require youif yepossibly may so do I now verily believe, my Lord tolet that Queen understand, aslbear of Murray will show himself a most faith to God and my Prince, I never faithful servant and subject to her heard directly or indirectly any un- Majesty to adventure his life for her.' reverend word from my Lord of — Leicester to Throgmorton, July 8. Murray's mouth towards the Queen Conway MSS. his Sovereign— but as dutifully and ] De Silva to Philip, July.— MSS. honourably as the best affected sub- Simancas. jectin the world ought and should 2 Alava to Philip, July 13.— speak of their Prince — which my Tetjlet, vol. v. testimony I would not give to abuse 3 Sir H. Norris to Cecil, July 23. any one ; neither is there any cause — MSS. France. specially at this time that I should 134 History of England. ChapXiv ing to lend himself to the evil game which she was ~7&~ Paying. At last ' by his discreet and wise answers he rid him self out of her hands,'1 and made his way to the sea. Still afraid of what might befall him, he durst .not ven ture to cross the Channel in a French vessel, but had sent beforehand to Rye for an English fishing-boat.2 Once in England, his object was to reach his own country with the least possible delay. He had formed no settled plan. He knew at last the full magnitude of his sister's guilt, for though he had not seen her letters to Bothwell, he had received an accurate description of the worst of, them; yet he was determined to do his best for her, and, at the same time, to prevent his friends from break ing with England. It was necessary for him to pass again through London. Ehzabeth sent for him, and spoke to him in a style which, had he been capable of resentment, might have tempted him to reconsider his intentions. He was obhged to tell her that his country had claims upon him, prior either to his sister's or her own.3 1 Sir H. Norris to Cecil, July 23. not an Englishman, then to haste — MSS.- France. over to Rye to provide him with all 2 'The Earl of Murray finding him- diligence: where I am arrived this self in some discontentment by his afternoon ; and mean as soon as wind long delay of the French King, as and tide serve, God willing, to repair also in hazard of detaining by force, towards Dieppe again, where a mes- beside peril of his person by such as senger attends my arrival to give have grudged much his affection to- knowledge to my Lord of Murray at wards England, required my lord the Court, whereby he may under my master (Sir H. Norris) to assist assurance of this vessel determine him by some policy to escape se- and adventure his purpose.' — Thomas cretly out of France ; whereupon I Jenyr to Cecil, July 13. — MSS. was despatched towards Dieppe to France. stay some English bark under some 3 ' Notwithstanding so many prac- colour— for my Lord of Murray will tices, the Earl of Murray will con- pass in no Frenchman — and if I find tinue a' good Scotsman. The hard The Reign of Elizabeth. 135 He had again a long conversation with de Silva, and Chap xiv spoke more openly to him than he had cared to do to 1567 the Queen. De Silva expressed a hope that something might be done with his sister short of dethronement — something like that which had been proposed by Mait land, and accompanied with proper securities against further mischief from her. Murray required no press ing. Could Bothwell be caught and hanged, he thought such an arrangement not entirely out of the question, and both he and his friends would not, if they could help it, offend Elizabeth. De Silva, who understood thoroughly the entire truth, scarcely offered to advise under circumstances so extraordinary. Murray, hoAV- ever, he said might do what no one else could do. The Lords would trust him as their friend, and the Queen as her brother. Murray answered that as de Silva had spoken so reasonably, he would be entirely frank with him. The difficulty of an arrangement had been infinitely increased by the discovery of the Queen's letters to Bothwell. They had revealed (and he related the substance of one of them) the most profound and horrible treachery. She had brought dishonour upon his father's house, and had made her restoration all but impossible. Her life, however, he had good hopes that he could save.1 He impressed de Silva with the very highest opinion of his character, and he impressed no less favourably such of Elizabeth's Ministers as spoke with him. Sir Walter Mildmay, with whom he spent a night on his way down to Scotland, found him ' very wise and still speeches used by her Majesty to him der MSS. hath somewhat drawn him from the 1 De Silva to Philip, August 2.— affection he was of to this realm.' — MSS. Simancas. Bedford to Cecil, August 10. — Bor- 136 History of England. 1567 August ChapXiv very well . affected to the maintenance of friendship between the two realms ; ' ' content to forget his own particular griefs,' and shrinking only from the respon sibilities which were waiting for him.1 Bedford, whom he saw at Berwick, found him ' neither over pitiful nor over cruel;? inclined, at all events, to prevent the Queen from being put to death, but refusing to commit himself further — much, in fact, in Bedford's own humour, and such as Bedford wholly approved.2 Meantime events in Scotland had been moving with accelerating speed. Each post which came in from England brought fiercer threats from "Elizabeth, which all the warnings of her Council could not prevent her from sending. It might have been almost supposed 1 Sir Walter Mildmay to Cecil, August 4. — Domestic MSS., Rolls House. " Bedford had formed a strong opmion as to the impolicy of Eliza beth's attitude. She had herself written to explain her views to him. 'Although,' she said, 'apparent ar guments may be made that the neg lecting of that Queen's estate in this her captivity, by supporting of the others, might tend greatly to our particular profit and surety — yet finding the same not agreeable to our princely honour, nor the satis faction of our conscience, we cannot agree to certain demands made to us for the contrary, whereof we have thought good to let you understand our meaning.' — Elizabeth to the Earl of Bedford, July 20. Bedford, commenting to Cecil on this letter, says : ' Those that serve must be directed always, though oftentimes it be to their great grief, to put in execution all that they be commanded. I am sorry to see that her Majesty is no better affected to the Lords in Scotland. How much it shall stand us in stead to embrace their gentle offers and good wills, will one day appear.' — Bedford to Cecil, July 2; and August 1. Bor der MSS. Sir Walter Mildmay, writing also to Cecil on the same subject, says: ' The matters in Scotland are come to a far other conclusion than as I per ceived by your first was -looked for here ; but surely to none other than was like to follow, the case itself! and the proceedings considered. A marvellous tragedy, if a man repeat it from the beginning, showing the issue of such as live not in the fear of God.' — Mildmay to Cecil, August 4. Domestic MSS. To Mildmay also it seemed false wisdom to attempt to arrest or change the natural retribution for crime. The Reign of Elizabeth. 137 that with refined ingenuity she was choosing the means Chap xiv most likely to bring about the catastrophe which she i567 most affected to dread.1 AuB^st The letters from Edinburgh were all to the same purpose, that the louder Elizabeth menaced the more obstinate became the Lords. They would tolerate no interference between themselves and the imprisoned Queen. It was a Scottish question, which Scots and Scots alone should deal with. They would send the little James to be educated in England — but on one condition only. ' Let your Queen,' said Maitland to the Enghsh Am bassador, ' exalt our Prince to the succession of the crown of England, for fault of issue of her Majesty's body. That taking place, he shall be as dear to the people of England as to the people of Scotland, and the one will be as careful for his preservation as the other. Otherwise it will be reported that the Scot- tishmen have put their Prince to be kept in safety as those who commit the sheep to be kept by the wolves.'2 On the 24th of July a full meeting of the Council was held in the Tolbooth. Throgmorton, compelled to obey the instructions which he received from home, demanded audience, and in his mistress's name re quired them formally to release their Queen. Without 1 'Her Majesty remains in her come to pass of all other things is first opinion ; we have shown her by this her manner of dealing most that if the Lords are left out of hope likely to be brought to pass the of her Majesty, it will not only be a sooner against her. She answers means of the greatest extremity to still she will not comfort subjects that Queen, but also a perpetual los3 against their Prince.' — Leicester to of those which neither she, nor hers, Throgmorton, July 22. Conway are like to recover again. It is MSS. showed her further, that the thing 2 Throgmorton -to Leicester, July which she would fainest should not z6.-r-MSS. Scotland, 138 History of England. Chap xiv condescending to notice his request, they also commu- ,567 nicated formally the decision at which they had them- Jdy selves arrived. ' In consideration of the Queen's misbehaviour,' her public misgovernment, and her private and personal enor mities, ' they could not permit her any longer to put the realm in peril by her disorders.' If she would resign the crown, ' they would endeavour to preserve both her life and honour, both which otherwise stood in great danger.' If she refused, the Prince would be crowned, and she herself, in compliance with the demand of the General Assembly, would be placed on her trial for her husband's murder, and for other crimes.1 She would be indicted on three several counts : — ' the breach of the laws of the realm,' the statute of rehgion of 1560, which had been passed in her absence and which she had never yet ratified, but which, nevertheless, they assumed to be binding upon her ; ' incontinency with Bothwell as with others, having sufficient evidence against her ' in each particular case; and thirdly, the murder, in which ' they said they had as apparent proof against her as might be, as well by the testimony of her own handwriting which they had recovered, as also by sufficient witnesses.' ' Jus gentium ' as well as precedent, there might perhaps be for the essentials of this proceeding. The doctrine of the responsibility of princes to their subjects had been preached thirty years before by Reginald Pole, when the Catholics were at issue with 1 'The General Assembly hath realm, and according to the law made request that the murder of the which they call Jus Gentium, with- late King may be severely punished, out respect of any person.' — Throg- according to the Law of God, ac- mortem to Elizabeth, July 25. CoN- cording to the practice of their own way MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 139 Henry VIII.; but kings and queens, when they had Chap xiv committed crimes, had been brought to justice so far by 1567 the wild method of assassination, and the establishment u y *4 of a formal court in which a prince regnant could be indicted, was a new feature in European history. The messenger chosen to carry to Lochleven the intimation of the Council's intentions was the rugged Lindsay, the man of few words, who would have fought Bothwell at Carberry, and whom Mary Stuart had sworn to hang. Ruthven went with him, son of the hard Earl who had been the first to seize Rizzio in her cabinet, and Robert Melville the diplomatist. These three represented the three parties into which the Lords were divided. Lindsay was the mouthpiece of the fiery zealots of the Assembly ; Ruthven belonged to the more moderate faction of Morton and Mar ; while Melville, as the secret agent of Maitland and Throgmorton, carried a note from the latter concealed in the scabbard of his sword, ad vising Mary to comply with any demand which should be presented to her, and assuring her that no act which she might do under such compulsion could prejudice her rights. Short time was allowed her for reflection. The same morning on which the Council communicated their purpose to the English Minister, Lindsay repaired to Lochleven. Persuasion was to be tried first, and Melville was admitted alone to the Queen's presence. He found her still unbroken — at times desponding, at times, ' speaking as stout words as ever she did.'1 Having an unexpected opportunity of speaking privately to her, he gave her Throgmorton's message, and added another directly from Elizabeth, with which he had been charged Bedford to Cecil, August 10.— -Border MSS. 140 History of England. Chap xiv also, if he was able to give it ; that ' at all times "1567 sne might count upon a sure friend in the Queen of My 24 England.' These fatal words — the prime cause of Elizabeth's long troubles in after years — ' were no small comfort to her in her grief 1 She said she would rather be in England under Elizabeth's protection, ' than obliged to any prince in Christendom.' Her -proud blood boiled at the indignities which were thrust upon her, and in her first passion she fought fiercely against all that Melville could urge. But his arguments, coupled with the dreadful recollection of the Sunday night which followed her capture at Carberry, told at last upon her. The Council had sent three instruments for her signa ture — one her own abdication ; another naming the Earl of Murray Regent, or, if Murray should refuse the offer, vesting the government in a Council; a third empowering Lindsay and the Earl of Mar and Morton to proceed to the coronation of her son. It has been said, that when the papers were laid before her and she hesitated to sign them, Lindsay clutched her arm and left the print of his gauntleted hand upon the flesh ; that having immediate death before her if she refused, she wrote her name at last with a scornful allusion to his brutality, and a contemptuous intimation of the worth- lessness of concessions so extorted. The story rests on faint authority. If the Queen of Scots had hinted that she would not consider herself bound by the act to which she was setting her hand, her life would unques tionably have been forfeited; and however violent the intentions of Lindsay's party, it appears certain that Sir R. Melville to Elizabeth, July 29.— MSS. Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 141 she was not informed that her hfe was in immediate Chap xiv danger.1 ,567 However it was — whether in fear, or, as is far more Jllly zs likely, relying secretly on the assurance that an abdica tion obtained from her in her present condition would have no legal vahdity — she signed the papers, and Lind say returned the same night with them to Edinburgh. Yet her peril was scarcely diminished. The instruments for the coronation of the Prince, it was understood, would be immediately acted on. Conscious of the effect which such an act would produce on Elizabeth, Throgmorton interceded with Maitland at least for a few days' delay. Maitland said that for himself he wished what the Queen of England wished ; but ' he was in place to know more than Throgmorton knew,' and if Throgmorton meddled or used ' threatening speech,' it would be the Queen's death-warrant. He could only intreat him, if he valued her preservation, to be silent. On the afternoon of the 25th the English ambassador was conducted again to the Tolbooth. There stood or sate before him that stern body of fierce men — some who, in the fervour of godliness, had made the Scottish Reformation — some, the most of them, who had played with it for mere worldly pur poses, but had all united on the purpose which they had then in hand. There they were, earls, barons, lords, 1 Thefollowingmutilated fragment the Queen my Sovereign hath great of a note addressed to her by Throg- .... your good, and relieve you of morton remains in the Rolls House. your calamity and peril, which I find It is dated the 28th of July, four greater than my Sovereign days after her abdication : — doth suspect. It behoveth ..... 'Madam, I have received your somewhat to eschew the personal memoir. I cannot obtain danger towards you, which is much lords to have access to your Majesty: greater than your Majesty doth un- and nevertheless . . . assure yourself derstand.' 142 History of England. ChapXIV and gentlemen, in armour every one, with their long I567 boots and long steel spurs, ready to mount and ride. Jlllya5 He was told briefly that the Queen had resigned, that they were going forthwith to Stirling to crown the Prince, and he was invited to accompany them. Notwithstanding Maitland's caution, he dared not be silent. Solemnly, in the name of his mistress, he pro tested against an act which would bring down upon them the indignation of Europe. In his own person he pleaded with such of them as he privately knew or could hope to influence. At least he urged them to wait for the return of Murray; and as to the coronation, he declared, that he neither might nor would ' be present at any such doings.' They were prepared for his remonstrances, and pre pared to defy them. The lords who sate in front said briefly that they must do their duty ; the realm could not be left without a prince, and the government would be administered for the future 'by the wisest of the nobility.' A loud cry rose from the crowd of gentle men who stood behind, that ' the realm could not be governed worse than it had been ; the Queen was advised by the worst Council or no Council.' The Lords rose : ' My Lord,' they said, ' we will trouble you no further ; the day passeth away, and we have far to ride.' Their horses were before the gate; they mounted, and the iron cavalcade streamed away across the Grassmarket. Three days later, so far as subjects could make or unmake their sovereign, the reign of James VI. had commenced. Throgmorton could only write to request his recall. He dreaded now that Elizabeth would reply to so daring a contempt of her commands by some open act of hos tility ; and that, whatever else might come of it, Mary The Reign of Elizabeth. 143 Stuart's doom would then be sealed. ' As the case Chap xiv stands with this miserable Queen,' he wrote the morning 1567 after the Lords' departure, ' it shall be to little purpose "ruly 2S to me to have access to her, or to treat with her accord ing to my instructions. It is to be feared that this tragedy will end in the Queen's person after this corona tion, as it did begin in the person of David the Italian and the Queen's husband.' x Yet Throgmorton's efforts had not been wholly thrown away : Mary Stuart's throne was lost irrecoverably, and her hfe was hanging by a thread ; but both her life and the exposure and infamy which would accompany her pubhc trial might yet be prevented, if Elizabeth could only be kept quiet. To this Mary Stuart's best friends in Scotland, and Elizabeth's wisest Ministers at home, had now to address themselves. Sir Robert Melville wrote directly to the Queen of England: — 'What may yet fall out to the worst,' he said, 'I am in great doubt. Your Majesty may be ' remembered that at my last being with your Highness 'I feared this extremity, and could give no better ' advice for my Sovereign's weal than by gentle dealing ' with these Lords, in whose hands lies both to save and ' to spill. The greater number be so bent on rigour 'against my mistress, that extremes had been used if ' your Highness's Ambassador had not been present, who ' did so utter both his wisdom and affection to her ' Majesty, that he only did put aside the present incon- ' venience, and did so procure the matter as both life and ' honour have been preserved.' 2 Preserved they were for the moment ; but with the first move of an English soldier towards Scotland — with 1 Throgmorton to Cecil, July 26. 2 Sir R. Melville to Elizabeth, — MSS. Scotland. July 29.— MSS. Scotland, 144 History of England. ChapXiv the first symptoms of an active intention to restore '7&~ Mary Stuart to her throne by force — it was equally ^gust certain that they wouid not be preserved. The Lords would not expose themselves to the risk of any such contingency. Throgmorton, not daring to address his mistress herself, apphed himself to Leicester. ' He could but deplore,' he said, 'the dangerous discommo- dious opinion ' in which her Majesty had fixed herself; an opinion which would be at once politically ruinous to England, and fatal to Mary Stuart herself. ' Whether it was fear, fury, or zeal which had carried the Lords so far,' he could not tell, but this he 'could boldly affirm, ' that nothing would so soon hasten her death as the doubt that the Lords might conceive of her redemp tion to hberty and authority by the Queen's Majesty's aid.'1 In England, though with extreme difficulty and with but limited means, the Council were labouring to the same purpose. Ehzabeth for a time seems to have been utterly ungovernable. Her imagination had painted a scheme in which she was to appear as a beneficent fairy coming out of the clouds to rescue an erring but un happy sister, and restore her to her estate, with a whole some lecture on her past misconduct. It was an attitude pleasing to her fancy and gratifying to her pride, and all was shattered to the ground. Throgmorton no longer even wished to see Mary Stuart. To read to her Eliza beth's admonition 'appeared too hard considering her calamity and temptation :' 2 and the proud Queen, who could never realise that the Scots were not her own sub jects, writhed under her defeat. 1 Throgmorton to Leicester, July 31. — MSS. Scotland. 2 Ibid. The Reign of Elizabeth. 1 45 Cecil, who understood his mistress best, ventured ChapXiv only quiet protestations ' when opportunity offered I567 itself,' and modified the violence which he could not August wholly check. Those who were at a distance from the Court were more outspoken. Sir Walter Mildmay ' could not conceive what moved the Queen to strive against the stream, and trouble herself with unnecessary quarrels.' The Earl of Bedford, from Berwick, remon strated on grounds of public morality, and insisted on the practical mischief which was already resulting from it. Bothwell was still at large. The want of settled government in Scotland had let loose the Borderers, who were his sworn friends and allies ; on the 1 5th of July, ' by procurement of the Earl of Bothwell, a thousand horse had crossed the marches and pillaged Northumberland ; ' yet because the Border thieves called themselves the Queen of Scots' friends, Elizabeth had distinctly forbidden the English marchers to retaliate. ' The marchers,' she had told Bedford, ' could not be allowed to redress their own injuries ;' 1 nor would she permit the regular forces at Berwick to redress them either, lest, by the just execution of the Border laws, she should lend even this remote semblance of countenance to the Lords. The wardens all along the line from Carhsle to Berwick had written for instructions in anger and perplexity.2 Never in all recent experience had the Border been in such confusion; yet Elizabeth's displea sure had been reserved for Bedford, whom she accused of having taken part against the Queen of Scots. The 1 Elizabeth to Bedford, July 20. July 13. Bedford to Cecil, July 15. —Border MSS. Bedford to Cecil, July 19.— MSS. 2 Scrope and Sir John Foster to Border. Cecil, July, 1567.' Bedford to Cecil, ELIZ. IIL L 146 History of England. Chap xiv old Earl proudly acknowledged the truth of the charge. ",567 ' Wishing the Lords well,' he said, ' I cannot but say August f j^ j jiave favoure(l them and their actions, because I see that it is good and honourable, and their Queen's doings abominable and to be detested.' x It would have been well if Elizabeth had rested here ; but after her conversation with Murray, and not liking the language in which he replied to her menaces, she ventured upon a step, which, if it had been likely to succeed — as in the end, and when circumstances changed, it succeeded but too fatally — might have created, and was intended to create, a civil war in Scotland. She had directed Throgmorton when she sent him on his commission, if he failed with the Confederate Lords, to address himself to the Hamiltons. She had been warned of the game which the Hamiltons were playing, but she believed that she could tempt them through their ambi tion to declare themselves for the Queen ; and while Throgmorton was busy with the Lords, she attempted through some other agent to work upon their adver saries. Her advances were not successful. ' I understand by a very sure friend,' Bedford wrote to Cecil,' that her Majesty does work with the Hamiltons against the Lords, and that somewhat has been offered to them in that behalf. Her Majesty has spent much money to rid the French out of this country, and this is the next way to bring them in again, and breed her Majesty great disquietness in the end — what else I dare not say. Her Majesty is a wise princess, and you and the rest be wise councillors. As soon as the Hamiltons understood thereof they sent to the Lords and offered the sooner to agree; so that thus little was saved, for 1 Bedford to Throgmorton, August 4. — Conway MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. lii this was the way to have one Scotsman cut another's Chap xiv throat.' x I567 The effect indicated by Bedford was brought more AusilBt plainly before Throgmorton, who himself also knowing what Ehzabeth expected of him, had put out feelers in the same direction.' 2 The Hamiltons, as Bedford truly said, immediately betrayed to the Lords the advances which had been made to them. So wild Elizabeth's movements seemed to both parties, that each assumed she must be influenced by some sinister motive. The Hamiltons imagined that she wished to weaken Scot land by a civil war ; Maitland, who more respected her ability than her principles, suspected her of an insi dious desire to provoke them to make an end of the Queen.' 3 Both concurred in believing that she meant ill to them and to Scotland, and, in consequence, instant and sinister overtures came in from all the noblemen who had hitherto held aloof from the Confederates. The true objects of the Hamiltons, long suspected, now began to 1 Bedford to Cecil, July — , 1567. you that seek to bring her death to — Border MSS. pass, what show soever the Queen 2 On the 6th of August Leicester your mistress and you do make to wrote to him to say that ' her Ma- save her life and set her at liberty. jesty did will that he should make The Hamiltons and you concur to- all search and enquiry to know what gether — you have nothing in your party might be made for the Queen, mouths but liberty, and nothing less whether the house of Hamilton did in your hearts. I have heard what stand for her or no, and that as you have said to me. I assure you much encouragement as was pos- if you should use this speech unto sible might be given to them for them which you do unto me, all the their better maintenance therein.' — world could not save the Queen's Conway MSS. life three days to an end — and as s Throgmorton, after the corona- the case standeth, it will be much tion, in obedience to orders from ado to save her life.' — Throgmorton home, had given a severe message to Elizabeth, August 9. MSS. Scot- to Maitland. 'Yea,' saith he, ' it is l 2 148 History of England. Chap xiv show themselves. They cared nothing for the Queen ; I567 they cared much for the greatness of their house, and August something they cared for Scotland. They had no humour to fill the country with blood to please their ' auld enemies ; ' and if the Confederate Lords would resolve finally to abandon the detested alliance with England, return to their old traditions, accept France for their patron, and admit the Hamilton' succession, the prisoner at Lochleven might cease to be a difficulty. Her life, in fact, was the only obstacle to an immediate union of parties. Were she once dead no question could be raised about her. So long as she lived there was the fear that she might one day be restored by Elizabeth ; and if the Hamiltons came over to the Lords while this possibility continued, ' they would lose her thanks for their former well doings, incur as much danger as those who. had been first and deepest in the action against her, and suffer most having most to lose.' ' Let the Lords proceed,' they said ; ' let them provide for themselves and such as would join with them, that they should come to no dan gerous reckoning — (meaning thereby the dispatch of the Queen, for they said they could not honour two suns), and it should not be long ere they could accord and run all one course.' These were the words which on the 9th of August were reported to Throgmorton by Murray of Tullibardine, as a communication which had been just received from the counter-confederacy at Hamilton Castle. Throgmorton had heard something of it before. The Archbishop was known to have promoted the Both- well marriage merely to ruin the Queen ; yet selfishness and baseness so profound seemed scarcely credible when laid out in black and white. ' Surely,' Throgmorton said, ' the Hamiltons could make more by the Queen's life than by her death. The Reign of Elizabeth. 149 They might make a better bargain by marrying her to Chap xiv the Lord of Arbroath.' iS67 The alternative had been considered, Tulhbardine Ausu6t rephed, but after careful thought had been laid aside. ' They saw not so good an outgate by this device as by the Queen's destruction ; for she being taken away, they accounted but the little King betwixt them and home. They loved not the Queen : they knew she had no great fancy to any of them, and they thus much feared her, the more because she was young and might have many children, which was the thing they would be rid of ' My Lord,' he continued, as he saw Throgmorton still half incredulous, ' never take me for a true gentleman if this be not true that 1 tell you. The Archbishop of St. Andrews and the Abbot of Kilwinning ' have pro- . posed this much to me within these forty-eight hours.' 2 The substantial truth of Tullibardine's words was easily ascertained. Both the Hamiltons and Lord Huntly had made the same proposals, had suggested the same measures through separate messengers; and, per plexed and fatally disheartened, Throgmorton went once more to Mar and Maitland, on whose general modera tion he believed that he could rely. From neither of them, however, could he gather any comfort. Mar told him that he would do what he could for the Queen in the way of persuasion, ' but to save her life,' he said, ' by endangering her son or his estate, or by betraying my marrows, I will never do it, my Lord Ambassador, for all the gowd in the world.' 3 Maitland was scarcely less discouraging, and replied to his appeal with mournful bitterness. 1 Gawen Hamilton. 3 Throgmorton to Leicester, Au- 2 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, Au- gust 9. — MSS. Scotland. gust g. — MSS. Scotland. 150 History of England. Chap xiv ' My Lord,' he said, ' we know all the good purposes "1S67 ' which have passed between you and the Hamiltons and August - t the Earl of Argyle and Huntly. You know how I have 1 proceeded with you since your coming hither ; I have ' given you the best advice I could to prevent extremity, ' and either the Queen your sovereign will not be advised, ' or you do forbear to advise her. I say unto you, as I ' am a Christian man, if we which have dealt in this ' action would consent to take the Queen's life from her, ' all the lords which hold out and lie aloof from us would ' come and join with us within two days. My Lord ' Ambassador, if you should use the speech to the Lords ' which you do to me, all the world could not save the ' Queen's life three days to an end.' l . At length, and after weary expostulations, Throg morton succeeded in extracting a promise 'that the woeful Queen should not die a violent death, unless some new accident occurred,' before the coming of Murray, who was now daily expected. It was high time indeed for Murray to arrive. Two days after, there was a scene at Westminster, which, if the Lords had heard of it before Murray was on the spot to control them, would have been the signal for the final close of Mary Stuart's earthly sufferings. On the i ith of August, 'at four o'clock in the afternoon,' Elizabeth sent for Cecil, 'and entered into a great offensive speech,' reproaching him for having as yet contrived no means for the rescue or protection of the Queen of Scots. Cecil giving evasive answers, the Queen produced a letter which she required him to send to Throgmorton. It was to inform the Lords that whatever other Princes 1 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, August 9. Throgmorton to Cecil, August 9. — MSS. Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 151 might do or forbear to do, she for herself, ' if they con- Chap xiv tinued to keep their sovereign in prisoh, or should do "T567" or devise anything that might touch her life or person, August would revenge it to the uttermost upon such as should be in any wise guilty thereof She told Cecil that she would immediately declare war. She insisted that Throgmorton should deliver her words as an immediate message from herself, and that ' as roundly and as sharply as he could, for he could not express it with more vehemency than she did mean and intend.' l It was Cecil's duty to speak plainly, and furious as Elizabeth was, he did not hesitate. He exhausted every kind of direct argument. At length when nothing which he could say would move her, he suggested what Maitland had already hinted as the belief which was growing up in Scotland, ' The malice of the world would say that she had used severity to the Lords to urge them to rid away the Queen.' Such an interpre tation of her conduct had not occurred to her. Full of her immediate object, she had forgotten that her past artifices might recoil upon her when she least de served it. She hesitated, and at the moment an opportune packet came in from Edinburgh assuring her that a single hostile move would be the Queen's death-warrant. Even this, and the too possible calumny, did not wholly convince her. She still in sisted that her letter should be sent; but she so far . modified her orders that she allowed the ambas sador ' to use discretion in the persons to whom it should be shown.' She named Murray, who by this time she knew must have arrived, and Maitland, ' in 1 Elizabeth to Throgmorton, August ii. -Conway MSS. 152 History of England. Chap xiv whom with the other she reposed most trust to preserve I567 the Queen.' 1 August gj^ ^^ CoUnted rightly on Murray, though to his face she had abused and threatened him. One word from him, or no word — for his silence would have been enough — and his sister would have had as short a shrift as she had aUowed to Darnley. The same nth of August, while Elizabeth was storming at Westminster, he rode into Edinburgh, uncertain whether to accept the Regency, to which he learnt at Berwick that he was to be raised ; uncertain how to act on any side tUl he had seen his sister's letters with his own eyes — till he had spoken with his sister himself. His selection as Regent spoke well for the intentions of the Confederates. He was the only prominent noble man who had carried himself innocently and honourably through the wUd doings of the past years. He was a Calvinist, yet he was too generous to be a fanatic, and the Catholic Courts in Europe respected the integrity which they had tried and failed to corrupt. His ap pointment would be unpalatable to the Hamiltons, yet they would find a difficulty in opposing it. In the minority of the sovereign they claimed the Regency by proximity of blood, yet until they had recognised the Queen's deposition they could not contend for the ad ministration of her government; while the French, to whom they might have looked for support, were willing and eager to give their help to Murray — if Murray in turn would desert the English alliance. And what cause had Murray to prefer the friendship of a sovereign who had betrayed him into rebellion, and 1 Cecil to Throgmorton, August n. — Conway MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 153 then repudiated her own instructions — who had re- Chap xiv proached him openly in her own court for conduct which I567 she had herself invited him to pursue, and had then left An^Bt him to bear as he might the consequences of having con sented to serve her? Why should he prefer Elizabeth, who had even now dismissed him from her presence with menaces and ' hard words,' to Catherine de Medici and Charles, who had loaded him with honours, tempted him with presents, and were ready to support him with the armed hand of France in taking the place to which he was called by his country? It would seem as if he could have given no intelligible reason, except there were objects which he preferred to his own personal in terest. The hand of France was still extended to him, and every practical difficulty would have been removed by his acceptance of it. Although he had stolen away from Paris, Catherine had shown no resentment. De Lig neroUes overtook him between London and Berwick, but only to bring him a magnificent present, and to renew the offer of the pension which he had refused. While Elizabeth was flattering herself that Catherine would go along with her, that troops which were reported to be assembling in Normandy under M. de Martigues were to be used in assisting her to crush the Confederate Lords, de LigneroUes accompanied Murray to Edinburgh, where he assured Throgmorton ' that the whole Protestants of France would live and die in those men's quarrels ;' that if de Martigues came, 'it would be with a good force to succour them.' x He explained distinctly that while his formal instructions were to intercede for the liberty of the Queen, yet if the Lords refused, ' they being 1 Throgmorton to Cecil, August 12.— MSS. Scotland. 154 History of England. Chap xiv noblemen of another country, and not the King's sub- "7^7 jects but his friends, the King could do no more but August j^ S01Ty for his sister's misfortunes.' He told Mait land ' that the King his master was as careful for their safeties as they themselves could be, and to that end advised them to provide substantially. France cared only for the old league, and could be as weU contented to take it of the little King as otherwise.' x It would have perhaps been better for the interests of Europe if the support thus offered by France had been accepted, if Murray's integrity had been less, or his political insight had been greater. If the Scotch noble men, supported by the nearest relatives of the Queen, had brought her to trial for her crimes and publicly executed her, she at least would have ceased to be an element of European discord. Her claims on England and the question of her guilt would have at once and for ever been disposed of. The French Government would have insensibly committed themselves on the side of the Reformation, by uniting with a party who had been its great promoters in another country. Their depend ence upon the Guises would have been weakened ; their connections with the Huguenots would have been drawn closer ; the smouldering remnant of the Catholic faction in Scotland would have been extinguished ; and England and France, no longer divided by creed, might have been drawn together with Scotland as a connecting link, and hand in hand have upheld in Europe the great interests of freedom. Other consequences, it is true, might have followed. Mary Stuart, in life or death, was the pivot of many possibilities ; and speculations ' as to what might have 1 Throgmorton to Cecil, August iz.— MSS. Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 155 been ' are usually worthless ; yet this particular result, Chap xiv looked at by the light of after events, appears so much Ij67 more likely than any other, that the loss of an opportu- August nity, which, if caught and used, might have prevented such tremendous misfortunes, cannot be passed over without some expression of regret. For the first two days after Murray's arrival it seemed as if France would gain the day. He had left Elizabeth foaming with indignation at the conduct of the Lords; he knew that it would be idle to ask her to recognise a government of which he was the head ; while Catherine was ready to receive a minister from *him at the French Court, and Maitland was already spoken of as the person who was to be sent to Paris. When the casket and its contents were laid before him, 'none spoke more bitterly against the tragedy and the players therein than Murray; none showed so little liking to such horrible sins.' x He expressed 'great com miseration towards his sister,' and he hesitated about the R'egency ; yet it was clear that, in spite of Elizabeth, 'he intended to take his fortune with the Lords.' He told Throgmorton that ' he would not gladly live in Scotland if they should miscarry or abandon his friendship.' Before he formed a final resolution he insisted that he must see the Queen, and the Lords, after some hesi tation, consented. He ' showed himself much perplexed, honour and nature moving him one way, his duty to his friends and to religion drawing him the other.' Time, at any rate, would be gained, and there was no longer a fear, as there had been a few days previously, that the Queen would be secretly murdered. Her friends could only hope that Elizabeth would give the Lords no 1 Throgmorton to Cecil, August 12. — MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. 156 History of England. Chap xiv fresh provocation, and would be brought to consider the ~^~~ situation more temperately. August i j trust,' Throgmorton wrote on the 14th to Leicester, ' that the woeful lady hath abidden the extremity of 'her affliction; and the way to amend her fortune is for ' the Queen's Majesty to deal in her speech more calmly ' than she doth, and likewise not to let them see that her ' Majesty will shake off all their friendship, for surely ' that will bring a dangerous issue. Scotland, and all the ' ablest and wisest of the nation, will become good French, ' which wiU breed and nourish a cumbrous sequel to her ' Majesty and her realm.' x Elizabeth too on her side was ' perplexed,' as reason alternated with passion. She was able to acknowledge Murray's difficulties, and she feared at times ' he would be in more peril himself than be able to do anything for his sister; she doubted the matter to be so handled as he must either endanger himself or dishonour him self:' but she trusted that 'he would show himself such an one as he seemed to her he would be.' 2 That he would dishonour himself there was little likehhood, and for personal danger Murray cared as much for it as nobleminded men are in the habit of caring ; but his position was one in which more than moral qualities were wanted. For the work cut out for him ' he had too much of the milk of human kindness.' The curtain rises for a moment over the interior of Mary Stuart's prison-house. When the first rage had passed away, she had used the arms of which nothing could deprive her ; she had flung over her gaolers the spell of that singular fascination which none who came MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. Leicester to Throgmorton, August 6. — Conway MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 157 in contact failed entirely to feel. She had charmed Chap xiv even the lady of Lochleven, to whose gentle qualities Is67 romance has been unjust; and, 'by one means or August another she had won the favour and goodwill of the most part of the house, as well men as women, whereby she had means to have intelhgence, and was in some towardness to have escaped.' x So alarming an evi dence of what she might still do to cause disturbance of course increased her peril, and for the two weeks which followed she was confined a close prisoner in the rooms set apart for her use. The island on which the castle stands was then something under an acre in extent. The castle itself consisted of the ordinary Scotch tower, a strong stone structure, five and twenty feet square, carried up for three or four stories, which formed one corner of a large court from ninety to a hundred feet across. The base ment story was a flagged hall, which served at the same time for kitchen and guardroom. The two or three rooms above it may have been set apart for the lord and lady and their female servants. The court was enclosed by a battlemented waU eighteen or twenty feet high, along the inner sides of which ran a series of low sheds and outhouses, where the servants, soldiers, and retainers Uttered in the straw. In the angle opposite the castle was a round turret, entered, like the main buUding, from the court; within it was something like an ordinary lime-kiln from seven to eight feet in diameter; the walls were five feet thick, formed of rough hewn stone rudely plastered, and pierced with long narrow slits for windows, through which no thing larger than a cat could pass, but which admitted 1 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, August 5. — MSS. Scotland. 158 History of England. Chap xiv daylight and glimpses of the lake and the hUls. This ,5fi7 again was divided into three rooms, one above the August other; the height of each may have been six feet; in the lowest there was a fireplace, and the windows show marks of grooves, which it is to be hoped were fitted with glass. The communication from room to room must have been by ladders through holes in the floors, for there was no staircase outside, and no space for one within. Here it was, in these three apartments, that the Queen of Scots passed the long months of her imprisonment. Decency must have been difficult in such a place, and cleanliness impossible. She had happily a tough healthy nature, which cared httle for minor discom forts. At the worst she had as many luxuries as the wives and daughters of half the peers in Scotland. At her first coming she had been allowed to walk on the battlements and on the terrace outside the gate ; but since her attempt to escape she had been strictly con fined to her tower ; and she was stiU a close prisoner there when, on the 1 5th of August, the Earl of Murray, accompanied by Athol, Morton, and Lindsay, arrived at the island. The brother and sister met without the presence of witnesses ; and the character of the interview can be gathered only from what one or the other cared to reveal. Thus much Throgmorton was able to tell. The Queen received Murray 'with great passion and weeping,' which however produced no effect. Murray understood her tears by this time as well as Knox. He sat with her for several hours, but he was cold and reserved. She was unable to infer from his words ' either the UI which he had conceived of her or meant towards her.' She tried to work upon his weakness, and she failed. The Reign of Elizabeth. 159 But the meeting did not end there: in the evening, Chap xiV 'after supper,' they were again together, and then it 7^~ seems that Murray spoke out his whole heart. Deep Ausilst into the night, until ' one of the clock ' they remained ; the young, beautiful, brilliant Queen of Scotland, fresh . from acts ' That blurred the grace and blush of modesty — fresh from ' the enseamed bed ' of a brutal cutthroat, and the one man in all the world who loved her as his father's daughter, who had no guilt upon his own heart, hke so many of those who were clamouring for her death, to steel his heart towards her, who could make aUowances only too great for the temptations by which she had been swept away. ' Plainly without disguising he did discover unto her all his opinions of her misgovernment, and laid before her all such disorders as might either touch her consci ence, her honour, or her surety.' ' He behaved himself rather like a ghostly father unto her than like a coun- cUlor,' and she for the time was touched or seemed to be touched. Her letters had betrayed ' the inmost part of her ' too desperately for denial. 'Sometimes,' says Throgmorton, ' she wept bitterly ; sometimes she ac knowledged her unadvisedness ; some things she did confess plainly ; some things she did excuse, some things she did extenuate.' 1 What Throgmorton could not venture to report more plainly to Elizabeth, Lady Lennox added to the Spanish Ambassador : — ' The Queen of Scots admitted to her brother that she knew the con spiracy for her husband's murder.' 2 1 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, Au- de Murray llego a Escocia file" a gust 20. — Keith. hablar a la Reyna, la qual trato con 2 'Milady Margarita ma ha en- el de su deliberacion, encomendan- viado a decir que luego que el Conde dole lo que toca a, su vida y nego- 160 History of England. Chap xiv He left her for the night, ' in hope of nothing but 6? God's mercy, willing her to seek to that as her chiefest August refuge.' Another interview in the morning ended less painfully. It has pleased the apologists of the Queen of Scots to pretend an entire acquaintance with Murray's motives ; to insist that he had intended to terrify her, merely that she might again consent to make over the government to him. How, in the sense of these writers, the government of Scotland could have been an object of desire either to Murray or to any man, is less easy to explain. A less tempting prospect to personal ambition has been rarely offered — a Regency without a revenue, over a country which was a moral, social, and religious chaos. He had the certain hatred of half the nobUity before him if he allowed the Queen to live ; the certain indignation and perhaps the open hostUity of Elizabeth if he accepted the government ; the imminent risk of an early and violent death. With these conditions before him, ambition, unless to save his sister, or at his own deadly peril to bring his country out of the anarchy in which it was weltering, could have had but little influ ence with Murray, and ambition such as that does not compass its ends with baseness. He had forced her to see both her ignominy and her danger, but he would not leave her without some words of consolation. He told her that he would assure her life, and if possible he would shield her reputation, and prevent the publication of her letters. Liberty she could i not have, neither would she do well at present ' for many respects ' to seek it. He did not wholly be lieve her professions of penitence : he warned her ' that cios ; y que la Reyna habia confesado marido.' — De Silva to Philip August que supo el trato de la muerte de su 30. MSS. Simaneas. The Reign of Elizabeth. 161 if she practised to disturb the peace of the realm, to Chap xiv make a faction in it, to escape from Lochleven, or to JSe7 animate. the Queen of England or the French King to August ; trouble the realm;' finally, 'if she persisted in her affection for BothweU,' — his power to protect her would be at an end. If, on the contrary, ' she would acknow ledge her faults to God ; if she would lament her sins past, so as it might appear that she detested her former life and intended a better conversation and a more modest behaviour;' 'if she would make it evident that she did abhor the murder of her husband, and did mis- like her former life with BothweU, and minded no revenge to the Lords and others who had sought her reformation,' — aU might yet be weU, and she might hope eventuaUy to recover her crown. ' She took him in her arms and kissed him.' They spoke of the government : she knew that in his hands, and his only, her hfe would be in no danger, and she implored him not to refuse it. He told her distinctly the many objections — he knew that it would be a post of certain peril — but she pressed him, and he con sented. Then ' giving orders for her gentle treatment and aU other good usage,' he took his leave, with new fits of tears, kisses, and embraces.1 ' Kisses and embraces ! ' and from that moment, as Mary Stuart had hated Murray before, so thenceforth she hated him with an intensity to which her past dislike was pale and colourless. He had held a mir ror before her in which she had seen herself in her true depravity; he had shown her that he knew her as she was, and yet he spared her; while she played 1 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, August 20. ELIZ. HI. M 162 History of England. Chap xiv upon his affections she despised him as imbecile, and 6? the injury of his kindness she never forgave. August Even in the eyes of men of the world his conduct was profoundly imprudent. ' The Earl of Murray,' said James MelviUe, who un derstood Mary Stuart as well as he, ' instead of com forting his sister, entered with her Majesty in reproaches, giving her such injurious language as was like to break her heart : we who blamed him for this lost his favour. The injuries were such as they cut the thread of love betwixt the Queen and him for ever.'1 The men of the world would have killed her, or made friends with her: had Murray been as they he would have seen the force of the alternative, but he would not have fulfilled his duty better as an affectionate brother or a Christian nobleman. Murray then was to be Regent, and the Queen of Scots' deposition was to be confirmed, with Elizabeth's pleasure or without. The state of Scotland demanded it — his sister's safety demanded it, fume or fret as sovereign princes might at the example. The theory that when rulers misconducted themselves, subjects must complain to God, and if God took no notice must submit as to a divine scourge, was to find no acceptance. The study of the Old Testament had not led the Scots to any such conception of what God required of them. ' The Lord Regent,' reported Throgmorton, three days later, ' will go more stoutly to work than any man hath done yet; for he seeks to imitate rather some who have led the people of Israel than any captain of our days. As I can learn, he meaneth to use no dallying, but either he wiU have obedience to this young King of all 1 Memoirs of Sir James Melville. The Reign of Elizabeth. 163 estates in this realm, or it shaU cost him . his life. He Chap xiv is resolved to defend the Lords and gentlemen that have I567 taken this matter in hand, though all the princes in August Christendom would band against them.' x Thus the difficulties which lay before him were not long in showing themselves. Since the Queen was to be aUowed to live, the Hamiltons and their friends considered that they would best consult their own interests by holding aloof. Ehzabeth, even before she heard that he had made his decision, sent him word that she would never recognise his government, and threatened him with 'pubhc ignominy.'2 To the Hamiltons he replied, 'that there should be no subject nor place within the realm exempted from the King's authority,' or from obedience to himself as Regent there.3 To Ehzabeth he said, that his course ' was now past deliberation,' and ' for ignominy and calumniation, he had no other defence but the goodness of God, his upright conscience, and his intent to deal sincerely in his office. If that would not serve he had no more to say, for there was none other remedy but he must go through with the matter.'4 Throgmorton asked him whether there was a hope that the Queen would be released. He replied that as long as BothweU was at large and unpunished, it could not be spoken of, and ' they would not merchandise for the bear's skin before they had caught the bear.' The Queen's liberty would depend upon her own beha viour: 'if she digested the punishment of the murderer,' 1 Throgmorton to Cecil, August 3 Throgmorton to Elizabeth, Au- 20. — MSS. Scotland. gust 23. 2 Cecil to Throgmorton, Conway 4 Throgmorton to Cecil, Septem- MSS. her 1.— MSS. Scotland. m2 164 History of England. Chap xrv without betraying * any wrathful or revengeful mind,' I56? and if Elizabeth would seek the quiet of Scotland, and August n0^ endeavour to trouble him ' by nourishing contrary factions,' the Lords would be more compliant than for the present they were disposed to be.1 MeanwhUe her hfe and her reputation were for the present safe. The publication of the letters would, at any moment, serve as his complete defence against public censure; he said that he would forbear from using this advantage as long as he was let alone ; but Murray, or Maitland for him, warned the English Ambassador that if Elizabeth ' made war upon them,' ' they would not lose then* lives, have their lands forfeited, and be reputed rebels throughout the world, when they had the means in their hands to justify themselves, however sorry they might be for it.'2 The gauntlet was thus thrown down to Elizabeth. If she hesitated to take it up, and to send an army by way of reply into Scotland, it was from no want of wUl to punish the audacious subjects who had dared to depose their sovereign. So angry was she that when CecU and his friends remonstrated with her, she re proached them with themselves meditating disloyalty ; and those Ministers who had laboured for years in drawing Scotland and England together, and smoothing the way for a more intimate union, saw their exertions shipwrecked against the Queen's theories of the sacred ness of Princes.3 To avoid forcing Murray upon 1 Throgmorton to Cecil, Septem- and we here cannot move her Ma- ber i.— MSS. Scotland. jesty to mitigate it do what we can, Throgmorton. to Elizabeth, Au- or to move her to hide it more than gust 22.-KEITH. she doth. But surely the more we ' The Queen's Majesty is in con- deal in it the more danger some of tinual offence against all these Lords, us find in her indignation; and The Reign of Elizabeth. 165 France, CecU ventured to hint that she should receive Chap xiv a minister at the Court from him. She told Cecil he ,S67 was a fool x for suggesting anything ' so prejudicial to August the Queen,' and she sought a more congenial adviser in de Silva ; who, however well he thought of Murray, and whatever iU he knew of the Queen of Scots, was too glad of an opportunity to encourage a quarrel among Protestants. ' The Queen,' de SUva wrote to Phihp, ' assured me that ' she not only meant to set the Queen of Scots at liberty, ' but was determined to use aU her power to punish the ' Confederate Lords. She said she would send some one ' to the King of France to teU him what she was going to ' do, and to express her hope that other Princes would ' stand by her ; especially, she told me, she depended ' upon our Sovereign, the greatest of them all, meaning ' by these words your Majesty. Your Majesty^ she was ' confident, would not allow the French to interfere in ' defence of the rebels. ' Every one,' I replied, ' would approve of such con- ' duct on the part of her Highness in a just and honest ' cause. Your Majesty, I was quite sure, could be always 'reUed upon by your friends, and above aU by her specially in conceiving that we are seven or eight years' negociations not dutifully minded to her Majesty with Scotland, and now to suffer a as our Sovereign ; and where such divorce between this realm and that, thorns be, it is no quiet treading. where neither of the countries shall For howsoever her Majesty shall in take either good or pleasure thereof. this cause (touching her so nearly as If '.religion may remain, I trust the it seemeth she conceiveth, though I divorce shall be rather in words and trust without any just cause) be terms than in hearts; and of this offended with my arguments, I will, I have no great doubt.' — Cecil to after my opinions declared, obey her Throgmorton, August 20. Conway Majesty to do that which is my office. MSS. Very sorry I am to behold the like- l ' Noting in me no small folly.'— lihood of the loss of the fruit of Ibid. 166 History of England. Chap xiv ' Highness, to whom your Majesty had borne such pe- Ij67 ' culiar goodwiU. August 4 g^g desired me not to repeat what she had said, for ' there were persons about her who for their own pur- 'pose did not agree with her views in the matter, and ' she did not wish them to know what she was going to ' do. She had spoken to me because she counted on ' my discretion, and because in aU her communications ' with me, she had found me the truest friend that she ' possessed.' x As a step towards the intervention which she medi tated, she had again made secret advances to the HamU- tons. She was aware of the proposals with which they had approached the Confederate Lords. She was aware that they were Catholic and French, and that in assist ing them she was feeding the enemies of aU which her own Government had most carefully laboured to encourage. Yet if they would form a party for the Queen and against Murray, other drawbacks were trivial in comparison. They, at all events, had no objection to receive Eliza beth's money. Maitland said they would take it and laugh at her. Throgmorton thought that anyhow it would be utterly thrown away.2 But the Hamiltons intimated as much readiness to meet her wishes as would ensure her supplying them. They selected Lord Herries, a smooth-tongued plausible person, to make arrangements either with Elizabeth in person, if she 1 De Silva to Philip, August — . so vicious, their fidelity so fickle -MSB. Simaneas. theiv party so weak> ag j count it _ As to the Hamiltons and their lost whatsoever is bestowed upon faction ' their conditions be such, fhem.'-Throgmorton to Cecil, August their behaviour so inordinate, the 20. MSS. Scotland. most of them so unable, their living The Reign of Elizabeth. 167 would aUow him to come to London, or with any person Chap xiv whom she would depute to meet him on the Borders.1 *7^7 She was prudent enough to refrain from receiving SePteml:>er him herself, and she commissioned Lord Scrope, the governor of Carlisle, who was more than half a Catholic, to represent her. She sent Herries 3,000 marks,2 and, both through Scrope and Throgmorton, she gave the Hamiltons to understand that ' she allowed their pro ceedings ' in resisting Murray, and would uphold them to the utmost of her power. Mary Stuart's misdoings, however, were too recent to aUow a party as yet to form itself which could openly take the field in her cause. Elizabeth would have lighted up a civil war if she could. The Hamiltons, Argyle, Huntly, Fleming, and several other noblemen, met at Glasgow at the beginning of September, to consider what could be done ; but ' the more they disputed the greater difficulty they found.'3 Argyle was offered the lieutenancy of the federation, but he refused, and, with Gawen Hamilton and Lord Boyd, ' made his peace ' with 1 The Archbishop of St. Andrews, of Lochinvar and Garlies, his next the Lords Fleming, Abroatrh, and neighbours, to be hanged for pro- Boyd to Throgmorton, August 19. mises broken by him. Thus much — MSS. Scotland. I speak because he is the likeliest - As the name of Lord Herries will and the most dangerous man to en- occur frequently in the following chant you.' — Throgmorton to Cecil, pages, the following account of him August 20. will not be out of place : — Bedford's opinion was much the ' The Lord Herries is the cunning same : — horseleech and the wisest of the ' I hear,' he wrote, ' that the Lord whole faction, but, as the Queen of Herries desireth to come up to the Scotland saith, there is no one can Queen's Majesty. He is the subtlest be sure of him. He taketh pleasure and falsest man for practice that is to bear all the world in hand. Here in Scotland.' — Bedford to Cecil, Au- among his own countrymen he is gust — . Border MSS. noted to be the most cautelous man s Sir James Melville to ThrOg- of his nation. It may like you to morton, September 10. — MSS. Scot- remember that he suffered his own land. hostages, the hostages of the Lairds 3 Ibid. 168 History of England. chap xiv Murray. Herries told Scrope, that ' he could not be sure ~^~ of four persons besides himself to stand firmly on the September Queen's side.'1 The opportunity was gone, he said, or was not yet come. On returning from the Borders he followed the example of his friends, and on the 15 th of September, Murray was able to tell the English Ambas sador, not without some irony, ' that the noblemen who had stood out had all at last submitted ; so that he praised God there appeared no break in the whole wall.' . Ehzabeth could but digest her disappointment and the loss of her money as best she could. She of course recaUed her Minister. De LigneroUes had returned to Paris loaded with presents. Throgmorton took his leave, happy only in his ill-success, and was allowed to accept nothing. In obedience to orders, when offered the usual compliments, he said 'that he would take anything which the Queen of Scotland might be pleased to give him ; he could receive no present from a King who had attained that honour by injuring his mother.' He was told briefly that ' such expressions did but breed contention to no purpose. He had better say no more and go his way.'2 The administrative relations between the two coun tries were left In confusion. Bedford was forbidden to recognise the commissions of the Scottish wardens — running as they did in James's name — and had to manage the Borders as he could. Scrope, at Elizabeth's secret command, continued to correspond with Herries, and Herries, who was on the point of leaving Scotland and giving up the game, consented to remain. The Hamiltons professed to have yielded from an inability to beheve that the English Government could seriously 1 Scrope to Cecil, September 12. ! Throgmorton to Cecil, Sep- — Border MSS. tember — .— MSS. Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 169 pursue a policy so contrary to English interests. Could Chap xiv they be assured ' that her Grace would enter into the ,567 matter,' they promised to hold themselves in readiness, SePtember watch their opportunities, and endeavour to the best of their ability to carry out her wishes. So were the seeds sown of those miserable feuds, which for five years harassed the hearths and homes of Scotland — which made for ever impossible that more temperate spirit, which but for this might have softened the rigours of Calvinism — which caused the eventual ruin of the person whose interests Elizabeth was intend ing to serve, by tempting her to take refuge in the do minions of a sovereign who was so persistently pretend ing to be her friend. MeanwhUe the Regent was left with a few months of quiet, to show the world the happier fate which might have been in store for Scotland, had CecU's counsels and Bedford's stormy protests found a listener in their Queen. Tulhbardine and Kirkaldy of Grange set out in pur suit of BothweU, who when the country began to settle had fled from Dunbar to his dukedom in the Orkneys, - and was there leading the wild life of a pirate chieftain. Being warned of their coming, he crossed to the Shet- lands, and there, among the narrow channels and inlets, he was at his last shift, when Grange's ship, in hot pursuit of him, ran upon a rock. Grange sprang into a boat to continue the chase, but the vessel was sinking, and he could not leave his crew to drown. The occasion of so much confusion and misery made his way to Den mark, where the King long protected him in expectation that Mary Stuart would be restored, and afterwards threw him into prison, where he died. His pursuers returned to Leith, having missed their principal prey, but having taken many of his followers, among others 170 History of England. Chap xiv the young Laird of Tallo, who, with Hepburn, fired the "7^~ tram m tne house a* Kirk o' Field. The Regent set November nimSelf to the solid work of restoring the majesty of justice and extinguishing the anarchy which was re ducing the noble kingdom of the Stuarts to a second Ireland. The first sufferers were the Border thieves, who had given so much trouble to the English wardens. Stooping down unexpectedly ' on market day ' at Hawick, he seized six-and-thirty of them, hot-handed in their iniquities. Thirteen were promptly hanged, nine with stones about their necks were sent to the bottom of the nearest pool; fourteen were taken off to Edinburgh, and for some months at least the peaceful traders could carry a fuU purse through Liddisdale.1 Elizabeth on her side had her hands full of vexations and troubles of another sort, which explain if they do not excuse her violence and perverseness. The powerful party which, in Parliament and out of it, had so long advocated the Queen of Scots' succession, though dis organized by Darnley's death, had not been destroyed. The Queen of Scots' participation in the murder was known as yet only through rumour, and the many Catholics who had so long looked upon her as their one stay and hope, could not easily part with so dear an expectation. The Confederate Lords had from the first determined if they spared her life to respect her repu tation, and beyond the circle of those who were admitted to state secrets, men affirmed her guUt or denied it according to the complexion of their creed. While the attitude which would be assumed by Elizabeth was yet uncertain, the Archbishop of Glasgow had been able to tell Don Francis de Alava, that if the Queen of England 1 Sir "William Drury to Cecil, November i.—MSS. Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 171 supported the Lords, she would have a war upon her Chap xiv hands at home with which aU the world would ring ; x I567 and all over the northern counties disguised priests NoTember were gliding from house to house, ' under colour of re hgion,' pouring out eloquent sentiment about the lost faith of their fathers; already representing the Loch leven prisoner as a suffering saint ; and ' by their lewd practices' 'seducing good subjects through their own simplicity into error and disloyalty.' 2 Nor as yet was the Estabhshed Church successful in gaining the aUegiance of the country generaUy. WhUe the CathoUcs were encroaching on one side of the Via Media, the Puritans were denouncing it upon the other. The prosecutions of the London clergy had hardened the sufferers and multiphed their followers, and the Bishops were denounced as ' imps of Antichrist, with whom it was sinful to hold communion.' The clergy were generaUy taking wives, and the Queen, as little as ever able to reconcUe herself to it, caught eagerly at every scandalous report, true or false, which was brought to her. 3 1 Alava to Philip, July 26. — guilty in the Queen's eyes. She Tebxet, vol. v. had endeavoured to preserve at least 2 The Queen to the Bishop of these as types of the true spiritual Chester, February 3, 1568. The order; and in some instances they Queen to the Earl of Derby, Feb- had misappropriated the property of ruary 3. The Queen to the Sheriff the Church to the use of their fami - of Lancashire, February 21. — Do- lies. A charge of this kind had been mestic MSS. Rolls House. Among brought against the Dean and Chap- the persons named as ' busy' in these ters of Canterbury, and had par- doings were Allen afterwards Car- ticularly exasperated her. It was dinal, Vance ex-warden of Winches- perhaps exaggerated. Parker writes ter, Murray who had been chaplain on the 12th of August, 'I have in to Bonner, Marshal late Dean of formation from Canterbury church Christ Church, Hargrave late vicar of the Dean there of whom so great of Blackbourne, and ' one Norris information was made that he had terming himself a physician,' sold and divided such a huge quan- 3 Deans and canons were the most tity of plate and vestry ornaments 172 History of England. Chap xiv The Church of England as by law constituted gave I567_g no pleasure to the earnest of any way of thinking. To the ultra-Protestants it was no better than Romanism ; to the Catholics or partial Catholics it was in schism from the communion of Christendom; while the great middle party, the common sense of the country, of whom Elizabeth was the representative, were uneasy and dis satisfied. They could see in the new constitution no defined principle which had borne the test of time, and they were watching, with an anxiety which they did not care to conceal, both the extravagances of the Protestant refugees from the Continent, with whom London was swarming, and the recovering energy of the Catholic Powers abroad. In Spain and Italy the faint beginnings of the Reformation had been trampled out. Germany was torpid. In France, though there was a momentary lull in the struggle, and the Court were inclining to the Huguenots, yet there was no sign as yet of the growth of any strong national feeling which would hold in check the violence of the two factions. Two deadly enemies who had tried each other's strength were watching an opportunity to renew the conflict at advantage with a hate which was deepening every hour. Of the Nether lands the condition will be described hereafter more particularly. It is enough to say that the crown of Spain and the popular leaders had come at last to an open breach. At the time that Mary Stuart was taken prisoner at Carberry HiU the Duke of Alva was bringing that it is no marvel though Pope plate and bullion found in the church Hildebrand's spirit walketh fu- he, with consent of all the chap- riously abroad to slander the poor ter, converted to the church uses married estate. Credit is so ready to only. —Parker to Cecil, August 12, believe the worst. Sed qui habitat 1567. Domestic MSS. in coelis irridebit eos. The broken The Reign of Elizabeth. 173 a Spanish army to Brussels to overwhelm liberty and Chap xiv heresy in a common destruction, and Phihp the Second ,s67_g was expected there in the autumn to superintend the consummation in person. It was easy to foresee the effect which would be pro duced upon the English Catholics by the presence, in their immediate neighbourhood, of the Spanish Sove reign, once England's titular King, to whom they had so long looked for guidance and help, at the head of a large body of victorious troops — absolutely victorious, as it was assumed they must be in the unequal struggle which was before them.1 It seemed but too likely that England would drift into the condition of France, and that, in spite of the efforts of the Government, a war of creeds was at no great distance. Amidst so many elements of disquiet, aU parties in Elizabeth's Council — CecU as well as the Duke of Nor folk, Sir Francis Knollys as weU as Arundel and Sussex — turned their minds again to devise means by which the foreign relations of the country could be re-estab lished, and one chief cause of dissatisfaction be removed at home. The Queen's marriage question had now for some time been allowed to sleep. The Queen of Scots' 1 The excitement was naturally other matters concluded amongst greatest in the North. On the 20th them not certainly known but only of December a letter to Lord Pern- to themselves. Whatever the matter broke says: ' I hear by Mr. Garrard, be, they seem to rejoice greatly at the recorder of Chester, that there the report of the King coming — as if is in Lancashire a great number of they should thereby be made able gentlemen and others of the best sort to take order for the setting up of — it is reputed 5°° — that have taken their Popish kingdom, and rooting a solemn oath among themselves out of Lutherans and heretics as that they will not come at the com- they term who please them.' — R. munion nor receive the sacrament Hurleston to the Earl of Pembroke, during the Queen's majesty's reign, December 20. Domestic MSS.u whom God long preserve, besides 174 History of England. Chap xiv succession had come graduaUy to be looked upon as a TTTs" certainty. The Cathohcs had set their hearts upon it as the term of their own sufferings. The political ad vantages contingent upon the union of the crowns had reconciled the body of the nation to the prospect of a stranger, and Elizabeth's own inclinations had long pointed in the same direction. The murder of Darnley had' revived the old uncertainties. Even men hke Arundel and Norfolk had not as yet recovered suffi ciently from the shock of that transaction to contem plate Mary Stuart's accession as any longer a possibility, and once more it became necessary to reopen the weary grievance. While Leicester had not even yet wholly abandoned hopes,1 the Council had gone back to Charles of Austria, the alliance which every day made more desirable for a sovereign in Elizabeth's position. Married to Charles she would be at once out of danger from Spain. The Archduke at the court of his father and brother had learned the principles of moderation, which the necessities of their position imposed upon the Emperors of Germany. Himself a Cathohc, he had learned to tolerate without difficulty the Lutheranism of the Augs burg Confession, and the efforts, both of the Queen and the higher classes in England, were to keep the Church as near as possible to the Augsburg theology, 1 In April the lovers were commu- commended the manner of his writ- nicating with 'tokens,' and 'meta- ing,' perhaps as Olivia commended phors.' Leicester had complained Malvolio's yellow stockings; with of Elizabeth's ' extreme rigour.' much else of a half-serious, half- Elizabeth had called him ' a came- mocking kind ; which Leicester's leon which changed into all colours friends watched anxiously, and sent save innocency.' 'At the sight of him daily reports of. — Throgmorton his cypher, the Black Heart, she had to Leicester, May 9. Domestic MSS. shown sundry affections.' ' She had The Reign of Elizabeth. 175 and to steer it clear of the Genevan channel into which Chap xiv the more earnest Reformers were rapidly setting. Hav- Ij67_g ing been trifled with for seven years, the Emperor could not have been expected to make further advances. If the subject was to be re-opened, the initiative might naturally have been taken by England, But the English Ministers could not obtain permission from Elizabeth to do more than indicate that if Maximilian would begin she would not again disappoint him. Maximilian made slight informal overtures, and in May Lord Sussex was chosen to go to Vienna to carry the Garter to the Emperor, and arrange, if possible, the conditions of the marriage. Yery reluctantly Ehzabeth had been brought so far upon the way. A month elapsed before she could re solve on the form of Sussex's instructions, and almost a second before she could allow him to set out. At last, in the middle of July, whUe the Queen of Scots was in so much danger at Lochleven, she permitted him to go, and on the 9th of August he was at Vienna. This time she was supposed to be serious. So agi tated was Catherine de Medici that she at once renewed her offer of Charles IX., and even offered to restore Calais if she would take her son. Elizabeth said briefly she could not make herself ridiculous,1 and she alarmed Catherine still more by her unusual decision. The history of this last earnest effort to bring about the Austrian marriage throws so sharp a light into the undercurrents of Enghsh feeling, that it is worth whUe to follow it closely. The first point in the instructions which Sussex at 1 'Leoffrecieron a Calais sehiciese una comedia tan graciosa como una el matrimonio. La Reyna dixo que vieja y un nifio & la puerta de la no dara lugar a que el mundo vea Iglesia.' — De Silva to Philip, July 9. 176 History of England. Chap xiv last received was on his behaviour at the presentation of ~7^~ the Garter. Those high ceremonies were always ac companied with a religious service. Sussex was for bidden to be present at mass, but he was to suggest that the investiture should take place in the afternoon ; and he might attend vespers ' with safety to his conscience.' Making the best excuses which he could for Elizabeth's past treatment of the Archduke, he was 'then to say when he opened his commission, that — ' Whatever might by report or otherwise come to his Majesty's ears to the contrary, the Queen was stiU free to marry whenever God should move her ; and although she had been for many years of mind not to enter into marriage, yet the great necessity which her subjects laid upon her had brought her, contrary to her natural inclination, to give ear to the Emperor's motion.' Other proposals had been made to her, but she had ever pre ferred the Archduke to her other suitors, and she now trusted that, if certain difficulties could be overcome, the marriage might be finally concluded. The Emperor had intimated that his brother would expect permission to have Catholic service in his household. ' Many incon veniences had happened in other countries from main taining contrariety of religion,' and in England, though there had been many changes, ' there was never aUowed any contrariety therein at one time.' 'England differed in that from all other states that it could not suffer those diversities of rehgion which others were seen to do.' It was to be hoped therefore that the Archduke would be content with the English Liturgy. There was nothing in it which was not in Scripture, and no one calling himself a Christian need dislike any part of it. He and every man might think what they pleased. 'The law touched no man's conscience,, so as public The Reign of Elizabeth. 177 order was not violated by external act or teaching.' Chap xiv The country had been so far peaceably governed under T567" this system, and it could not be altered. September So reasonable this view of the matter appeared to Elizabeth, that she did not anticipate the possibility of a difficulty being made about it, unless the negotiations should come to nothing on other grounds. The Arch duke had been himself heard to say, ' alleging what troubles might come of diversities of religion, that he would not only forbear to hear mass in England, but would adventure his blood upon any that should move disturbance in the realm upon that occasion.' ' At all events,' the Queen said, ' it would touch her reputa tion to change her laws for a marriage, and the ex ample would breed more trouble than could well be remedied.' The Archduke had better come to England and see, and be seen ; and Sussex was directed ' to use private persuasions ' to induce him to return with the embassy. The religious difficulty was in reality nothing but an excuse. Ehzabeth, however, pretended to be sincerely anxious that the treaty should go forward, and the objection to aUowing a Catholic service was so far well grounded, that the Spanish Ambassador had declared again and again that the first mass said publicly in England would be a signal for a general insurrection. And it is clear that what Elizabeth said was not regarded as in any sense fatally conclusive. Whether the Arch duke had or had not used the words imputed to him, he at least paused to consider. Eventually, neither he nor the Emperor would undertake the responsibUity of a decision till they had sent to consult Philip. While a messenger therefore was despatched to Spain, Sussex remained in state at Vienna, 'fed every day with eliz. in. N 178 History of England. Chap xiv spiced dishes from the Imperial table,' and ' dainty fruits ,567 from the gardens at Schonbrunn.' It was not till the November 24th of October that the Austrian Government — in possession at last of Philip's views — were in a position to enter upon the question, MaximUian declined to interfere, and left the decision fo his brother. The Archduke insisted at once that he could not go to England to be looked at, and then if the Queen did not like him, to find himself cast aside on this pretext of religion, He was afraid that religion would be made use of to cover less producible objec tions, and insisted on seeing his way clearly before going further. Sussex said, 'that although he had not Her Majesty's eyes, whereby he might judge of features that would best like her, he felt assured that she would find no just cause to satisfy the world why she should after sight mislike him.' But the Archduke had been long trifled with. He chose to know where he was standing, and if he went to England, Elizabeth should either accept him or be forced into the dis courtesy of passing a personal slight upon the Imperial House. He said he would not give up his religion, but he was whTing to abandon the open profession of it. He must hear mass, but it should be either privately in his room, or anywhere that the Queen might choose to appoint, and the world should know nothing of it. This was his only condition. If it were conceded, he would accompany the embassy to the English Court. Lord Sussex, who believed the marriage indispensable to Elizabeth's safety, reported the Archduke's words and added a hope that before she decided, ' God would send Her Majesty good advice.' If her consent would be dangerous to the Reformed faith; if public scandal The Reign of Elizabeth. 179 were likely to arise from it, no true friend to England, Chap xiv he said, would advise her to yield. If the real objections ~7^67 were taken away by the secresy, and there remained only Novembei 'an imaginary danger, not grounded upon reason,' then ' he that should dissuade her from an alliance which alone could defend her from many certain perils, would do an ill deed towards God, Her Majesty, and the Realm.'1 So Sussex wrote to the Queen. With CecU he was more explicit. The Archduke, he said, would allow no Englishman to attend the Catholic service or know that it existed. He promised ' to be advised by the Queen if pubhc offence should grow of it.' He would himself accompany Her Majesty to the services of the Established Church ; and he stipulated only that if he went to Eng land, and if on seeing him she disliked his person, she should not betray the engagements which he had offered to make. Sussex pointed out to Cecil what CecU knew as well as he — the pleasure which the marriage would give throughout England ; the hope of issue, ' with the avoiding of bloodshed in a disputed succession ; ' the security to the Queen's throne ; the advantages to her self ' of the companionship of a virtuous Prince;' ' the satisfaction of the nobility ;' the prospects which it would bring with it of universal peace in Europe ; the proba- bUity of the Prince's conversion, and the effect which that conversion would produce on the spread of the Gospel. ' Without it,' he concluded — and his words are most significant, — ' I foresee discontent, disunion, bloodshed of her people — perhaps in her own time, for this cause, and the ruin of the realm in the end ; which bloody time threateneth httle respect of rehgion, but much malice 1 Sussex to Elizabeth, October 24. — MSS. Germany, Rolls House. n 2 180 History of England. ' Chap xrv and revenge for private ambition on all sides ; which T^~~ many by wilful blindness for other respects will not see, November an(j yet pUt on Spectacles to search a scruple under colour of religion.'1 No words could have expressed more clearly the con viction which was forcing itself upon Elizabeth's states-, men, that the quiet which she had hitherto enjoyed was not to last much longer, and that some dangerous con vulsion or other was fast approaching. The disasters of the Queen of Scots were hastening the crisis. The Catholics had been patient in the expectation of the Scottish succession. Their cause was gaining ground everywhere in Europe. They had themselves been recruiting their numbers and recovering strength and confidence through the fear or the reluctance of the Queen to allow the laws to be enforced against them. They would not sit still under their disappointment, and if the succession question was to remain an open sore^ they would be drawn into intrigue, conspiracy, and rebellion. In his concluding words, Sussex evi dently referred to Elizabeth's evU genius, the Earl of Leicester, who, when it served his turn had been ready to swear by Philip and the Council of Trent, and who now, it seemed, had changed colours. In resentment at the determined hostility of the Catholic noblemen, Leicester had gone over to the Puritans, carrying or seeming to carry the Earl of Pembroke along with him.2 Caring only for his own miserable self, he had divided the Council upon the marriage with the cry of ' Popery;' 1 Sussex to Cecil, October 27. — gia ; y que le sigue el Conde de Pem- MSS. Germany, Rolls House. broke aquien han tenido por Catolico.' 2 ' Lo que mas aprieta los Catoli- — De Silva to Philip, December 1,— cos es ver que el Conde de Leicester MSS. Simancas. se ha mucho confirmado en la here- The Reign of Elizabeth. 181 frightened the bishops ; and set on Jewel to stir the Chap xiv passions of the London mob.1 1567 A Protestant panic was systematically kindled. The Novom er deposed Catholic prelates were placed in straiter con finement.2 Suspected houses in London were searched, and strangers found there were made to give account of themselves and their religion. Enghsh Catholics, who had attended mass at the Spanish Ambassador's chapel, were arrested and imprisoned.3 De Silva himself was supposed to have a concealed band of two thousand assassins ready to take arms. The judges were called before the Star Chamber, and ordered to enforce the laws against aU persons found possessed of books of Romish theology. Magistrates, and all other officials, were summoned to the bishops' courts, and offered the oath of allegiance; and steps were taken to eject per sons suspected of holding Catholic opinions out of the Royal household. Elizabeth remained passive. The excitement might be useful to her if she were to decide on rejecting the Archduke. When de SUva com plained, she professed ignorance of what was going 1 For the news which I know his coming in. . . . My Lord Cham- you are most anxious to hear of — berlain (LordHoward of Effingham), which is of the Duke Charles, and my Lord Admiral (Lord Clinton), of my Lord of Sussex's proceedings Mr. Secretary (Cecil), and Mr. Con- therein, there is and hath been such troller (Sir James Crofts), do wish his working to overthrow that, as the coming in. Whereupon Jewel made like hath not been — which is pitiful a sermon at Paul's Cross upon Sun- to hear of. The Council here at day was sennight, his theme being — this present are in manner divided " Cursed be he that goeth about to touching the same, and it is made a build again the walls of Jericho " — matter of religion, and they say they meaning thereby the bringing in of do it for conscience' sake. But God any doctrine contrary to this.' — Sir knoweth what conscience is in them G. S. to the Earl of Derby. Domestic which go about to hinder it. My MSS., Rolls House. Lord of Leicester, my Lord Steward s De Silva to Philip, November i. (Pembroke), my Lord Marquis (of — MSS. Simancas. Northampton), and the Vice Cham- 3 Same to the same, December i. berlain (Sir T. Heneage), be against 182 History of England. 1567 November Chap xiv on, and promised to put a stop to it ; but nothing was done, and she was so suspicious and sensitive, that he scarcely dared approach the subject with her. The irritation was at its height, when a report was spread that Philip had sailed for the Low Countries, that he was coming to England by the way, and might any day arrive at Portsmouth. What it meant none could tell. Lord Montague was directed to hold him self in readiness ' to wait on the King ' with all com modity for his refreshing, and Sir Adrian Poynings was sent down with troops to be ready ' for all events.' x The possibility of such a visit had been foreseen as early as August. The beacons were trimmed, the coasts were armed, and corps of matchlock volunteers had been formed along the Channel shores, with privUeges and exemptions, and prizes to encourage them to practise shooting.2 1 ' The King of Spain on his way to the Low Countries may pass through the narrow seas and per haps touch at Portsmouth — and because that town is a town of for tifications, and not so furnished with men as this case happening were meet and convenient for all events, three hundred men to be well sorted and appointed to attend upon Sir Adrian Poynings, and be disposed in places near about the town where they may be in readiness to be speedily sent for and used as the said captain shall think meet.' — Directions to Sir Adrian Poynings, August 27. Domestic MSS. 2 'In the port towns along the south and west from Newcastle to Plymouth a corpsto be formed of 4,000 harquebuss-men, to be taken from the artificers of each town, between the ages of 18 and 30, to be duly exercised and held ready for service when called upon. Every member of the corps to receive four pounds a year— out of the which at his own cost to provide a morion, a good substan-' tial harquebuss, with a compass stock of suchborethat every three shots may weigh one ounce; flask, touch-box, sword and dagger — a jerkin of cloth, open at the sides and sleeves, with a hood of the same cloth fastened tp the collar of the same jerkin. ' The Queen to provide ammunition. ' For the better alluring of men to the service, the persons joining to have certain immunities, estimations, and liberties ' — as ' to be called Har quebuss-men of the Crown — to wear a scutcheon of silver with a harque buss under a crown, and to be promised preferment in garrisons royal as places should fall vacant; to be free of the towns where they The Reign of Elizabeth. 183 Many of these precautions, as wise in themselves, Chap xiv were encouraged by Cecil — yet he exerted himself none ,j67 the less to thwart the unexpressed purpose for which November the panic was excited. True to the original principles of Henry VIII.'s reformation, the main body of the Enghsh nation had no sympathy with revolutionary fanaticism. They adhered to the political traditions, and the alliance with Spain. They looked coldly on the Huguenots ; coldly on ' the beggars ' of Flanders who had risen in arms to shake off the Inquisition. Genevan Protestantism was not to be established in England with out a civil war; and Cecil, good reformer as he was, was a better EngUshman. When the Archduke's pro^ posals arrived, the advocates of the marriage all con sidered that he had asked for nothing which ought not to be granted to him. ' My goodwill to the match ' — the Duke of Norfolk wrote to Cecil on the 15th of November — ' remains as firm as ever it was, and ' by the reasonable demand of the Archduke is more ' increased. There is no Prince of his calling, of his ' understanding, that would of himself, by advice, yield ' further upon uhcertainty than as I think by his offer ' he doth. If it were granted in the form that he re- ' quires it, I see not that any so great hurt shall grow ' thereby, as we are sure the whole fealm is like to incur ' if her Majesty's marriage with this Prince, in whom our dwell ; to pay no tenths, fifteenths, and every man's adventure to be but nor subsidies; to be free from all sixpence. town rates and from muster-rolls ' An old soldier in every town to except their own ; to have liberty to be sergeant. The use of the bow to shoot at certain fowl, with respect of be continued in villages — and plea- time and place, and withouthail shot, sant means to be used to draw the The magistrates to provide each year youth thereunto.' — Order for the era- public games of shooting; the best couragement of Harquebuss-men, No- prizes to be of twenty shillings at vember '3, 1567- Domestic MSS., least, the second fifteen shillings, Rolls House. 184 History of England. Chap xiv ' whole hope consists, should break off, and thereby leave I567 ' the whole realm desperate both of marriage and succes- November t sion — foe danger whereof you and I, as also the weU- ' wishers both to her Majesty and the realm, did so ' lately see and fear. If the matter may come to indif- ' ferent hearing, there wiU be as earnest Protestants that ' will maintain it, making not religion a cloke for every ' shower, as the other, perhaps for private practices ' naming one thing or minding another, wiU show reason ' to overthrow it.' x ' The private practices ' unfortunately had a formi dable advocate in Elizabeth herself. Elizabeth was never so good a Protestant as when religious zeal could save her from marriage, and Leicester's suit was never listened to more favourably than when his pretensions might serve to interrupt another man's. Four weeks of irresolution intervened before she would decide what to say. The influences which were brought to bear upon her can be gathered only from the anxieties of the Archduke's supporters, who saw their hopes faUing them. A second mysterious letter of the Duke's, on the 24th, implies certainly that Leicester was being too success ful. 'If matters being hot be so soon cooled,' he said, ' I pray God there grow no danger to them that you and I have much care of. I like not the practices that now so fast work. My ears have glowed to hear that I have ¦ heard within these two days concerning nuptial devices. First they mind to fight with their malicious tongues, and afterwards I warrant they wiU not spare weapons if they may.' 2 Bad news too had been sent by Cecil to Vienna. ' If 1 The Duke of Norfolk to Cecil. 2 Norfolk to Cecil, November 24. November 15. — Domestic MSS. — MSS. Ibid. November The Reign of Elizabeth. 185 Protestants be but Protestants,' wrote Sussex in re- Chap xiv ply, ' I mistrust not a good resolution. If some Pro- ,s67' ' testants have a second interest which they cloke with ' religion, and place be given to their council, God ' defend the Queen's Majesty with His mighty hand, ' and dispose of us all at His pleasure. It seemeth to me ' good reason and council that the Queen's Majesty ' should look to her own surety. God, if he have not ' forsaken us, wiU direct all to the best, and send her ' good council herein. And if He have forsaken us and ' wUl suffer our ruin, as I have done my best to procure ' the Queen's Majesty's marriage in this place, for con- ' science' sake — only, I take God to record, to defend her ' from perU — so if by the breach thereof her peril grow, ' I wUl end as I have begun, and spend my life in her ' defence how soon soever I be driven thereunto.' x Elizabeth, in resisting the importunacy of her early Parliaments on the subject of her marriage, had admitted that circumstances might occur which would require so great sacrifice at her hands. If it presented itself in the form of a duty, she had intimated that she would not then be found wanting in fulfilling her obligations to her subjects. That time had come — if ever it was to come. The wisest of her advisers were now making a final effort to prevent the imminent collision of parties and principles, certain to take place if she died — but too likely in her own lifetime, unless somethmg was done to give hope of an undisputed succession. They faded ; for what reason curiosity may speculate. ' The hearts of princes are unsearchable,' and the heart of Elizabeth was more intricate than those of most of her order. She hoped to conciliate the Catholics by playing tricks in 1 Sussex to Cecil, December 19. — MSS. Germany, Rolls House. 186 History of England. Chap xiv Scotland, and to make her own sovereign person sacred "7TZ~ in their eyes by declaring herself the champion of Mary December Stuart ; x and the result was a chain of conspiracies in which she was the perpetual mark for assassination. With the Archduke she was in her old difficulty. She knew that she ought to accept him. While the sacrifice was distant, she believed h'erself capable of making it; as it drew nearer, her constitutional dislike of marriage, and the excellences of the adored Leicester, unnerved her resolution. The letters of Sussex were in London on the ioth of November; on the nth of December Ehzabeth collected herself to reply. She had grave doubts, she said, whether the mass was not an offence against God. She could not go against her conscience, and even could she be satisfied that there would be no sin in complying, the political objections seemed unsurmountable. Secresy was impossible ; at aU events she could not consent without consulting the Peers. ' God had so far prospered her by keeping Eng land in peace, while Scotland, France, and Flanders were torn by war; and she minded still to please Him by continuing her whole realm in one manner of religion.' 1 'Archbishop Parker extracted were expected of them. The Apos- out of his two Catholic prisoners Dr. ties, they said, had always obeyed Boxall and Thirlby, the ex-bishop the Roman Emperors, and no Chris- of Ely, a general condemnation of tians except such wicked heretics as rebellion under all circumstances, Calvin, had held any other view except the One which the Arch- about it.' — De Silva to Philip, No- bishop forgot to mention — when the vember i, 1567. The Catholic doc- Prince to be resisted was excOm- trine On the subject was an ex- municated by the Pope. Parker in- tremely convenient' one. When a vited them to dinner, and asked them Sovereign was deposed by the Pope, afterwards to give then1 opinion he ceased to be a Sovereign. But the whether subjects Were justified, un- Bishop of Ely had forgotten that der any circumstances, in taking responsibility of Princes, to their arms against their sovereign. Of subjects had been preached in the course they gave the answers which broadest sense by Reginald Pole. The Reign of Elizabeth. 187 At the same time she was extremely anxious that the Chap xiv treaty should not be broken off : she could not concede lse7 the point in the form in which it had been placed before December her ; but ' it might be otherwise qualified with circum stances to avoid the danger.' If the Archduke could be induced to come over, the question could be settled in a few words. She desired Sussex to assure the Emperor how much she valued his friendship. If the one difficulty could be overcome, ' she declared that she so enter tained the marriage that nothing else could stop it, God Almighty assisting the same:' and at all events, the Archduke for the time of his stay in England ' should have the free exercise of his rehgion in such convenient form as he required.' x It seems that this last most reasonable condition had been distinctly insisted upon by PhUip : without it the Archduke could not possibly comply with the Queen's invitation. Had he received the promise given in these distinct words, he would in a few hours have been on his way to England; and had he once arrived, Elizabeth would have found it extremely difficult to escape from the marriage. She possibly felt this; for before the courier could leave, she had introduced a qualifying clause into the letter which at once destroyed the con fidence that her language otherwise would have reason ably created. Her suitor was to be allowed the use of his religion only ' so far as should be found possible.' The Archduke on receiving this message replied at once that he could not stir without a distinct engage ment. Sussex employed all his eloquence to remove his scruples. He said that there were so many people at home who were interested in preventing the marriage, 1 Elizabeth to Sussex, December u.— MSS. Germany. 188 History of England. Chap xiv that if he stood out he would give them a formidable 7^~i; advantage. If the Archduke woulol only accompany December ^im everything would be done which he desired, and all y objections would be removed. Lord Sussex insisted that he was too good a friend to the House of Austria to mislead him on such a point, or affect more certainty than he felt. But the Archduke was peremptory. If there was no other objection, he could not displease the King of Spain. MaximUian was generally gracious ; the Archduke was affectionate and confidential; but so far as insisting that during the first visit to England the Queen's expectant husband should not be made a heretic prematurely, they were both immoveable. In the pause which followed, an accidental circum stance of some importance required Sussex's presence in England. Leicester, as he well knew, was at the bottom of the whole difficulty ; and he believed that he could better counteract this pernicious influence in person. The occasion of his return was the close in death of the long iUness of Lady Catherine Grey. This poor lady had been guilty of being by the will of Henry VIII. the next heir to the Enghsh crown. She had been the object of the political schemes of all parties in turn who hoped to make use of her ; and she had committed the imprudence (as will be remembered) of contracting a secret marriage with Lord Hertford, which had fur nished an excuse for her perpetual imprisonment. She had sunk at length under hard treatment and separa tion from her husband, and had died a victim partly to the Queen's jealousy and partly to the hard conditions of the times. She had left two boys behind her of ambiguous legitimacy, and Sussex was required to assist in discussing the difficult questions which arose upon her decease. The settlement of the Austrian alliance, TTie Reign of Elizabeth. 189 however, was of far deeper moment : to this, on his chap xiv arrival in England, he immediately addressed himself ; ~^Z% and understanding well in what quarter he could alone Dec,ember o i to January work successfuUy, he went directly to Leicester. He believed that his remonstrances were not wholly thrown away. Leicester pretended to be moved ; but there were still doubts, manoeuvres, and deceptions. De SUva had long been satisfied that the Queen was in sincere from the beginning, and Sussex found but too surely that de Silva was right. If the pains which he had taken ended in nothing — if Leicester deceived him, and the Queen allowed herself to be misled by sinister persuasions into betraying the interests of the country — the Earl said he would publish to the world the names of those who had occasioned the failure ; the whole realm should know who the persons were that had laboured so fatally for its ruin. x Events moved too quickly to allow him to accomphsh his threat. The negotiations dropped once more and died away, and when years after Eliza beth would have again played the same game, the Arch duke refused to be any more the toy of her caprice, and gave his hand elsewhere. The calamities foUowed which Sussex had foreseen. Half the English peerage drifted into treason — the Catholics became the tools of the Jesuits, and Lord Surrey's son foUowed his father to the scaffold. The uncertainty of the succession which had been the prime occasion of Queen Catherine's divorce, of the rupture with Rome, of Henry's matrimonial disasters, was still the root of the reviving agitation. The Catho lics could have found no party to support them in an insurrection, had the political stability of the country been otherwise assured; and had the Catholics remained 1 De Silva to Philip, March 20, 1568. — MSS. Simancas. 190 History of England. Chap xiv quiet, there would have been no persecution of them to IS68 bring down the thunder of the Vatican and to provoke January tne long-suffering of Spain. The anxiety of PhUip for the restoration of the authority of Rome, great as it legitimately was, was not so great as his desire to maintain a firm and moderate government in England ; and Elizabeth might have remained in her own creed, undisturbed by interference from the Catholic Powers, if the internal peace had not been broken by discontents of which religion was but the secondary cause. One aspect of Elizabeth as she sailed along on the surface of this seething ocean — the eyes with which she looked around upon it, the language in which she talked about herself, her prospects, the attitude of foreign Powers, and her own marriage, — may be seen, in a letter of de Silva's written while she affected to be in suspense, before the return of Sussex, and after the rumours had been dispelled of the immediate coming of Philip. DE SILVA TO PHILIP II. 'January 17. ' I waited upon the Queen yesterday in behalf of your ' Majesty. I told her that your Majesty was in good ' health, at which she expressed a hvely pleasure. She ' asked about the state of Flanders : I informed her that ' I had received the most satisfactory assurances from the ' Duke of Alva and others in authority there, and that all ' was quiet. ' She then said that reports had reached her of some ' league or confederation, supposed to exist between the ' Pope, the Emperor, your Majesty, the King of France, ' and other Christian Princes, the object of which, was ' the settlement of religion, and in consequence, with a ' special direction againt herself. Her subjects believed The Reign of Elizabeth. 191 ' she took care to tell me that she herself did not — that Chap xiv ' your Majesty was coming yourself to England, to give ~568 ' her trouble and to force her back into submission to JanuaJy ' the Pope. ' I said that I was surprised at her listening to such ' extravagant nonsense. Those reports were circulated ' by persons who wished to cause estrangement between ' your Majesty and herself; to lead her to suspect your ' Majesty who had always been her friend, and to commit ' herself to the support of a fanatical party who would ' entangle her in a course of action by which she would ' forfeit the goodwiU with which your Majesty regarded ' her. Your Majesty might be wiUing at all times to ' resume your personal happy relations with her ; but ' these persons sought to force her into a position where ' your Majesty could not befriend her without first ' exacting satisfaction, and where she herself would be ' unable to credit your Majesty with the kind feelings ' towards her which in fact you entertained. ' " The story was," she said, " that as. soon as order ' had been restored in France, your Majesty, the Em- ' peror, and the French King intended to send a formal ' deputation to her, to request her to give up her religion' ' and return to communion with Rome ; to say that she ' had no right to make herself singular ; that while ' England remained in schism, the rest of Europe would ' never be at peace ; and that if she refused to consent, ' they would be forced to take arms against her, and ' make over her crown to some other person." ' " She did not think this likely," she said, " but if ' they tried any such game, they would find that she ' knew how to defend herself." She spoke with as much ' spirit as if the danger was already at her dcor. ' I told her it was all baseless nonsense — your Majesty 192 History of England. was her good friend, and would never be anything else, unless she herself gave occasion for it, which I was sure she would not do. Your Majesty did not covet other Princes' dominions, least of all hers. ' " It was not pretended," she replied, " that your Majesty aimed at anything beyond restoring the old religion. No other reason, she was well aware, would so far influence your Majesty." ' I said everything I could think of to quiet her. Your Majesty, I reminded her, had shown in all your actions that the chief object of your life was to resist the Turks, the common enemy of Christendom, and to be able to give account to God and the world of the coun tries which God had committed to your special charge. You meddled nowhere else, and had no wish to cause trouble and disturbance among your neighbours' sub' jects. This had been the uniform practice both of your Majesty and your predecessors, and I told her as her friend that she ought not to lend her ears to any such idle slanders. Especially, I trusted she would take no ill-considered step which might compel your Majesty to change your attitude towards her. She should not let herself be misled by those who made it their business to stir up sedition and move rebellion against Princes. I assured her positively that your Majesty would never injure her, or allow her to be injured. As to her religion, the Catholic Princes were not without good hopes of her. Your Majesty, for the love which you bore towards her, desired naturaUy to see her adopt what you believed to be the true creed ; but your Majesty was not the keeper of her conscience, and you would not expose yourself to the inconveniences which would arise from the dissolution of your'aUiance with England. ' This, I think, satisfied her, for she turned to other The Reign of Elizabeth. 193 ' subjects. Doubtless there are accursed people about Chap xiv ' her Court who feed her with suspicions — restless mali- I568 ' cious creatures on all sides of her. I advised her to Jauimry ' be cautious with them, or they would bring her into ' trouble. Her business, I told her, was to preserve ' peace at -home, and not to quarrel with her friends ' abroad. She confessed at last that those who most ' worried her were those whom she had most obliged, ' and who ought to have helped her in her difficulties. I ' said it was just what I expected. The Cathohcs were ' her firmest support, because the Catholics, as might be ' seen everywhere, were obedient to their Princes.' * It is necessary to insist that de Silva, in his account of Philip's feelings towards Elizabeth, was speaking the exact truth. Spain had endured a thousand injuries from the Enghsh buccaneers, for which no reparation had been made, and none was likely to be obtained ; yet sooner than quarrel with Ehzabeth and break an aUiance which his present relations with the Netherlands made more than ever necessary to him, he submitted to intolerable wrong ; he bore with his sister-in-law's heresy ; he stood between her and the Pope ; he was deaf to the clamours of her Catholic subjects, believing, or trying to believe, that the grace of God might at last work upon her. When he received de Silva's account of the conversation, he approved with undisguised emphasis of aU which had been said in his name.' ' He was,' he said, ' and he always would be, the sincere friend of that poor Princess, who he trusted would at no distant period return to her senses, and for whose conversion he would never cease to labour.' 2 1 De Silva to Philip, January 17. 2 Philip to de Silva, February, —MSS. Simancas. ' iS6i.— MSS. Simancas. ELIZ. HI. 0 CHAPTER XV. Chap XV . 1567 IN the first measures directed against the Queen of Scots Catholic and Protestant had acted together- She had outraged her old friends by having consented to be married with Calvinistic forms. Of the Reformers not one had been deluded to her side by her seeming apostasy from Rome. The establishment of the Govern- men of the Earl of Murray threw back the two parties into their natural antagonism. The disaffected noble- ment might seem to submit, but their hostility to the Regent, if unavowed, was no less determined. As the Queen had not been put to death, her restoration, at least to liberty, was regarded by every one as, sooner or later, inevitable ; and as the Hamiltons saw themselves cut off from the advantages which they expected from her destruction, it remained to them to make the best of their position, to faU back on the alternative which Throgmorton supposed that they would have originally preferred. They resolved to carry out the scheme for which they had called the unsuccessful meeting at Glas gow, to refuse to recognise the abdication, and as soon as Bothwell could be disposed of by death or divorce, to make a fourth husband for Mary Stuart out of the Lord of Arbroath, the heir-presumptive of their house. While, therefore, Argyle, Huntly, Herries, and the rest of their The Reign of Elizabeth. 195 friends made terms with Murray, Arbroath himself, with Chap xiv his uncle the Archbishop of St. Andrews and Lord iS67 Fleming, shut themselves up in Dumbarton, calculating either on the eventual armed support of Elizabeth, or on some turn in the revolving wheel of French politics which would bring the Court under the control of the Guises. The Duke of Chatelherault remained in Paris, representing steadUy to Catherine de Medici that it was to him and his famUy, and not to the Protestants, that France must look for the recovery of its hold upon Scot land. Parties, he said, would subside into their proper relations as soon as Ehzabeth's preposterous attitude should end, as end it must. Elizabeth was for the pre sent threatening the Scotch Reformers in the hope of pleasing Spain and her own CathoUc subjects ; while the French Court was supporting them under Huguenot influence, because the Huguenots looked for popularity in France by bringing back the Scots to their old alliance. But aU this was but temporary — a mere eddy in the real stream ; and Catherine was but deluding herself if she expected that tendencies so utterly anomalous would in the end prevail. So the Duke argued, not altogether with success. Catherine, like her husband Henry, was indifferent which party among her subjects she made use of, so France gained strength by it ; and there was a sympathy between the Scotch Calvinists and the Hugue nots which both refused to the colder ritualism of Eng land. She preferred to watch and wait till Elizabeth perhaps might drive Murray into accepting the hand which so far she had held out to him in vain.1 In spite of the Hamiltons' incredulity, Elizabeth per sisted tUl she had all but produced this very result. As if 1 Elizabeth's principal difficulty in land arose from a doubt whether raising a party for the Queen in Scot- she would be able to act upon her o2 196 History of England. Chap xv to prove that she was sincere in her present professions, I56y she proposed to Catherine to unite with her in closing the ports of both France and England against the Scots — that ' the people being letted from their traffic,' might rise against the Government.1 Catherine of course re fused. Elizabeth found that if she moved she must move alone; and either the agitated condition of her own country, her own prudence, or the refusal of the CouncU to countenance hostilities, held her back from committing herself by overt interference. She gave general assurances to the Hamiltons, which prevented them from surrendering Dumbarton; but at this point she restrained herself, and Murray felt himself growing daUy stronger in his seat. The sale of part of the Queen's jewels gave him funds for his immediate neces sities.2 own feeling, however strong they might be. On the 20th of Septem ber Herries wrote to Lord Scrope : — 'I have received writings from my Lords of St. Andrews and Arbroath in answer to Sir N. Throgmorton's letters. Because they are not sure of the Queen's Grace's mind, your Sovereign, they dare not be plain. Howbeit it is the thing they most desire, and if they may see help assuredly they will do their utter power.' And again, September 21 : — ' If there be any hope the Queen's Majesty of England will take to do in this cause, I pray your Lordship advertise me. I believe if her Grace would enter into the matter, the Regent and the Lords, neither would nor durst refuse such appointment as her Highness thought good should be made, if it were but only they under stood she would bend her mind to have it so : except they understandthe nobility of England would not assist the Queen therein.' — Border MSS. September, 1567. 1 Elizabeth to Sir H. Norris ; Sep tember 27. Printed in Keith. 3 Every step in Murray's adminis tration — and therefore this among the rest — has been a subject for his torical reprobation. Yet the sale in itself would seem too simple to re quire to be defended. Mary Stuart was held to have forfeited her crown, and in justice to have forfeited her life. She left behind her jewels of great value, an empty treasury, and a country in a state of anarchy. The Regent, with the consent of the Scotch Parliament, availed himself of a resource which he could use without distressing the people. . . No secret was made of it. ' The Regent,' Sir Wm. Drury wrote on the 30th of September, ' is very bare of money. The Reign of Elizabeth. 197 So far as his ability reached 'he dealt very roundly ChapXV and sharply.' The Earls of Argyle and Huntly raised IS67 no difficulties, and opposed him in nothing ; the country settled into quiet, and Mary Stuart herself ceased to complain of her confinement. Fascinating the household of Lochleven, and even winning over by her charms the austere mother of the Regent, she recovered her health and her spirits. Those who had been loudest in their outcries against her began to soften and make excuses for her errors.1 The reaction of feeling which Maitland had foretold to Throgmorton as a reason for severity, set in even sooner than it was expected. She became, in the severe language of the Puritan Bedford, ' merry and wanton ; ' 2 and in default of other occupation, she amused her lonely hours with the adoration of the younger brother of the Lord of the Castle, George Douglas.3 ' The Regent made fair weather with her,' as a step towards restoring her to The Queen's jewels shall to gage, if Reyne Mire a M. de la Forest, May , not sold outright, if a chapman or a 21. Cf. M. de la Forest a la Reyne lender upon reasonable interest may Mire, May 2 and May 15. — Tbtjiet, be gotten.' — Border MSS. 1567- vol. ii. A case of pearls was brought to Elizabeth afterwards called Murray London in the spring of 1568. After to account for the remainder. Murray some hesitation, they were purchased answered : ' This I may boldly affirm for 12,000 crowns by Elizabeth; and unto your Highness, that neither I she, too, has fallen in for her share of nor any friend of mine has been en- consequent obloquy. The proceed- riched with the value of a groat of ing seemed so little improper to any her goods to our private uses. Catherine de Medici that she wrote Neither, as God knows, did the to her ambassador in England in the ground and occasion of any of my following words: — ' Quant au bagues actions proceed of sic a mirfd.' — de la Reyne d'Escosse, et desquelles Murray to Elizabeth, October 6,^15 68. la Reyne d'Angleterre a retenu les MSS. Scotland. perles, comme vous m'avez despuis 1 Drury to Cecil, September 30. ' mande", il n'est plus de besoing de 2 Bedford to Cecil, October 23. — vous mectre en pique ; pour ce que Border MSS. je desire qu'elle les retienne toutes 3 Drury to Cecil, November 28. — comme ilest bien raisonable : et sije Ibid, les avoiz je les luy envoy erois.'—Xa 198 History of England. ChapXV liberty,1 and Scotland was already forgetting its indig- I567 nation in sentimental compassion. December -§ov wag foere even wanting a more legitimate cause for the revulsion. The guilt of the murder had been rested wholly on Bothwell and the Queen. As the persons concerned in it were successively caught and examined, many great names appeared in their confessions, as more or less implicated, and such facts could not wholly be con cealed from the world. Bonds were mentioned, which unfortunately were still in existence, signed by the most powerful of the nobility. Hepburn of Bolton, one of the last of Bothwell's servants who had been brought to trial, spoke distinctly to having seen one of them. Ormiston, another of the murderers, swore to the same names; and Hepburn charged Sir James Balfour with having contrived the whole conspiracy. Whatever care might be taken to keep these depositions secret, it was impossible to prevent some hints of what they contained from leaking out ; and men began to ask why, when so many were guilty, the Queen should have been left to bear the burden alone? 2 A measure, which the Lords had not intended, but which circumstances forced upon them, aggravated the growing feeling. The deposition of a Sovereign, the coronation of a child, the constitution of a Regency, made it necessary that Parliament should meet. The reviving sympathy with the Queen made every one who had taken part in the revolution anxious to provide for his safety ; and with regard to the murder itself, there was a general desire, in which Murray probably shared, to punish Bothwell and his instruments, but to drop a 1 Drury to Cecil, November 28.— EmbajadorGuzman de Silva.— MSS. Border MSS. Simancas. 8 Avisos de Escocia que envia el The Reign of Elizabeth. 199 veU over the. guUt of others whose acquiescence in his Chap xv government was essential to its stability. ' 6 The famous casket which, till Murray's return from Deceniber France, had been in the hands of Morton, was by him on the 1 6th of September placed in the charge of the Regent. The Regent undertook that the letters and writings which it contained should ' always be ready and forthcoming to the Earl of Morton and the re maining noblemen that entered into the quarrel,' in case the world should call on them 'to manifest the ground and equity of their proceedings.' 1 The writings which it was desirable to keep were tLose only which affected the Queen and BothweU. If, as iiiere is reason to believe, the Craigmillar Bond was in the casket also, the destruction of it was as much a matter of moment to those whose names were written on it as the pre servation of the rest. Hepburn, on the scaffold, men tioned the Bond, and insisted that it would be found, if BothweU's papers were searched.2 It would be asked for, and the existence of it was dangerous to all parties, for Huntly's and Argyle's names were on it as well as Maitland's. The Parliament was to open in December. A preliminary meeting of the Lords was held at the end of November. Their first act, as Sh* WUliam Drury on the 28th informed Cecil, was to reduce the dangerous document to ashes.3 The act itself was eminently natural. To have permitted it, may pass for a blot on Murray's escutcheon, if the paper was ever in his hands ; more probably, it was 1 Records of the Scottish Council, chiefs for the murdering of the King printed in Anderson's Collection. is turned to ashes ; the same that 2 Avisos de Escocia, MSS. Siman- concerns the Queen's part kept to be cos. shewn.' — D> .. -y to Cecil, November 3 'The writing which did compre- 28. Border KS8. hend the names and consents of the 200 History of England. ChapXV never aUowed to reach his eyes. Yet even if it was is67 done with his fuUest consent, his conduct might well be December ^efende(j. To punish every one who was tainted with complicity in the murder was simply impossible. To attempt it would be to break up the Government, to sur render Scotland to civil war, to foreign invasion, and to a future in which nothing was certain but its misery. In the people who were rising into power beyond the circle of the Lords, there was a fervid and deep-toned religion — but it was Calvinism in its hardest form,— Calvinism moulded on the Israelitish pattern, fierce, ruthless, and unmanageable. The nobles themselves were, for the most part, without God, creed, or princi ple ; whUe England and France — keen observers of all that passed — were ready, each or both of them, to step in on the first sign of internal confusion. There was still in Scotland a small minority of wise, upright, noble-minded men, who would have stood by Murray had there been any chance that' Murray could himself stand if he took another course. But to do this he must have been able to say to Elizabeth, ' Thus I am placed, and thus is Scotland placed ; help us through these dark entanglements, and earn the gratitude of every Scot who has the fear of God in his heart.' Such words would have found a response in Cecil, but he might as weU, and weU he knew it, have tried to melt with his eloquence the rock of Edinburgh Castle as the English Queen. To the modern student, the guilt of all parties who were implicated in Darnley's murder appears very much the same. To those who were bred up in that wild age and life, a stab with a dirk was an ordinary exodus out of life, an ordinary feature of passionate revenge ; while the conspiracy of a faithless wife and Dacember The Reign of Elizabeth. 201 the assassination of an inconvenient husband were crimes Chap xv which had been always infamous. ,567 The Lords would, perhaps, have extended the amnesty to the Queen, and Murray obviously wished that this should be done; yet the exigencies and the danger of the other culprits again prevented even justice. The Lords were liable to be called in question by the European Powers for dethroning their sovereign. The union among themselves — ill-cemented as it was — might dissolve, or a revolution might restore Mary Stuart to the throne, by the aid of one or other of the many factions among themselves. Their mutual security required that they should all commit themselves to an approval of the Queen's dethronement, and to a formal statement of the grounds on which it had been carried out. They were ready to defend, as they called it, the Queen's honour ; to keep secret among themselves the proofs which they possessed of her criminality ; but they could afford no mysteries one towards the other ; and it seemed impos sible, with a sufficient regard to theh' own safety, to avoid passing some formal censures upon her. A second meeting was held on the 4th of December, to consider how in case the Queen's deposition should be approved in Parliament, ' perfect law and security might be had ' for those who were concerned in forcing it upon her. Among the persons present were Murray, Glencairn, Semple, Grange, — of all the Protestant leaders the least capable of dishonourable conduct. Maitland and Balfour were there also, the two who had most to conceal. The Regent was already shrinking from Maitland, not liking his ' pohtic ' and crooked ways,1 but he could not do 1 Throgmorton, writing to Sir land,' he said, was a man of great Robert Melville, deplores the grow- ability, and the Regent ' wronged ing differences between them. 'Mait- himself in not making larger use 202 - History of England. Chap xv without him ; and ' after a long reasoning, no other way ' Ij67" to their object could be found ' but, as they said, by December 0penmg and revealing the truth and ground of the whole matter, from the beginning, plainly and uprightly.' ' So far as the manifestation thereof might tend to the dis honour of the Queen, they were most loath to enter on it ;' but ' the sincerity of their intentions could not otherwise be made known ; ' ' there was so much un certainty at home and abroad ' that ' the world could by no other means be satisfied of the righteousness of their quarrel ; ' ' God would suffer no wickedness to be hid, and all actions founded not on the simple and naked truth had no continuance nor stability.' x The crime which Maitland had contemplated was so different from, and, as he regarded it, so much more innocent than, that which had been actually perpe trated, that he may have employed this language with out any scruple of conscience. The publication itself was no more than he had told the English Ambassador that Elizabeth would force upon them. The Parliament met on the 15th of December. Four bishops, fourteen abbots, twelve earls, fifteen lords, three eldest sons of earls, and thirty ' burrows ' were present ; a number of the representatives of the Com mons without precedent in Scotch history. A series of Acts embodying the resolutions of the Council were prepared by the Lords of the Articles— among whom were Huntly and Argyle.2 of his services. He admitted, how- Word of God.'— Throgmorton to ever, that Maitland had an ' intoler- Melville, May 6, 1568. Tut/let. ably ' high opinion of himself, and vol. ii. desired to dictate in everything x Act of Secret Council, Dec. 4.— according to worldly policy, while Burghley Papers vol. i. the ^Regent endeavoured 'to direct 2 The share taken by' these two all his conduct immediately by the noblemen in preparing the Acts of The Reign of Elizabeth. 203 The abdication at Lochleven, the coronation of James, Chap xv and the Regency of Murray were successively declared i567 to have been lawful ; and lastly, in an Act ' anent the December retention of their Sovereign Lord's mother's person,' the genuineness of the evidence by which her share in the murder was proved, was accepted as beyond doubt or question. When the measure was laid before Par Uament, Lord Herries, with one or two others, protested, not against the truth of the charges, but 'against an Act which was prejudicial to the honour, power, and estate of the Queen.' : But their objections were overruled. The Acts were passed ; the last and most important declaring 'that the taking of arms by the Lords and Barons, the apprehension of the Queen's person, and generally all other things spoken and done by them to that effect, since the ioth of February last period, were caused by the said Queen's own default.' 'It was most certain, from divers her privy letters, ' written whoUy with her own hand to the Earl of Both- ' weU, and by her ungodly and dishonourable proceeding ' to a pretended marriage with him, that she was privy ' art and part of the device and deed of the murder, and ' therefore justly deserved whatever had been done to this ParUament heve an impor- tional on the Queen's acquiescence, tant bearing on the authenticity of and they published a statement in the Casket Letters. The letters which they accused Murray of having formed the chief ground on which beenprivytotheniurder:yettheysaid one of the Acts was based. Lord nothing about a forgery of the letters, Huntly was repeatedly mentioned which, if real, they could not but have in them, with details of his conduct, known ; and had they been able to which could have been known to no prove — had they been able even one but himself and the Queen ; and plausibly to assert — that there had had no such conversations taken been foul play against the Queen, place as the Queen described, no one the whole of Europe would at once could have contradicted them more have declared on her side. easily. Argyle and he, indeed, de- * Herries to Mary Stuart. — Tetjlet, clared that their assent was condi- vol. ii, p. 387. 204 History of England. Chapxv 'her. Indirect counsel and means had been used to 1568 ' hold back the knowledge of the truth, yet aU men were January , fuUy perguaded in their hearts of the authors and ' devisers of the fact. The nobility perceiving the Queen ' so thrall and so blindly affectionate to the private ' appetite of the tyrant, and perceiving also that both 'he and she had conspired together such horrible ' cruelty, they had at length taken up arms to punish 'them.'1 At first it was proposed to send a copy of this Act to the Courts of France, Spain, England and the Empire, to accompany it not with the letters, but with the independent evidence of those who had directly accused the Queen — for instance, with Hepburn's 2 — and to enquire what, in the opinion of the great Powers, was the conduct they ought to pursue. Had their hands been clean they might have done it. Mary Stuart's cause would have been judged freely by her peers, ahd her name would have vanished out of history; but the experiment, except in part, was too dangerous to risk. Having done with the Queen, the Parliament went on to re-enact the great measure of 1560 for the establish ment of the Kirk. Here it was that the reaction of 1 Acts of Parliament begun at that if sent it must be sent entire, and Edinburgh. December 15.— Ander- that he had told too much. There son's Collection. was already dissatisfaction in Scot- 2 'Juan Hepburn de Bolton ha land at the supposed mutilation of acusado a, la Reyna del homicidio, Hepburn's depositions. Men asked y los Seflores tienen determinado ' porque Juan Hepburn de Bolton y de enviar a, todos los grandes Princi- los otros no fueron compelidos a pes asi a la Reyna como a todos los declarar publicamente la manera demas de la Xdad, para tener su de la muerte del Rey, y quienes parecer ado proceder attento el delicto fueron los que consintie"ron en ella.' de la muerte desu marido.' Hepburn's Avisos de Eseocia, 7 de Enero 1568. evidence, as it is published, does not — MSS, Simancas, touch the Queen. It wasfound perhaps The Reign of Elizabeth. 205 the last seven years became conspicuous, and the ChapXV opposition to the Regent, which barely showed itself in i56g the interest of the Queen, appeared in formidable dimen- January sions. The Catholic noblemen might have been con ciliated with toleration, but toleration formed no part of Murray's or any other sincere creed in the 16th cen tury. He insisted that the Catholic religion should be prohibited under pain of death in aU parts of Scotland ; and he carried his point, but at a heavy cost. Caith ness and Athol, and the Bishop of Murray, spoke freely and indignantly for the rights of conscience, and the large minority which supported them went over in a body at the close of the session to the side of disaffec tion and the Hamiltons. Compromises there indeed were ; but compromises which sought to save the purity of the faith at the expense of honour and integrity. The Acts against the Queen professed to teU the whole truth, and told but half of it. A Commission was appointed to consider the Umits of the Jurisdiction of the Kirk. Maitland, who believed in nothing, and Balfour, who had been rewarded for his treachery to Bothwell by the Priory of Pittenweem, sate upon it by the side of Knox, and Craig, and Spotswood. The strangeness of the picture received a new touch in the pubhc shame which the General Assembly dared to inflict on the proudest of the Scotch nobles, and which the great McCallummore consented to accept at its hands. To punish the Bishop of Murray for his conduct in Parliament, a charge of adultery was brought against him, for which he stood in sackcloth in the Chapel Royal at Stirling during the service. ' At his side stood the Earl of Argyle, in like raiment, for the like offence,' and the Countess of Argyle also, the 20(5 History of England. ChapXV Regent's sister, 'for having slandered the Kirk in "7^~ assisting at the baptism of the King in Papistical January manner.' X The most confident historian may weU distrust his ability either to understand or to reproduce the temper of an age in which such a scene was possible. The public disgrace of high-born sinners, however, could hardly have assisted in producing the peace for which so much else was sacrificed ; and something of the storm about to break over Scotland may be traced to an absence of worldly wisdom in the new-born Church. Nevertheless neither the political nor the spiritual mischiefs which resulted from the Parliament were immediately visible. The Regent seemed to have tided over his most pressing difficulties. The great nobles were outwardly on good terms with him; a marriage was talked of between his daughter and a son of Lord Huntly, and between Lady Murray's sister and a brother of Argyle. The session closed on the 29th of December. On the 3rd of January Dalgleish, Powrie, Hepburn, and Hay of TaUo were hanged and quartered. A day or two after Nicholas Elphin- stone, Murray's confidential secretary, carried copies of the Acts to Ehzabeth, with explanations, so far as explanation was possible, of the grounds on which they had been passed. Elizabeth's anger would now have had time to cool, and it was hoped that on a quiet view of the situation she would be induced to take Scotland under her protection, acknowledging the Regency, and win the heart of the whole nation by adopting James as her successor at last.2 1 Avisos de Escocia, 7 Enero. — MSS. Simancas. Report of the General Assembly, December 25. — Calderwood. 2 M, de la Forest au Roy, Feb. 2, 1568. Textlei, vol. ii. The Reign of Elizabeth. 207 For his sister Murray's hope was that by some obscure Chap xv marriage she might at once disappoint the Hamiltons ,s6g and give security to the country for her future behaviour. His mother had looked with interested favour on the intimacy which was growing between her younger son and the Queen. Mary Stuart, either to relieve the lassitude of her confinement, or more probably to secure the services of a devoted slave to assist her escape, had allowed Lady Douglas to beheve that she was thinking seriously of taking him for her husband, and Lady Douglas was entirely wUling that he should be promoted to so questionable an honour. The Regent, however, more aware than his mother of the construction which the world would place on such an arrangement, refused to hear of it. George Douglas was sent from the castle to pine lovesick into treason, and the Regent cast hjs thoughts upon Lord Methuen, grandson of the Methuen who was the third husband of Margaret Tudor, as a person whose insignificance would keep Mary Stuart in the shade, and hold down her restlessness in innocent retirement. x But neither was the Queen of Scots to be disposed of by any such placid arrangement, nor was Murray to reap so quiet a harvest from the seed which had been sown at the Parhament. A doubt was gathering over his probity through the concealment of BothweU's ac complices ; and the noble families of Scotland were eager to revolt against the despotic assumptions of the Kirk. The severity of Murray's administration made an enemy of every man who had cause to fear the hand of justice. Elizabeth resisted his advances with a steadi ness which forced him, in spite of himself, to look to 1 De Silva to Philip, April 24, 1568.— ilf/Stf. Simancas. Drury to Cecil, April 1568.— Border MSS. 208 History of England. ChapXV France at last for support;1 but his application came ~<^~ at a time when the returning influence of the Guises was inclining Catherine once more to the side of her daughter-in-law. Cecil continued to press on Ehzabeth the prudence of maintaining the young king, but Elizabeth remained im practicable. Cecil, in his own letters to Murray, durst not give him the title of Regent, and rumour, busy in aggra vating the differences between Murray's party and Eng land, reported that the Earl had taken offence at the slight upon his dignity.2 There was no fear that Murray and Cecil would permanently misunderstand each other, but the Queen would allow no kind of approach between the Governments of the two countries. Elphinstone went to and fro with messages and counter-messages, but Elizabeth recognised him only so far as to buy the Queen of Scots' pearls of him; and, at length, to con sent that the Wardens of the English Marches should transact business with the de facto administration. Towards Elphinstone himself she showed characteristic displeasure. AU the protests of the CouncU could not induce her to make the usual allowance for his post horses, and Throgmorton could but hope that ' so good a gentleman would not, for his particular Ul-treatment, 1 In April Murray sent an agent s Murray, when the story reached to Paris to tell the Queen-mother him, wrote : ' For style or title, I am, and the King that, except for the praise to God, nothing curious or hope that they would assist him, he ambitious of them — my travail tend- would never have undertaken the ing unto another form, that is, next government. He undertook to main- to God's glory, to entertain the peace, tain the French alliance, and begged and minister justice to my Sove- that none of the Queen's French con- reign's subjects so long as it shall nexions should be allowed to come please God that I sustain the over to trouble the peace of Scotland, burden.' — Murray to Cecil, Feb- — Mimorandum dun agent de Mur- ruary 28, 1568. Burghley Papers, ray, envoy 6 vers le Roy de France et la vol. i. Reine Mere. Tetjlet, vol. ii. p. 349. The Reign of Elizabeth. 209 do anything which might mar the good intelligence ChapXV betwixt the realms, however sufficient cause there might 1568 have been to put that devotion to hazard.' x France sent but cold answers. In the past autumn Catherine could not find words strong enough to ex press her indifference to her daughter-in-law or her goodwUl to the Administration by which she had been deposed. Now, after a short uncertainty,2 the balance inclined again to Mary Stuart. In the place of the Huguenot de LigneroUes, M. de Beaumont, a Guisian and a CathoUc, was sent to Scotland to mediate in the Queen's interests; or, in other words, if the Regent would not consent to his suggestions, to recognise and assist the HamUtons. Under these circumstances it could not be but that some effort would before long be made for Mary Stuart's release. So long as she remained in Lochleven a rising in arms in her cause would probably be the signal for her death; but with the assistance of George Douglas she was in close correspondence with her friends. She had confederates in the castle, and was kept aware of all the efforts which were being made in her favour. As the hold of the Regent upon Scotland grew weaker, a general sense prevailed that she would not be much longer a prisoner — either she would escape, or her brother himself would be obliged to let her go. The com promises at the Parhament had faUed of their effect after all. Murray had entangled himself in crooked ways to 1 Throgmorton to Sir Wm. Drury, sentences, is most markedly favour- May 6. — Tetjlet, vol. ii. able to Mary Stuart. "Which of the 2 The reply of the French Court two was sent does not appear ; but to Murray's memorial is preserved in the tide was turning, and the second two drafts of a letter, one of which represented the intended policy of was a mere acknowledgment that the Queen-mother. — Tetjlet, vol. ii. it had been received; the other, by p. 371. the addition and alteration of a few ELIZ. III. P 210 History of England. Chap xv reconcile Argyle and Huntly to the Regency; but when T^T" the papers which committed them were in the flames, March they followed their natural tendencies, and swayed back to the Hamiltons and the Catholics. He had succeeded only in offending the noblest of his own friends, and the world believed that he would either fall or come to an arrangement with his sister. Neither she, however, nor the Hamiltons desired that she should purchase her freedom by any fresh engagements; and throughout the spring successive plans were formed and tried for her escape.1 At first it was proposed to carry her off by a coup-de-main. There were but thirty effective men in the garrison. A heavy barge was kept on the lake to cany supplies to the island, and the crew had agreed to ferry over an armed party sixty or seventy strong, who coming suddenly on the guard, could easily overpower them. A Frenchman in the Queen's service, who had not been admitted into the secret, discovered something of what was going on, and supposing it to be a con trivance of the Protestant fanatics to take her out of Murray's hands and destroy her, he gave a hint to Sir "William Douglas; the barge was broken up, and for the future a skiff, sculled by a single pair of hands, was alone allowed to approach the island. One person was more easy to deal with than many. The solitary boatman was next bribed ; a foundling page in the castle, who had been adopted by the Laird of Lochleven, and called after him the Little Douglas, undertook to seduce 1 The story in the text, which escape, and was sent by her imm9- differs in seme' respects from that diately after to London and Paris to which is commonly received, is the communicate the particulars of it. account given by young Be ton to De Silva to Philip, June—. MSS. the Spanish Ambassador in Lcmdon. Simancas. Beton assisted personally in her The Reign of Elizabeth. 211 April the sentinels, open the gate in the night, and bring the Chap xv Queen to the waterside.1 This plan, too, threatened to 1568 fail. Sir WUliam Douglas, through some suspicion of the man, dismissed him, and appointed another; but he fortunately quarrelled with the substitute after a few days' trial, replaced the first, and all was thus made easy again.2 The outer gate of the castle was every day locked at sunset, the keys were brought to Douglas, and were laid on the table at his side. On the evening of the second of May, between eight and nine — perhaps 1 Another story was told by Sir Wm. Drury, and was repeated by de Silva to Philip. De Silva's words are a mere translation of Drury's, and he had evidently no other authority for what he was -writing. Drury's words are : — ' On the 25th of March she enterprised an escape, and was rather the nearer effect through her accustomed long lying in bed all the morning. The manner of it was thus : There cometh in to her the laundress, early, as at other times before she was wonted, and the Queen according to such a secret practice putteth on her the weed of the laundress, and so with the fardel of clothes, and the muffler upon her face, passeth out and entereth the boat to pass the loch. After some space, one of them that rowed said merrily, "Let us see what manner of dame this is," and therewith offered to pull down her muffler, which to defend she put up her hands, which they spied to be very fair and white ; wherewith they entered into suspicion who she was, beginning 'to wonder at her enter prise; whereat she was little dis mayed, but charged them upon danger of their lives to row her over, which they nothing regarded, but eftsoons rowed her back again, promising her that it should be secreted, and especially from the lord of the house under whose guard she lieth.' — Drury to CecU, April 3. MSS. Border. This is highly picturesque, and under some aspects carries with it internal probability. Circumstantial legends too require time for their growth, and Drury's letter was written within eight days of the date which he gives for the attempt; on the other hand, Beton, who was employed all the spring in arranging the plan, says nothing of it, and it seems unlikely that such a venture would have been risked unless the boatmen had been prepared. Pos sibly, however, they might have been detained by some accident at the castle, and others sent across in their places. This supposition would harmonise better with the rest of the story, and the conduct attributed to Mary is extremely like her in all respects. 2 De Silva says that Lady Loch leven herself had been gained over, which is possible^ but not likely. 212 History, of England. Chapxv in the waning light, when the torches were not yet iS68 kindled, when the wine made eyes dim and ears heavy — ^ay the little page, who stood behind him, covered the keys with a plate, and swept them off the board unobserved. He" glided out, and crossed the court to the round tower. The Queen was waiting in the dress of one of her, servants, and with a little girl at her side, walked quietly with him to the gate. Four or five men were standing about, but the light was faint, and they were supposed only to be two of the castle women who were going on shore.1 They passed out uninterrupted, the page locking the gate behind him. They sprang into the skiff, carried off the oars and rowlocks from the castle boats,' to make pursuit impossible, and in a few minutes they were on shore.2 George Douglas, young Beton, and the Laird of Ricarton, a kinsman of BothweU, were waiting for them. After walking a mile, they found a party of cavaliers, who had emptied Lochleven's stables to mount them selves, and had provided a horse for the Queen. A few yards further was Lord Seton with fifty servants. There was not a moment to lose. The country was all Protes tant, and might be raised by beacons. The girl who had been the companion of the flight was left behind — there were no means of taking her away, and as the Queen , was free, she said, 'they might do what they would . | In an Italian account printed by half a mile off,- it is extremely un- Labanoff, it is said that the Queen likely that there would have been wore a white veil with a red fringe, any signalling. which on getting out she waved as 2 Don Francis de Alava says that a preconcerted signal to her friends in case he had failed to secure the on shore. Mr. Tytler accepts so keys, the little page had made a picturesque an incident, but Beton ladder with a couple of oars lashed is silent. If , the. light would have together.— Alava to Philip, May 22. allowed such a thing to be seen Teitlet, vol. v. The Reign of Elizabeth. 213 with her.' Off shot the troop — off and away into the OhapXV darkness ! Eleven months had passed since Mary 1568 JVlii v li Stuart had been in the saddle, but confinement had not relaxed the sinews which no fatigue could tire. Neither strength nor spirit failed her now. Straight through the night they galloped on, and drew bridle first at Queen's Ferry. Claud HamUton, with fresh horses, was on the other side of the Forth, and they sprang to their saddles again. A halt was allowed them at Lord Seton's house at Long Niddry, but the Queen required no rest. While the men were stretch ing their aching legs, Mary Stuart was writing letters at her table. She wrote a despatch to the Cardinal of Lorraine, and sent a messenger off with it to Paris. She sent Ricarton to collect a party of the Hepburns and recover Dunbar, bidding him when the castle was secured, go on to BothweU, and tell him that she was free. Two hours were spent in this way, and then to horse again. Soon after sunrise she was at HamUton among her friends.1 Ricarton missed Dunbar; Lord Hume was too quick for him ; but at HamUton it must have seemed as if the loyal hearts of the Scottish nation had sprung to life to greet their sovereign. There were two Scotlands — then as for centuries to come — as perhaps at the present hour; the Scotland of Knox and the Assembly, the Scotland of the Cathohcs and Mary Stuart ; the Scotland of feudahsm and the Scotland of democracy and the middle classes ; the Scotland of chivalry and sentiment, the Scotland of hard sense and Puritan austerity. Those who now raUied to the standard of the Queen 1 News from Scotland, May 9 — de Escocia se libro de la prision. — MSS. Scotland, Rolls {House. ""'Re- MSS. Simancas. lacion de la manera que la Reyna 214 History of England. Chap xv were the ancestors or the forerunners of Montrose and i568 Claverhouse. On one side was a blind, passionate, devoted loyalty, appealing to the impetuous instincts of generosity and heroism — on the other the unromantic intelligence of a people whose history was beginning, and in whose veins instead of noble blood was running the fierce fever of Calvinism. At Hamilton were gathered the Catholics who hated the Reformation, and those with whose disordered lives the Puritan discipline had dealt hardly—those who for deeds of lawlessness had felt the heavy hand of Murray — those who in blind sincerity believed that Mary Stuart was their lawful sovereign, who did not choose to scan too closely her past misdoings, and who had looked to her and hers to bring about the great day when a Scottish prince should sit upon the Enghsh throne. There within a week of her arrival came Argyle and Huntly. There came Cassilis, Eglinton, Crawford, Rosse, Montrose, Sutherland, and Errol. There came Fleming from Dumbarton rock, and Livingston, and Boyd, and Herries, and Maxwell and Oliphant ; abbots whom the hated Calvinists had robbed of office and home, and bishops looking to the Queen to give them back their crosiers and their creed. There too came de Beaumont, happy that the freedom for which he had come to intercede was achieved without his interference. Never in so brief a time was so proud an assembly brought together. Five days after Mary Stuart had left Lochleven six thousand men were gathered round the walls of Hamilton, who had sworn to set her again on the throne of her fathers. In that motley host there were many interests and many passions — half of them for one cause or another would at any other time have cheerfully cut the throats The Reign of Elizabeth. 215 of the other half; but they agreed to set aside their Chapxv minor differences. To prevent quarrels they bound 1568 themselves in the name of God, and on their faith and honour, ' to know nothing but their duty to the Queen till her enemies were crushed,' ' to sink all disputes among themselves for the better prosecution of their enterprise,' ' and to refer them when the great cause was gained to the arbitration of their sovereign.' x The Queen rose bravely to the level of the moment, and shook off the spell which the Bothwell connexion had thrown over her. She remembered Bothwell at the moment of her escape ; but at Hamilton, surrounded by her loyal subjects, she was once more herself — the accomplished politician, the brilliant woman of the world, skiUed in every art which could attach a friend, concUiate a foe, or recover a respect which had beeh forfeited. Dainty as she was naturally in her person, she was without a dress except the maid's in which she had left Lochleven, and Hamilton Castle, it seemed, could not provide her with a second.2 But troubling herself little with such inconveniences, she was taking the measure of her position, and with incomparable skill and speed doing aU that mind could suggest to strengthen her cause. She professed herself willing to. grant an amnesty in Scotland to every one except to Morton and Lindsay, by whom she was taken at Carberry, to Lord Semple, who had written the ballads against her, to Sir James Balfour, who had betrayed her letters, 1 Bond made by the Lords of the * Beton told de Silva 'que no tenia Queen's party at Hamilton, May 8 ; mas de una ropa de una criada que signed by nine earls, eighteen lords, tomoparasalirSe.' — DeSilvato Philip, nine bishops, twelve abbots, and May 14. MSS. Simancas. ninety-three other knights and gen tlemen. — MSS. Scotland. 216 History of England. "ChapXV and to the Provost of Edinburgh, at whose house she 1568 had passed the first night of her captivity. To the May Cardinal of Lorraine she wrote at leisure a second letter of melting ingenuousness. For her past faults she said she implored pardon of God and the world; God and only He had dehvered her from captivity, and she would show her thankfulness by the constancy with which in life and death, as a private woman and as Queen of Scotland, she would evermore be true to Holy Church. She besought her uncle to intercede for her with the Queen-mother and the King ; and she promised for the future to be guided by his advice in everything.1 She despatched Beton to Paris, commissioning him at the same time to say that without assistance she might be unable to maintain herself, and requesting therefore that a thousand harquebusmen might be sent to her help without delay. By Beton's hand she wrote also to Elizabeth, whom he was to see on his way through London. To Elizabeth she said that she was now free, and that she looked to her for the help which in the past autumn she had so often promised. To the Spanish Ambassador she sent a private message, excusing her inability to write to him, from the spies by which she was surrounded. She desired him to tell the King of Spain that the charges reported against her were false, that the real criminals were the Lords by whom she had been imprisoned, that she was staunch to the Catholic faith, and looked to him to advise her as to her future conduct. France, England, and the Spanish Ambassador were 1 There are two accounts of this the other in a despatch of the Spanish letter — one in the Italian narrative, Ambassador at Paris to the Duke of printed by Labanoit, vol. vii. p. 13s; Alva,May2o, 1568.— Tetjlet, vol. v. The Reign of Elizabeth. 217 equally embarrassed with these communications. De Chapxv Silva, too well acquainted with the exact truth, an- 1568 swered vaguely that he would write to his master, who would be happy to hear that she continued true to her religion.1 France could not move actively without the consent either of Spain or of England. The Cardinal of Lorraine consulted Alava, de Silva's brother Ambas sador at Paris. Alava, afraid to give an opinion with out instructions, declined to advise, and answered with generalities.2 The Spaniards, who would desolate Europe for an opinion, were scrupulous about moral crimes ; and Philip seemingly had ceased to interest himself in the fortunes of the Queen of Scots. On Elizabeth the effect of the escape was to open her eyes to the realities of her own position. While Lochleven held its prisoner fast, it was easy to promise and to threaten. When it became necessary to act, the dangers and difficulties rose before her with tremendous distinctness. Mary Stuart at the mercy of her revolted subjects, and Mary- Stuart at the head of an army made up of those who had ever been most opposed to England, were different persons ; and her first impulse was to support the Re gent.3 But she was confronted with a dUemma in which the choice of sides was not easy. Beton told her that he was instructed first to apply for help to herself. If she refused, but only if she refused, he was to go on to France. If she would keep her promise, and replace the Queen of Scots on the throne, the Queen of Scots 1 De Silva to Philip, May 14. — assist the good Earl of Murray rather MSS. Simancas. than this unlucky woman and her 2 Alava to Alva,May2o. — Tedxet, friends.' — Throgmorton to Drury, vol. v. May 6. Teulet, vol. ii. 3 ' I praise God our .Queen will 218 History of England. Chapxv 'would look for no other friend.' What was Elizabeth iS68 to do ? To allow France to interfere against the Pro^ May testants would be entirely ruinous. To take the Queen's side in the field against Murray would be absurd ; and when the Queen of Scots was free and at large, after her fair speeches and promises of the past autumn, neither to assist her herself nor permit her to seek help else where, would be an outrage against justice and decency. So far as a middle course was possible, she at last alighted upon it. She sent down a Mr. Leighton post haste to Scotland, directing him to go first to Murray and tell him that he must submit to the Queen, or she would interfere and compel him ; and next to go on to Mary Stuart, and insist that she must accept ' Eliza beth's arbitration between herself and her subjects,' ' that force should cease on both parts, and no new collection of power be made.' Elizabeth claimed to mediate because she was the Queen of Scots' nearest kinswoman and neighbour, because she believed that the Scottish people would listen more willingly to her than to any other prince, and because, if they refused, she could more easily enforce their obedience. She inti mated at the same time that foreign interference could not and should not be tolerated. If the Queen of Scots called in the French, ' she would have to conclude that the principal intention was to renew old quarrels.' She would simply ' impeach ' them by force, and towards 'her sister' she would be moved to alter her mind contrary to her natural desire. x If the Queen of Scots rejected the offers which were 1 Instruction to Mr. Leighton, sent in Scotland when Mr. Leighton was to Scotland, May iS.—MSS. Scot- sent thither after the escape from land. Considerations of the troubles Lochleven. Anderson. The Reign of Elizabeth. 219 thus made to her, Ehzabeth would have extricated her- Chap xv self from her engagements. If she accepted them, some 1568 compromise might have been arranged which would not ay have been a wholly intolerable solution of the diffi culty. The assumption of authority in the tone of the message would have rendered less disagreeable condi tions unpalatable, but Elizabeth, it is likely, sincerely desired to bring about a reconcUiation between Mary Stuart and her subjects, since she accompanied her pro posals with one of those peculiarly disagreeable letters which she felt herself entitled to write when she in tended to be kind. Mary Stuart had missed the lecture which was to have been administered by Throgmorton ; but circumstances were changed, and it could now be deUvered with propriety. ' Madam,' wrote Elizabeth, ' my hand has seldom ' performed its office towards you since your unfortunate ' captivity. I could not write to you without pain. But ' hearing the joyful news of your escape, affection for ' you as my near relation, and my sense of what is due ' to the honour of a Queen, constrain me to send you ' these few words. The bearer is a gentleman who visits ' you on my behalf, and wiU declare my opinion to you ' at length, touching your state and honour, of which I * am as careful as you yourself could desire. That in ' times past you have shown small respect for that state ' and that honour, here, where I now am, I can only be ' distressed to think ; were I in your presence, I would ' say it to you in words sufficiently distinct. Had you ' cared as much for your honour as you cared for a ' miserable miscreant, aU the world would have grieved ' for your calamities ; whereas, to speak the plain truth, ' the number who have done so is but small. ' But I write to congratulate, and this is not the 220 History of England. Chapxv ' time for reproaches. Pardon, Madam, that interest in 1568 ' your good name and fame which forces me into express- ay ' ing feelings on which I should dwell more largely, did ' not compassion for your condition cut them short, and ' lead me rather into the consideration of your present ' necessities. I am not so inhuman as to withhold advice ' from any one who asks for it, least of aU wUl I be ' backward in giving advice to you; I will say to you ' what I would have said to myself, were I in the same ' condition. Listen, therefore, I entreat you, to what ' the bearer has to report to you. Listen to it as you ' would listen to myself. I, as you wUl understand by ' him, do not forget my promise. Do you, if you please, ' remember, that those who have two strings to one ' bow may shoot strongly, but they rarely hit the mark. ' This gentleman wUl explain the text. His sufficiency ' is such that I need not weary you with longer writing. ' The Creator be your guide in aU you do.' x Cecil, meanwhUe, had communicated with the Regent through Elphinstone, to a purpose considerably different from the message sent through Leighton. Elizabeth, notwithstanding her clearer sight of the inconvenience, would stiU have restored the Queen of Scots to some kind of authority. CecU, who simply wished that she should remain deposed, desired that there should be no necessity for English or any other interposition. He had, therefore, recommended Murray ' to use expedition in quieting the troubles,' and to crush the Queen and those who had collected about her without a moment's delay.2 1 Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots, opinion touching expedition to be I '. cue par une obstinee deliberation ticulieres affections debvoient avoir et remonstrance des siens, qu'elle quelque lieu.'— M. de la Forest au tiendra tousjours ladicte Dame Roy de France, May 22. Teulet, d'Escosse pres d'elle, avec toutes les vol. ii. courtoysies et faveurs dont elle se 2 Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, May pourra adviser. Mais ceulx la fondent 15.— Labanoef, vol. ii. The Reign of Elizabeth. 233 begging permission to repair immediately to her pre- Chapxv sence.1 But the news of her adventurous arrival spread i568 swiftly among the Cumberland squires, who hurried into May "7 the town with their offers of service ; and in the even ing Lowther came from Carlisle to escort her with him to the castle there. He was a loyal subject, but he was a Catholic, and, like all his famUy, had been well dis posed in past times to her title. To him she was the second person in the realm, though with her good name a Uttle clouded, and he thought himself bound to treat her as a princess, tUl more particular instructions should come to him from London. The story of her coming flew from Up to Up. Town and village, farm and manor- house, all over the northern counties were frantic with enthusiasm. The sons of the Pilgrims of Grace, who for years had fixed their eyes on her as their coming deli verer, who had corresponded with her, and all but con spired with her, came pouring into Carhsle. Her most eager hopes could not have been more brightly realised than they seemed in those first days. She held a httle court in the castle, where all who wished to see her were received and welcomed. She knew their names, and had a word for every one. Eloquent and voluble, she rushed to the story of the murder, using the moments wisely whUe she had them, and pouring out her indig nant exculpations.2 Among the rest came Thomas Percy, Earl of Northumberland,3 with some Fairfaxes and Vavasours, to pay his homage; and it seemed to 1 Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, May great accusation of her enemies, very 17. From Workington. — Labanoef, eloquently told before our coming vol. ii. hither.' — Lord Scrope and Sir F. * 'Many gentlemen of divers shires, Knollys to Elizabeth, May 29. Cotton here near adjoining within your MSS., Calig. i. 76. realm, have heard her daily defences 3 Son of Sir Thomas Percy, exe- andexcusesofherinnocency,withher cuted after the Pilgrimage of Grace. 234 History of England. Chap x Percy, after he had spoken with her, that Lowther was i56g too mean a host for so great a visitor, and that it would May be weU if he were to carry her with him to Alnwick. He had come prepared with the necessary authority ; so strangely men's heads were turned, that the Council of York had given him a warrant under their hand and seal to take possession of her person, and Mary Stuart, of course, desired nothing better. Fortunately for him self, Lowther retained sufficient sense to insist on wait ing till he had heard from the Queen. The Earl was violent, ' used great threatenings, and very evU words and language,'1 but he was obhged to go away as he came. So far, however, this was the one check of the success of those first few days, which might weU have seemed to justify the wisdom of Mary Stuart's enterprise. In London, both Queen and CouncU were in the utmost perplexity. They were taken utterly by surprise, and no kind of plan of conduct had been formed beforehand, for so unlooked-for a contingency! Elizabeth's personal impulse was to receive her visitor at Court as her letter, requested, and to treat her as a Sovereign. The French and Spanish Ambassadors, who both suspected Eliza. beth's sincerity, and therefore Watched her closely, satis fied themselves that this was her serious wish, and that, left to herself, she would have done exactly what the Queen of Scots had calculated on. ' The Queen,' said de SUva, ' has always shown her self favourable to the Queeh of Scots, and now takes her part with the Council.' 2 ' The Queen,' said M. de la Forest, ' supports the Queeh of Scots' cause with all 1 Lowther to Cecil, May 22. Sir F. Knollys to the Earl of Northumber land, May 25.— MSS. Queen oe Scots, Rolls House. 2 De Silva to Philip, May 22.— MSS. Simancas.. The Reign of Elizabeth. 235 her power. She tells her Ministers that she shall be Chapxv entertained as her rank and greatness deserve.'1 1568 But both de Silva and M. de la Forest aUke added that May Elizabeth's best advisers were altogether at variance with her. To support her opinion, she had sent for the Duke of Norfolk, Lord Arundel, and the other leaders of the Catholic and semi-Catholic party; she had refused to come to a resolution without them ; but the Ambassadors believed that the objections to the course which she pro posed were so considerable, that she would be forced to give way. A paper remains in CecU's hand which shows that he had at once comprehended the situatioh in all its aspects. The first necessity was to ascertain whether the Queen of Scots was or was not a falsely accused person. If she was innocent, no measures could be too imme diate or too decisive in her favour. She must be instantly restored to her throne, and enabled to punish those who had slandered her character as a pretext for their own rebeUion. But this possibUity Cecil evidently enter tained but faintly. The weight of the difficulty lay in choosing what to do with her if she was guilty — guilty, as aU the world at first believed her to be, and as every one stiU beUeved her to be, except those who were inte rested in finding her to be innocent. Whatever might be the theoretic immunities of Sovereigns, the most determined champion of divine right could not but see a wide difference between the claims of an innocent and maligned lady and those of a cold-blooded murderess and adulteress. CathoUcs were as little loyal as Pro testants when it suited their convenience, and Knox himself had not preached the responsibility of Princes more emphatically than Cardinal Pole. To force such 1 M. de la Forest au Roy, May 22.— Tetjlet, vol. ii. 236 History of England. Chap xv a woman as the Queen of Scots was said to be upon an 1568 unwilling people, was an outrage upon the unwritten May code of common sense which no formula could be strained to justify. Had she been merely the Sovereign of an independent people, unconnected with England in any way, Elizabeth • might have declined to interfere; she might have allowed her unwelcome guest to return as she had come, and to seek the assistance elsewhere which she felt herself unpermitted to give. But setting aside the semi-feudal authority which the English Crown asserted over Scotland, the two countries had been connected since the Reformation with relations too close to be now disowned. England was the natural guardian of Scotch Protestantism, and the life of Eng land itself depended on the keeping out of Scotland those foreign armies which, if England would not take up her cause, the Queen of Scots would seek undoubtedly to introduce there. Moreover, those rights in England, on which the Queen of Scots so much insisted, entailed obligations along with them. She was heir-presumptive to the Crown, and not heir-presumptive only, but ' she had openly made challenge to that crown, not as second person after the Queen's Majesty, but before her.'1 She had not yet ratified the treaty by which she retired from these pretensions, and should she now pass into France, l- all the old perils would be revived with the more extremity ; her stomach kindled with ire and anger vindicative, and her boldness to attempt the more, upon the opinion that she had of a great party in Eng-* land — some for religion, some for her title, others for discontent and love of change.' She would ' marry some foreign Prince ;' ' the old league between France 1 Things to be considered on the Queen of Scots' coming to England ; in Cecil's hand. — Printed by Anderson. The Reign of Elizabeth. 237 and Scotland would be renewed to the sworn malice of CgAF xv England' — 'the danger being greater because England 1568 and Burgundy were then knit together,' and now Eng- ay land was without a friend. France had possession of Calais, and with a few galleys could block the passage of the Straits. English trade would be destroyed, ' without which the Queen's Government could not stand,' whUe the introduction of artiUery had revolu tionised war : the longbow — the great English weapon — had become useless, and France was now the stronger of the two countries. Yet, on the other hand, to detain the Queen of Scots in England seemed equaUy dangerous. ' She would practise and make a party to seize the crown at the first opportunity.' ' She would increase the boldness of aU evU subjects, both in causes of religion and all other;' whUe the CathoUc Powers would have a fair pretext for interfering, if a Princess, whose crimes they would ignore, whose independence they would insist upon, was kept as a prisoner in a country to which she had come of her own free wUl. Her old claim upon the crown and the yet unratified treaty of Leith would be an answer in law to thefr complaints ; but the large number of Catho Ucs in England, and their dangerous humour, made ex tremities undesirable ; and, notwithstanding the scandal, supposing the guUt of the Queen of Scots to be proved, the most prudent course would be 'to devise how to cover the dishonour of the crime, and how to settle her in her Realm with such kind of government as might preserve the same from the tyranny of the French, and continue the accord between the two Realms.' Difficult as this would be, it on the whole promised best for England, provided the Protestants in Scotland could be induced to consent. To reconcile them to it, means 238 History of England. Chap xv would be taken to continue the Earl of Murray in the ' I56g reality of power ; the Protestant religion should be May established there in complete legal form with the con sent of the Sovereign; the treaty of Leith should be accepted, and the Queen of Scots should bind herself not to marry without the consent Of Elizabeth.1 In any previous century in the world's history^-ih Rome or Greece, in the ages of Faith, in mediaeval Europe, or in England in the golden era of the Plan- tagenets^-such a difficulty would have been disposed of more swiftly and more effectively, It is a proof of the change of times, that the old methods of getting rid of pretenders to thrones were not thought of, or were thought of only that means might be taken to avert the suspicion that they had been resorted to. Elizabeth's first care was to order that the Queen of Scots' food should be prepared by her own servants, lest an acci dental illness should be imputed to poison.2 The Queen of Scots was not to be imprisoned and then to disappear; she was not even to be treated as the unhappy Lady Catherine Grey had been treated, under a provocation infinitely less. But — setting aside formahties, and looking only at the essential features of the case — the beautiful and interesting sufferer was manifestly a dan gerous animal which had run into a trap, difficult to keep, yet not to be allowed to go abroad till her teeth were drawn and her claws pared to the quick. Yet CecU could very imperfectly as yet convince his mistress. Elizabeth was troubled with her theories of 1 Things to be considered on the comida y bebida, porque si suc- Queen of Scots' comingto England. — cediese alguna desgracia de enferme- Anderson's Collection. dad natural no se imputase a otra 2 'Dixd me la Reyna que no le cosa.' — De Silva to Philip, June s- quitasen los officiates escoceces que MSS. Simancas. tenia para el servicio de su mesa. The Reign of Elizabeth. 239 Sovereignty ; troubled with the recoUection of her Chap xv promises, which she had found it more easy to shake off 1568 when there was only an Earl of Murray to be betrayed ; ay troubled with her personal feelings for the Queen of Scots ; troubled with dislike of Puritans and fear of CathoUcs ; troubled generally with an inabUity to grapple with any question in its straightforward bearings. The accounts of the fine Court which was being held at Carlisle possibly quickened her resolutions. She was brought to see that the murder must be privately investigated; that she must abandon her intention of receiving the Queen of Scots at Court tUl the Queen of Scots had estabhshed her innocence, and, meanwhile, that she should not escape. A guard of 200 men was sent from Berwick to Carhsle Castle — men so faithful, that if there was any attempt at flight, Elizabeth expressed a fear that they would make short work of their charge.1 She told the Spanish Ambassador that the Queen of Scots should be treated as a Princess, but with less •distinction than would have been shown her had she come to England with an unblemished reputation. Lord Scrope, who was in London at the time, returned in haste to relieve Lowther of his command. Elizabeth wrote briefly to the Queen of Scots to say that for the present she could not see her, but that her cause should receive proper consideration; and Sir Francis Knollys — EUzabeth's cousin — whose keen hard sense would be proof against Mary Stuart's reported fascinations, was sent with Scrope to take charge of her person, to 1 Dio me a entender que habian Reyna se quisiere salir por alguna venido a Carlisle docientos arcabu- parte, y la viesen, la matarian. — De zeros y todos tan fieles a su servicio Silva to Philip, June $• MSS. Sima*>-- que tenia temor de que si aquella eas. 240 History of England. -Chapxv communicate his mistress's intentions, and to report i568 upon her character. i May 28 j^ gjjgjp note £,om Qec[\ na science that, so far as he was concerned, the alarm was groundless. Nor was PhiUp, as yet, in any way determined what course he meant to follow. Whatever might be his relations with the House of Lorraine, he was as far as ever from an understanding with the French Govern ment. He still entertained no thought of taking up Maiy Stuart ; and although he was determined sooner or later to recover England in some way to the Holy See ; although he was satisfied that as long as England remained in its present state the Netherlands would never be effectuaUy pacified, yet in his instructions to Don Guerau he directed him especially to avoid com mitting himself with the friends of the Queen of Scots ; and while he was to animate the Catholics, he was on 1 De Silva to Philip, August 19.— MSS. Simancas. 330 History of England. Chap xvi no account to give Elizabeth any open grounds of com- iS68 plaint.1 But Elizabeth and her Ministers as yet but little understood the extreme slowness with which Philip moved. They saw Alva shaking his bloody sword across the Channel ; they saw their ambassador dismissed with contumely out of Spain ; they saw de Silva re called, and his removal imperfectly explained. These signs confirmed the threatening rumours of which the air was full; and the Queen, with the Mary Stuart problem on her hands, began to listen to those' who told her that, whatever her private feelings, the safety of her throne depended on the Protestants of the Con tinent being saved from utter destruction. A brief but pathetic letter came from the Prince of Orange to Cecil, describing the condition of his country, and rather indicating a wish than expressing a hope for Elizabeth's assistance.2 The Prince of Conde, whose cause was identified with : 1 Instructions to Don Guerau de mouvoir tout homme a. pitie" et Espes, June 28, 1568. — MSS.Siman- compassion, veu mesmement que sa cas. tyrannie s'est tant desbordee qu'elle * ' M. Secile, — Vous avez (com- n'a laisse" lieu quelconque a raison ni me je ne doubte aucunement) assez justice. Done pour 1' affection que entendu de quelle facon le Due j'ay tousjours eu au service du Roy d'Alva avec ses adherens depuis sa et au bien de celuy pais suis este venue au Pays Bas ai proc6d(5, reduict en ceste extremity que d'user et procede encores journellement, contre ce mal si exorbitant du re- contre les pauvres Chrestiens, illec- mede que ce gentilhomme vousdira, ques estants ses cruaultez inhu- vous priant que sur ce qu'il vous manitez et tyrannies si notoires qu'il declaira de ma part le voulliez croire n'est besoing de les specifier, sans comme moy mesme ; et en cas qu'il jamais avoir prins aucun regard vous requera de vostre addresse vers aux droictz, usances, priveleges, et sa Majeste", luy prester en ce vostre coustumes du pays ny au qualitez et bonne aydeet assistance. — Vostre tres services de ceulx qu'il ait si injuste- affectionn^serviteur, Wm.de Nassau. ment executez, banniz, et deschassez : August 22.' — MSS. Flandres, Rolls chose certes qui a bon droict doibt House. The Reign of Elizabeth, 331 that of Orange (for he too knew that if Alva was un- Chap xvi checked the Huguenots would be soon trampled out in Ij6g France,) sent the younger Coligny, the Cardinal of Cha- AuflBt tUlon, to London, to tempt the Queen into a Protestant league. The Queen's dynastic affectations were seri ously shaken. Money was sent privately to Orange, and further measures, it wiU be seen, were contemplated in his favour. The Cardinal Chatillon was ' well received ' by Elizabeth, the rather, as Cecil italicizes in one of his private notes, to displease all Papists ; and while in the same paper he said ' that it was not intended the Queen of Scots should be proved guilty of the murder,' yet ' there would be no haste made of her delivery, until the success was seen of the matter of France and Flanders.'1 The agitation will now be easily imagined with which at this crisis the Queen learnt that a marriage was being talked of between the Queen of Scots and the Duke of Norfolk. Between her own vacillations and the clouds rising over the Continent the problem had become fearfuUy compUcated. To detain Mary Stuart in Eng land 'without disgracing her to the world,' would be at once dishonourable and dangerous.2 If the more direct alternative could not be encountered, then to marry her to some steady Protestant, and allow her, 1 Notes in Cecil's hand, Septem- Queen's Majesty should show her ber -2 3. — MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. Grace's favour in that suit, for that It was necessary to move with ex- the same might move the Duke to treme caution. The majority of the be ready for her Grace when he Council was still opposed to a Pro- might do her any service.' — The testant policy. Alva had applied for Marquis of Winchester to Cecil, Sep- leave to supply his army in England tember 22. MSS. Domestic, Rolls with winter clothes, and also with House. horses. The old Lord Treasurer, 2 Knollys to Cecil, Oct.— MSS. the Marquis of Winchester, ' thought Mary Qtteen of Scots, Rolls House. it good for his opinion that the 332 History of England. Chap xvi so trammelled, to return to Scotland was the safesi 7^68~ course which could be followed. But Norfolk, the first October peer m England, at once weak, flexible, and ambitious, hanging on the confines of the two religions, and dangerously Uable to be tempted into Papistry, was the very last person with whom she could be safely trusted. It has been seen that if Norfolk was not profoundly treacherous he was himself wavering about the mar riage ; but he was no less anxious to prevent the charges against the Queen of Scots from being pressed; and those who desired Norfolk to have her for political reasons had not been frightened by Murray's dis closures. Before the Conference broke up at York, the Bishop of Ross, Maitland, and MelvUle talked it over, and agreed that the alliance was the most promis ing means of keeping Murray silent. The Bishop after' wards had a long conversation with the Duke. Mait land, he said, recommended that the Queen of Scots should renew her abdication, the condition on which Murray insisted as the price of his forbearance ; ' she would then be restored to her country with honour, and within six months might revoke all that she had done.'1 The Duke answered that ' anything was well to prevent the present infamy and slander.' If Murray produced the letters, the Queen of Scots would be dishonoured for ever,' and 'the Christian Princes could no longer make suit for her delivery.' 2 At whatever hazard and by whatever means her good name must be protected, ' and time would work the rest.' Norfolk said nothing to the Bishop about the mar riage, but he had allowed Maitland to open the subject with him, and with or without his sanction Norfolk's 1 Confession of the Bishop of Ross.— Mukdin, p. 52. 2 Ibid. The Reign of Elizabeth. 333 sister, Lady Scrope, was feeling the pulse of the Queen Chap xvi of Scots. i568 The Commissioners then separated. Norfolk went oto er north as he was ordered, and a week or two after made his way to London. Sadler, Maitland, Murray, Herries, Livingston, and the rest repaired directly to the Court ; while the Bishop of Ross passed round by Bolton to consult his mistress, and take out fresh powers for the second Conference. Knollys, too, had gone again thither fuU of his own scheme of marrying her to his cousin Carey. Mary Stuart had thus two English alli ances already projected for her. She had left another in Scotland with the heir of the Hamiltons, while ex posure was hanging over her for crimes which in any other age would have disquahfied her from further matrimonial speculation. It was a strange world — but none the less a real one. To her, just then, the ex posure was the one matter of most importance, and she turned the different intrigues to account. She had so far no serious notion of accepting any of these suitors. She thought only of tiding over her present difficulty, and holding her friends together. She amused Chatel herault therefore with the expectation that as soon as she was released she would accept the hand of Lord Arbroath;1 she listened graciously to Lady Scrope; whUe she flattered Sir Francis into believing that her 1 'It seemeth to be her policy to she be detained, she will counte- work to marry with my Lord of Ar- nance and maintain the Duke to the broath, not only because the Duke uttermost, unless her Majesty should arid his house are dedicated to the think good to alter the matter by an French, but also because it were English marriage.' — KnoUys to Cecil, ler own peril to countenance the October 25. — Cotton MSS., Calig. Duke to govern upon any other occa- C. 1, sioh. But in hope thereof, however 334 History of England. Chap xvi real preference, on the whole, was for the scheme which I568 he had suggested to Norfolk ; and misleading him pur- Octoier p0Sejy as to the person of whom she was speaking, she let him think ' that she would not greatly mislike to be offered some near kinsman of the Queen's Majesty on the mother's side.' x Thus provided on all sides — the Catholics forming a coalition for her into which they were labouring to bring the King of Spain ; her cause gradually identify ing itself with the struggle on the Continent ; the Duke of Norfolk being proposed to her by the great English party who had maintained her claims to the succession ; and the two sections of her own subjects labouring to come to a compromise in her favour through their joint distrust of Elizabeth — the Queen of Scots prepared to meet the future, confident on the whole that, among so many combinations in her favour, the danger which she lately feared would be warded off. In renewing the commission of the Bishop of Ross and his com panions, she again empowered them to accept EUzabeth's conditions ; she declared herself still ready to abandon France, and to make a permanent alliance with England ' for the weal of both realms.' She was willing to agree to any measure for her divorce from Bothwell; and while to Spain and France she was protesting that she was a true daughter of the Papacy, she repeated her con sent to the establishment of the Anglican Church Con stitution in Scotland.2 If the Conference took a danger ous turn, and if, contrary to expectations, Murray pushed his accusation, the commission was to be understood to 1 KnoUys to Cecil, October 20. — well as the children of Lord Huns- MSS. Qt/een of Scots, Rolls House, don. The Duke of Norfolk was related to 3 Mary Stuart to the Bishop of the Queen on the mother's side, as Ross, Oct. 22. — Labanoef, vol. ii. The Reign of Elizabeth. 335 be cancelled, and the Bishop and his friends were to Chap xvi withdraw. ~~ 1568" Ehzabeth herself meanwhUe had grown, as has been 0otobOT seen, into a harsher humour. The aggressive attitude of the Catholics had frightened her, and the Norfolk rumour, whether there was foundation for it or not, con vinced her that the Queen of Scots could not safely be allowed to come off with flying colours.1 After endless efforts to evade giving a direct answer to Murray's four questions, and with a saving clause that ' she would not compel or embolden the Earl of Murray to enter into accusations, for that she principally wished the honour and estate of the Queen of Scotland to be preserved,2 she brought herself to promise that, ' if the guUt of the said Queen might manifestly and certainly appear,' she would neither herself restore her, nor permit her to be restored, unless with assurances for her future behaviour, such as Murray himself should be satisfied with. With a profound sense of the importance of the occasion, and to leave no excuse for a complaint of unfair deal ing, she summoned a great councU of the Peers; and Norfolk, Winchester, Arundel, Derby, Northumberland, Westmoreland, Shrewsbury, those among the Enghsh nobles who had made themselves most conspicuous as the advocates of the Queen of Scots' pretensions, were required especially to be present at an investigation which at last she determined to make complete.3 If 1 ' The Queen's Majesty is now at it to him — but write it to be burned the point so careful for her own by yourself.' — Cecil to Sir H. Sid- surety and state, as I perceive the ney, Oct. 22. MSS. Ireland, Rolls Queen of Scots shall not by favour House. be advanced to greater credit than * Note in Cecil's hand, Oct. 30.— her cause will deserve, and I think MSS. Queen oe Scots, Rolls House. it is rather to put her back than to s Proceedings at the Council at further her. This percase the bearer Hampton Court, Oct. 30.— Goodall, understandeth not, nor I dare utter vol. ii. 336 History of England. Chap xvi the realm was to be further troubled in Mary Stuart's 6g interest^ Elizabeth did not mean to leave her friends October excuse for pretending, in public or private, that they believed her to have been unjustly accused. As soon as this resolution became known it was foreseen that the Queen of Scots would, attempt to escape. She hunted daily about Bolton in the wUdest weather, galloping so fast that her guard could scarce keep at her side. The country was open to the Border. Knollys represented that ' a dozen or two troopers might easUy come over the moors, leaving relays of horses on the way,' and carry her off; while ' to be hindered of her exercise would be death to one of her disposition.' l Elizabeth, therefore, after quarrelling with the expense, replenished Lord Scrope's stables. ' A dozen men well- armed and mounted were to accompany her wherever she wentj and a dozen more patrolled under the walls at night.' 2 The Berwick harquebusmen had returned home after the move from Carlisle. Knollys, however, thus reinforced, undertook to hold her safe, and having a kinsman's privilege, although he himself would not leave his charge, he sent Elizabeth in writing a few sentences of advice. When the Peers were assembled, he recommended her to hear what they would have to say, ' and not prejudicate them with the opening of her. opinions beforehand. If the nobUity and Council did not heartily and sincerely join with her in that grand cause, danger would come of it.' 3 Care was taken that the evidence should be complete. Besides the letters, there were persons present in 1 Knollys to Cecil, October 25.— and 12.— MSS. Queen oe Scots. Cotton MSS., Calig C. 1. 3 Ibid. s KnoUys to Cecil, November 5 The Reign of Elizabeth. 337 1568 November London who had been more or less connected with the Chap xvi murder, who were aware of the Queen's part in it, and ready to depose to what they knew.1 The intention even yet was not to find her guilty before the world. The Peers only were to be com peUed to look the truth in the face, and to be forced for shame to withdraw their countenance from her. When that was done, a composition of some kind could be discovered, to which Scotland might consent ; Mary Stuart's misdoings might be varnished over, and she might be spared from formal condemnation.2 Such an issue to the Queen of Scots appeared Uttle less dreadful than a public declaration of her iniquities. Her friends, she trusted, might stUl prevent it, but 1 Nothing remains to show who these persons were, but that there were such persons in London, ap pears from a singular note to Cecil from Francis Walsingham, who here appears upon the stage for the first time. The note is in these words : — ' Sir, — I was willed by my friend to advertise you, that if for the dis covery of the Queen of Scots' consent to the murder of her husband there lacketh sufficient proofs, he is able, if it shall please you to use him, to discover certain that should have been employed in the said murder who are here to be produced. Thus most humbly taking my leave of your Honour, I beseech God to direct all your doings to his honour. Your Honour's to command, Francis Walsingham. Nov. 20.' — MSS. Queen op Scots, Rolls House. s Notes in Cecil's hand, November 21. — MSS. Queen oe Scots. Cecil, according to his habit, drew a scheme of the. situation, and divided it into Greek antitheses : — ELIZ. III. ayaOovovptpspov vvfiftovXtv ritcr) y'l-yaQutv GV-fKpimQ TUtVI Rat avctyicaiovl \ , / . * p&dwv J ^p*v{w). ' The best for England,' he said, 'but not the easiest,' would be to leave the Queen of Scots deprived, and Scotland to continue as it was. The next best and not so hard, ' that the Queen of Scots should be persuaded to allow her son to re main King ; she herself to keep the name of Queen, and Scotland to be governed by a commission. The Anglican Church to be established ; a general amnesty declared ; the Hamilton succession allowed and guaranteed ; the Queen of Scots her self to remain in England, and not to leave it without Elizabeth's per mission ; and the young King to be brought up in England also, with a view to his eventually succeeding tq the English crown. These conditions would at any time have satisfied Scotland, with or 338 History of England. Chap xvi her best hope was with her own subjects. If she was Js6g to be restored at all, she knew that for their own sake, November ag wejj ag £or ^g nonour 0f Scotland, they would pre fer to receive her back with an unstained name ; and since the restoration still formed a part of Elizabeth's programme, she made use of the lever to work on Murray : she sent him word that so long as he and his friends abstained from accusing her, she was ready ' to make an appointment; ' and to give them any security they desired for their lives, their estates, and their share in the administration of the country. If they chose to dishonour their queen, at the bar of a foreign prince, ' no love or assured reconcUiation could be obtained after wards.' She did not wish to accuse her subjects; stUl less did she wish them to accuse her. If they would abstain from ' rigorous and extreme dealing,' she on her part would forget that they had rebeUed agamst her.1 She knew that Murray had good reason to mistrust Elizabeth, and she believed that her overtures would be accepted. If she failed and the accusation proceeded, she demanded to be heard in person before the assembled English Peers.2 With this prelude the Conference re-opened at West minster on the 25th of November. The three English Commissioners were re-appointed; Bacon, Arundel, Leicester, Clinton, and CecU were added to their num ber; the remaining noblemen who had received a sum mons were to join them at a later stage in the enquiry. To evade the appearance of a claim to exercise juris- without the confirmation of Mary 1 The Queen of Scots to the Stuart's deposition ; but, to the last Bishop of Ross and Lord Herries, of them especially, Elizabeth herself November 22.— Goodall, vol. ii. could never be brought to consent. 2 Ibid. The Reign of Elizabeth. 339 diction, the Painted Chamber, a room never used for Chap xvi judicial purposes, was selected as the place of meeting. I56g On the first day the commission was read, the oaths Nov 2fi taken, and the formalities got over. The Bishop of Ross entered a ' protestation, that while ready to treat for an arrangement, he was submitting to no form of judgment, nor would admit any judge or judges what ever ' to have authority over his Sovereign. The next day, Friday the 26th, the serious part of the business began. The proceedings were taken up where they had been dropped at York. The accusations against Murray were read over, with his imperfect answer. The rephes which he had so far made had been easily answered. He was asked if he had a further defence. It seems when he rose that no one present knew what he intended to say. Every effort had been made to in duce him to be silent, and EUzabeth's explanations had not been of that frank and unreserved kind which alone, he had said at York, would tempt him to proceed. Neither is there reason to suppose that any further promises had been made to him in private. He felt, possibly, that with falsehood and purposes half-avowed aU around him, the only safe treading for him was on the open road. His friends believed that he had fallen into a snare which Elizabeth had laid for him. If it was so, he at least brought off his good name untarnished from that nest of Ulusion and intrigue. He said that he himself, and the Lords his confeder ates, had sought only, in aU which they had done, to clear Scotland of the disgrace which the murder of Darnley had brought upon it. The world had seen their un willingness to pubUsh matters to strangers which tended to the Queen's infamy. They could have cleared their z2 340 History of England. Chap xvi conduct long before, had they cared to make known the 6g evidence against her which they possessed and on which November facty had acted ; but they had chosen rather to endure the reproach which was cast, upon them ; and he would have still remained sUent, ' if the continuance of Scot land in the state of a kingdom and the profession of true religion ' would have permitted. He had no delight to see his Sovereign dishonoured, but his adversaries left him no choice but to produce the writings which they knew that he possessed.' With these words, the Regent laid on the table a written declaration that his sister had been the contriver and deviser of the murder of which BothweU had been the instrument. The accusation was given in. The evidence on which all would turn was still in reserve. It was not the assertion that she had approved of the murder which she feared, for that might have been forgiven; but Maitland had sent her copies of the contents of the casket — the careless sonnets, in which she had aUowed her passion to run over; the letters, in which she had exposed the very inmost working of the madness which had possessed her, with the details of her treachery to her miserable husband, at which she had herself revolted in the heat of her delirium. Bothwell had preserved them all, and all were in Murray's hands ; and no man or woman was ever born into the world who could con template, without terror, such exposure of their inner selves. The conference was prorogued for three days. The English Commissioners went down to Hampton Court to inform the Queen of what had passed. It was perhaps supposed that Mary Stuart, sooner than allow matters to advance further, would fling herself at Elizabeth's The Reign of Elizabeth. 341 feet — abdicate, marry George Carey, marry anybody, or Chap xvi do anything — to escape the deadly disgrace. 'i568 On the 29th the session was renewed. The Bishop NoT6mb<* of Ross was late in coming, and while the Commis sioners were waiting for his appearance, the Earl of Lennox, who, it seems, had at last obtained permission to be present, appUed to be heard in confirmation of Murray's charges. It was a departure from the scheme which Elizabeth had designed ; Murray was to have been merely a defendant, and the Queen of Scots the plaintiff. It was decided, however, that Lennox should be admitted, and he was aUowed to speak at length about the murder. ' He produced in writing ' parts of such matters as he conceived to be true for charging the Queen of Scots, and he appealed to God and the Queen of England for justice. As he finished speaking, the Bishop of Ross entered with his coUeagues. On learning what had taken place, they again withdrew to consult. 'After some reason able time they returned and said, they had found it very strange and a thing unlooked for, that the other party could put in writing any such matter with such boldness and in such sort, especially considering the Queen their Sovereign had so much benefited the greater part of them.' They were ready to defend her if necessary, ' but it became not subjects to touch their Sovereign in such manner.' ' The matter was of great weight,' and they could not say on the moment what answer they were prepared to give. As Elizabeth had misled the Queen of Scots into taking refuge in England, so now she had broken the promise with which she had tempted her to consent to the investigation. The Bishop went for advice to; La Mothe Fenelon, whom the favourable reception of 342 History of. England. Chap xvi Cardinal Chatillon had made better inclined than was at ~^g~ first expected to the Queen of Scots' interests. November jja(j tkere Deen any chance of making a successful defence, it is idle to pretend that the Bishop of Ross would not have tried it ; but in the possible innocence of Mary Stuart no tolerably well-informed person affected in private to believe. La Mothe thought that her life was in danger. The lawyers said, that having come into the realm without a passport, she had fallen under Elizabeth's jurisdiction, and might be tried at the suit of the Earl of Lennox for the murder of an English subject. She might deny her letters, but in the presence of so much corroborative evidence her own word would hardly avail her. It was thought at one time that she had better say that she was innocent ; but that if she was not innocent, Bothwell was a necro mancer, and that she had been bewitched.1 Her friends ,must have been hard pressed to think of such an ex cuse. La Mothe, on the whole, advised the Bishop to parry the charges by recusation, to evade the issues, and ' tract time.' Meanwhile he would inform his own Court, and some one would be sent over from France to remonstrate with Elizabeth against trying a Crowned Princess.2 On the i st of December the Bishop and Lord Herries intimated that they were prepared to reply. The Earl of Arundel, who had been absent hitherto from a real •or pretended illness, had now joined his coUeagues. 1 ' Et que Ton pourra aussi alleguer en scait bien le mestier, n'ayant faict que quant bien la dicte Dame auroit plus grande proffession du temps attempts quelque chose en cest en- qu'il estoit aux escolles que de lire droict, ce qu'elle ne fit oncques, le et estudier en la negromancie et Conte de Boduel l'y auroit induicte magie defendu.' — La Mothe Fenelon et contrainte par force d'enchant- au Roy, November 29. — Depeches, ment et d'ensorcelement, comme il vol. i. a Mid. The Reign of Elizabeth. 343 Herries spoke first. He said that he had considered Chap xvi Murray's charges. They were mere calumnies invented Ij6g by him and his friends from a fear that they would be de- Dec,inber prived of the estates which had been granted to them in the Queen's minority. He required the Commissioners, as they were men of honour, and ' divers of them of the most antient and noble blood of the realm,' to suspend their opinion, and consider how dangerous the example might be if subjects were allowed to depose their Princes. Among those who now appeared as her accusers, were some who had been themselves parties to the conspiracy. Herries was here on dangerous ground, for he was chiefly touching Maitland, and Maitland was working day and night for the Queen. The Bishop of Ross followed. He said that he was forbidden by his commission to enter upon the question which had now been raised. The Conference had been assembled to hear the complaints of his mistress against Murray, not that she herself should answer before it as a criminal. The Earl of Murray had been aUowed to accuse her, contrary to the engagements of the Queen of England. If his mistress were to reply, she would reply only in person ' for declaration of her innocency ' before the Queen and the Peers.1 Elizabeth was still at Hampton Court, and as the Bishop dechned to take an answer except from Elizabeth herself, the Conference was adjourned thither. At the next session on Friday December 3rd, the Queen appeared and took her seat. A private intimation had been conveyed to the Bishop, ' that whether his mistress was faulty or not faulty, she would be found in fault in the end, and by colour thereof the Queen of England 1 Proceedings of the Commission, Dec. i.— Goo»all,*vo1. ii. Compart MSS. Queen oe Scots, Rolls House. 344 . History of England. Chap xvi would forsake her.'1 The Bishop at once charged' Eli- ~^T zabeth with breach of faith. She had been told from December the first that the Queen of Scots had forbidden her Conir missioners to reply to any accusation which touched her honour. He had been sent with his colleagues to con sult on the means of reconciling her with her subjects. Since they had been aUowed or encouraged to take their present attitude, those hopes were now at an end. The Queen of Scots 'would never hereafter extend her clem ency to them.' He demanded the instant arrest of Murray and his friends, and permission to his mistress to appear in her own defence. The tone was bold. ' The Commission had now en tered,' as Sir Francis Knollys expressed it, 'into the bowels of the odious accusation.' Now more than ever, KnoUys entreated CecU to make clear work with it; being sure only of this, 'that unconstant wavering or unsound agreement might breed great dangers.'2 Every one agreed that since the Queen of Scots had been accused, her request to be allowed to speak for herself ought not to be refused. It was a quasi admission of English jurisdiction in Scottish causes — a concession in itself of no small importance. Some thought that she should be heard before the Queen in person, with the whole body of the Peers and Privy CouncUlors, and that the foreign Ambassadors should be allowed a voice. Others thought that although the ultimate judgment should rest with the Queen, the cause itself should be tried by Special Commission, and the Ambassadors, though pre sent, should be admitted only as spectators. But all allowed that in some form or other Mary Stuart ought to be allowed the natural right of every accused person. 1 Cotton- MSS., Calig. C. i. s Knollys to Cecil, December 6. — MSS. Queen oe Scots, The Reign of Elizabeth. 345 Almighty God had not condemned Adam, till Adam Chap xvi had been called to answer for himself. 1 I56g But there was to be no trifling. If a court of this December kind was to be held at all, the Bishop of Ross was not allowed to remain in any illusion on the form which the proceedings would assume. If the Queen of Scots appeared on one side, the evidence would be brought forward on the other. The Bishop and Herries, laying aside the high language which they had used in the Court, now requested a pri vate interview with Cecil and Leicester. They said that their mistress ' had desired from the beginning that the cause should be ended by some good appointment with her subjects.' They had believed the wish to be shared by Elizabeth, and before the accusation was pressed further on either part, they were anxious to know whe ther something of the kind was not still possible. CecU, that he might be sure that there was no mis understanding, made them repeat the words. He then conducted them to Ehzabeth, to whom they again suggested the desirableness of stopping the case. Elizabeth had either intentionally contrived the situ ation, or instantly availed herself of its advantages. She said pohtely, that however desirable a compromise might have been, it would now be fatal to her sister's honour. The Earl of Murray should be required to prove his allegation — she did not doubt that he would faU — and the Queen of Scots' good name would then be saved without either compromise or need of answer. The Bishop felt his mistake, but could not extricate himself. He said his mistress ought to be heard at 1 L'advia, des advocatz. — Depeches de M. la Mothe Fenelon, vol. i. P- 5'- 346 History of England. Chap xvi once ; ' being able, to allege matter why Murray ought ,568 not to be allowed to propose anything against her, December muc]j \ess pr0ye anything in her absence against her honour.' But Elizabeth seemed more jealous for the Queen of Scots' reputation than the Queen of Scots herself. She said, 'that she did so much prefer the estimation of her sister's innocency, that before she would allow the matter to be stayed, she must have the Earl of Murray roundly and sharply charged with his audacious de faming of his Sovereign.' The Earl of Murray would of course answer, and everything would be exposed. Escape was now impossible. If that was her reso lution, the Bishop coldly said, that she must do as she pleased. For himself, he would but enter his protest and withdraw. He was forbidden to be a party to any further proceedings, and, so far as he had power to close it, he declared the Conference at an end.1 The Court was thus left alone with the Regent. The Bishop appeared only on the next session to repeat what he had said to the Queen. Murray was then in troduced and put upon his defence. He was told that although he had forgotten his duty of allegiance in ac^ cusing his Sovereign of so horrible a crime, yet the Queen of England would not forget her office of a good neighbour, sister and friend. If he had anything to aUege in justification of himself, her Commissioners were ready to hear him. Very reluctantly, embarrassed by his negotiations with Norfolk, against Maitland's advice, for Maitland believed that he was ruining himself and his friends; against his own feelings, for he perhaps alone of the 1 Proceedings at Hampton Court, Saturday, December 4. — Goodall, voL ii. The Reign of Elizabeth. 347 whole party had some real affection for his father's Chapxvi daughter, — Murray, thus driven, produced the fatal ,568 casket. The depositions of the murderers who had been December executed were read over, with the acts of the Scottish Parliament of the preceding December. Nelson, Darn ley's servant, gave an account of the last night at Kirk-o'- Field. Crawford related the scene at Glasgow before Darnley was brought to Edinburgh, with other par ticulars. The entire evidence against the Queen of Scots was placed in the hands of the Council, and the time was now come for the presence of the noblemen who were most her friends. The Marquis of North ampton, the Earls of Bedford and Pembroke, Lord WUliam Howard, and Sir Walter Mildmay had already joined the Commission. To these were now added the Earls of Northumberland, Westmoreland, and Derby, the Earls of Shrewsbury, Worcester, Huntingdon, and Warwick. The casket was opened, and the letters, sonnets, and contracts were taken out and read. They were examined long and minutely by each and every of the Lords who were present. ' They were compared for the manner of writing and fashion of orthography with other letters before written by the Queen of Scots, in the collation whereof no difference was found.' x * No difference was found.' AU the wishes to find the Queen of Scots innocent, or at least her guilt ' unproven,' could not remove the overwhelming force of the proofs. At first only four — Cecil, Sadler, Leicester, and Bacon — declared themselves convinced. The rest either thought or said they thought, that there was stUl room for doubt, or that they must suspend their 1 See the proceedings in Goon- entitled ' Relacion del negocio de la all, the MS. account in the Rolls Ser1"11 Reyna de Escocia.' — MSS. House, and a most curious document Simancas. 348 History of England, Chap xvi judgment till the Queen of Scots had been heard, or I56g that they had themselves no right to be her judges. December gut j3acon pressed them to say whether, in the face of these letters, the Queen of Scots could be admitted into Elizabeth's presence ; and then, ' the said Earls severaUy made answer, that they had therein seen such foul matters as they thought truly in their consciences that her Majesty had just cause to refuse to see her, until some answer had been made first, tending in some way to clear the weight of the charge. They could not think it meet for her Majesty's honour to admit the said Queen to her presence as the case did stand.' ' The Queen of Scots, in applying to be heard in per son, had contemplated a pageant in Westminster HaU, a jury determined to acquit her whether guUty or innocent, a declamatory defence in which she would say 'that the charges against her were false because she, on the word of a Princess, did sav that they were false.'2 1 Proceedings of the 15th of De- less that your commissioners and your cember. — Goodall, vol. ii. The Majesty would take a short answer first sight of these papers seems to for a sufficient answer — that is to have affected 'the whole party as it say, that the accusations of her ad- had affected Norfolk at York. The versaries are false, because that she Earl of Northumberland being asked on the word of a Princess will say afterward, whom at that time he that they are false. If this kind of found addicted to the Scottish Queen, argument will satisfy your Majesty answered, ' he found none addicted.' for a sufficient answer, you may — Sharp's Memorials of the Rebellion , soon, I think, have it ; but I think °/IS69- Appendix, p. 208. it vain in these causes to look for 2 ' Surely I think that this Queen her answer as standing to her justi- never meant to answer the odious fication formally in probable order accusations of her adversaries, unless and sort, without her assurance she might be assuredly promised be- aforehand that, however the matter forehand that your Majesty would shall fall out, yet the judgment end and judge her cause to her shall fall on her side.'— KnoUys to honour, according to the persuasion Elizabeth, Dec; 26. MSS. Queen of my Lord Herries' message, or un- oe Scots, Rolls House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 349 She was made to feel, that if she met the charge at Chap xvi all she must meet it formally and in detail, before a ~7$6% court which would try the cause by the received laws Dect,mber of evidence. After receiving the opinion of the Peers, Ehzabeth sent for the Bishop of Ross, and gave him a choice of three ways in which the Queen of Scots might make her reply. She might either defend herself in writing, or in person before a committee of noblemen who should go down to Bolton ; or she might be heard by counsel, and select himself or any other person to represent her. Till this had been done, Elizabeth said, she could not see her; and she told the Bishop that ' those who advised her to abstain from answering ex cept in her own person, however they should seem good servants, did rather betray her to procure her condem nation.' To this point, after all the promises and fair speeches, the question had been brought round at last. Elizabeth had tempted the Queen of Scots into England and then had imprisoned her. She had brought her to consent to an enquiry, with promises so often repeated that her honour should be in no perU, that even with her past experience the Queen of Scots was forced to believe her ; yet the Queen of Scots was entangled again in the meshes, and the fine words had turned out to be as wind. In both cases Ehzabeth had not meant to de ceive; but a vacUlating purpose and shifting humour had been as effective as the most deliberate treachery. The Bishop did not care to pick his words. He reminded the Queen of the many letters in which she had told his mistress ' to have but one string to her bow,' to trust to her, and to be safe. She had promised that Murray should not be admitted to her presence; yet she had not only admitted him, but had allowed him to 8'50 History of England. Chap xvi utter words there which no subject should be allowed "7^7 to use against his Prince. He quoted Trajan for the December sanctity of sovereigns ; and he said that if she would not restore his mistress as she had bound herself to do, at least she ought in honour to open her prison and let her go where she would. Ehzabeth could only say that she had desired sincerely to make some arrangement between the Queen of Scots and her subjects ; ' but seeing their unnatural behaviour in accusing her, it was now impossible. She must now pursue the enquiry and punish her accusers, unless their charges were held to be proved.' x What more was to be elicited when the great point had been gained of disgracing the Queen of Scots before the English peers, it was not easy at first sight to per ceive, but the intricacies of Elizabeth's purpose were as yet far from unfolded. She said that an arrangement was impossible ; but, as will be presently seen, she meant only such an arrangement as should leave the Queen of Scots able to pretend that she had made concessions which she might have refused if she pleased. She did not wish her to keep an unwUling prisoner to plot and conspire. She dared not chaUenge the opinion of Europe by passing sentence upon her, nor would she pronounce openly in favour of the responsibUity of Princes. She wished only to force the Queen of Scots to abandon her defence, to throw herself unreservedly on her own forbearance and agree to terms — the meaning of which, however plausibly disguised, would have been a substantial confession of guilt. Still detaining the Bishop in London, therefore, she wrote to Knollys to say that, ' for avoiding the extre mities ' which appeared to be impending over her, she 1 Proceedings, Thursday, December 16. — Goodall, vol. ii. The Reign of Elizabeth. 351 advised the Queen of Scots to confirm the abdication chap xvi which she had made at Lochleven. She might ground it ,56g on her weariness of government and on her desire to see December her son established on the throne. She might herself remain in England as long as might seem convenient, ' and the whole cause wherewith she had been charged would be then committed to perpetual oblivion.' l She desired Knollys to use his influence to bring her to comply. He might tell her ' that as matters could be proved, she could in no way discharge herself of the murder.' If the Regent or the Regent's friends had been parties to it also, their guilt did not excuse hers. It was impossible, without offence to God and con science, ' to bear so far with a murderess as to restore her to her estate.' The English Government could not do it, and would not aUow another Power to do it ; and, if she continued obstinate, 'her crime must be notified to the world.' The Queen of Scots had pub licly laid title to the English Crown, and had never made satisfaction for that wrong. It would be there fore foolish and childish to set her at liberty, and give the opportunity of stirring fresh troubles with her friends abroad. There would be a civil war in Scotland through the HamUtons, and her child ' could have no long continuance ' amidst the factions there. All these inconveniences would be remedied by her abdication. The present order would be maintained; the Prince would be brought up in England, and educated with a prospect of succeeding to the English crown.2 1 Elizabeth to Knollys, December to Knollys were an afterthought, and 22. — Goodall, vol. ii. that at first the Queen had intended 8 Minute of a memorial in Cecil's to press for an answer. A letter is hand, December 22. — Cotton MSS., extant, dated one day before Cecil's Calig. C. 1. minute, from Elizabeth to the Queen It would seem as if these directions of Scots, written as if there were no 352 History of England. Chap XVI 1568 December If the advice failed to produce its effe'ct, it was hinted that Sir Francis might try what could be done by another removal. At Bolton, under charge of Lord Scrope, the Queen of Scots was stUl comparatively among her friends. If she was carried deeper into the realm, and kept in closer confinement at Tutbury such underhand purposes at all ; the only suspicious feature in it being the compliment to the Bishop of Ross, who was intended to have been the bearer of it. As the Bishop did not go till some days after, the letter was probably never sent ; but it is worth preserving, as showing how extremely uncertain Elizabeth was, as to how she should proceed. ' Madame (so Elizabeth wrote), — While your cause hath been here treated upon we thought it notneedful to write , anything thereof unto you, supposing always that your commis sioners would thereof advertise as they saw cause. And now since they have broken this conference by refusing to make answer, as they say by your commandment, and for that purpose they return to you ; although we think you shall by them perceive the whole proceedings, yet we cannot but let you understand that as we have been very sorry of long time for your mishaps and great troubles, so find we our sorrows now doubled in beholding such things as are pro duced to prove yourself cause of all the same ; and our grief herein is also increased in that we did not think at any time to have seen or heard such matter of so great appear ance to charge and condemn you. Nevertheless, both in friendship, na ture, and justice, we are minded to cover these matters and stay our judgment, and not gather any senoe hereof to your prejudice, before we may learn of your direct answer thereunto, according as your commis sioners understood our direct mean ing to be ; and as we trust they will advise you for your honour to agree to make answer, so surely, both as a Prince and near cousin, most earnestly as we may in terms of friendship we require and charge you not to forbear from answering ; and for our part, as we are heartily sorry and dismayed to find such matters of your charge, so shall we be as heartily glad and well contented to hear of sufficient matter for your dis charge. Although we doubt not but you are well certified of the diligence and care of your ministers having your commission, yet can we not but especially note unto your good choice of the Bishop of Ross, who hath not only faithfully and warily, but also so carefully and diligently, behaved himself both privately and publicly, as we cannot but in this sort commend him unto you ; for in our judgment we think ye have not any that in loyalty and faithfulness can overmatch him ; and this we are the bolder to write because we take it the best trial of a good servant to be jn adversity, out of which we heartily wish you to be delivered by justification of your innocency, for otherwise no liberty can profit you in sight of the world.'— MSS. Qubot of Scots, December 21, Rotts House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 353 Castle,1 her spirit might perhaps be tamed. But Eliza- Chap xvi beth would give no commands. She expected Sir I56g Francis, like her other servants, to act for himself, :DcC("^er and to be disavowed if the consequences were incon venient. Once already Sir Francis had been made use of in this way. He did not care to be so treated a second time. He was profoundly loyal to Elizabeth. He believed that the underhand policy which she was pursuing wjth the Queen of Scots was precisely the most dangerous which she could have chosen, and the plain language in which he expressed himself shows that Elizabeth's Ministers did not hesitate to teU her disagreeable truths. 'As touching this Queen's removing,' he wrote, 'your ' Majesty and Mr. Secretary have wished it, and every ' man thinks it necessary, and I am .provoked to take ' the matter in hand without sufficient warrant, as I ' did at Carlisle. But if I might .speak with reverence, 'your Majesty hath dealt with her, removings, both at ' CarUsle and now again, as though your Majesty would ' gladly all was well, so that it was nothing long of your- ' self. And surely your Majesty's forbearing to assist us ' at Carhsle with your sufficient authority — far contrary ' to* our expectations — hath stricken the hope of main- ' tenance and good backing of me in your service, so ' far from my heart that I shall never be so hardy as ' to adventure upon such an enterprise again, without ' sufficient warrant beforehand for the accomplishment ' thereof. And this example, added to divers other, ex- ' periences that I have had and seen since your Majesty's ' reign, hath made me the more to fear your Majesty's ' estate if any sharp troubles should happen to arise. 1 On the Trent in Staffordshire, not far from Burton. ELIZ. III. A A 354 History of England. Chap xvi ' Wherewith being disquieted, I was so bold before the I568 ' ' entrance of the great consultation, to advise your Ma- Deeember t jegty to }ay the whole burden of this weighty matter ' upon your faithful councillors, and to encourage, and ' maintain and back them, by your Majesty's following. ' of their resolutions, fully and whoUy without delay or ' alteration ; for if your Majesty, after your good and ' faithful councillors have resolved, shall discourage ' them by staying your assent thereunto until aU the ' passions of your mind be satisfied, then how your ' faithful servants may be discouraged thereby to stand ' you at your need it is doubtful, or rather fearful, for ' me to consider.'1 How it fared with the other, part of KnoUys' instruc tions will be presently seen. Meanwhile the imme diate cause of the Queen of Scots formed but a part of Elizabeth's perplexities ; and events in the Netherlands, events in the English Channel, events far away in the Gulf of Mexico, combined to agitate yet further the passions of which Knollys spoke. As if to give point to his warnings of danger, a series of reverses had driven Conde back from the Loire ; and the Prince of Orange in the Netherlands had fared scarcely better than his . brother. He had taken his thirty thousand Germans over the Meuse, expecting that the country would rise on the Spaniards, and that Alva would be forced into a battle. The country lay quiet till Alva had been first defeated ; and Alva, knowing that time would fight for him, and that the Prince's scanty finances would soon be exhausted, declined to fight except at certain advan tage. The Germans, after a few weeks of ineffectual marching, began to mutiny and desert. The Prince had to. retreat, without even the honour of a lost engage- 1 Knollys to Elizabeth, December 26. — MSS. Queen oe Soots. The Reign of Elizabeth. 355 ment ; and feeling that the Papists were his real ene- Chap xvi mies, and that it mattered little to which nation they be- I568 longed, he thought at first of crossing France and join- Deoemb6r ing Conde\ But his men refused to follow him, and at the time of the conference at Westminster, he was fall ing back into Nassau, bankrupt, it seemed, in fortune and reputation. On land all was going ill ; on another element, however, the Protestants found better fortune. The ocean gave a home to those whom the land had rejected, and Rochelle became the rendezvous of the French, Dutch, and English privateering crusaders, who in their hght swift cruisers hovered round the mouth of narrow seas, and preyed on Catholic commerce under whatever flag it sailed. With these lawless heroes EUzabeth's Government had a natural affinity. Most of the vessels had been built in English yards or were manned by Enghsh subjects. They were carrying on war at no cost to the Crown against the general enemy of the Reformation, and even CecU was reconciled^ at last to men whose marauding doings were covered by the *flag of a Protestant prince. ChatiUon's mission to London was to persuade Elizabeth, if possible, to re new the alliance of 1 562, to forget Havre and its misfor tunes, and to use the opportunity once more to recover Calais, or some town which she might hold as security for the restoration of Calais. The temptation was strong, especially when the French Government showed signs of favouring Mary Stuart. Elizabeth talked meta- phoricaUy to La Mothe Fenelon of her lion's nature, gentle and soft unless provoked, and then terrible in her anger. Portault, the Prince of Conde's admiral, went and came among the English ports, and sold his prize cargoes in Plymouth market. Admiral Winter, with Elizabeth's own fleet, was preparing for sea, and A A 2 356 History of England. Chap xvi intended, as was believed, to carry money, powder, and ~^T arms to Rdchelle,. December Elizabeth herself, when La Mothe pressed her closely, of course insisted that she -had no such meaning as was imputed to her. She disavowed all interest in Conde ; if her subjects showed favour to the pirates, she said that it was without her knowledge and against her orders. La Mothe reminded her that she herself did not tole rate two religions in England ; she ought not to be surprised, therefore, if the French Government followed her example. She said (and her answer was remark able), that her policy in religious matters had been only to keep the peace ; if Catholics and Protestants had been allowed their separate services, they would have been perpetually fighting ; and if the Queen-mother had consulted her in the first instance, she would have advised, that as, after all, both parties worshipped the same God, one service or the other should have been .prohibited in France. Since the Queen-mother had pre ferred to attempt toleration, it would have been better -if the experiment had lasted longer. She understood the difficulty, however. She had no sympathy with the Huguenots, and she trusted, that the defeats which they had sustained would be a lesson everywhere to subjects who took up arms against their Princes.1 Yet all this meant nothing, except so far as it was a description of the principles of Elizabeth's own govern ment. Chatillon appeared openly at court. The proba bility of a war with France was freely talked of, and the desirableness of it was discussed and approved by the CouncU of Peers who had met at the Hampton Court 1 La Mothe Fenelon au Roy, December 5 and 10. — Depeehes, vol. i. [The Reign of Elizabeth. 357 Conference. The petition of the Prince of Orange found Chap xvi no favour with the Queen. He had pleaded on the ground I568 of a common religion, and the danger to England from Deoember the triumph of the Spaniards in the Low Countries. The English nobles did not recognise the identity of religion. They were, most of them, well inclined to Spain, and Orange obtained nothing except some 30,000^. raised by subscription for him in the Protestant churches. Against France, on the other hand, there -was the old national animosity. The wound of Calais was still fresh and rankling, and however strong might be the feeling of men Uke Arundel and Norfolk against the Huguenots, their patriotism was not unwilUng to submit to an alli ance with them if the lost jewel could be replaced in the English tiara. Such was the general sentiment of the Council, and it was probably shared by Ehzabeth. CecU only thought differently. Cecil alone of the Queen's advisers comprehended the true bearing of European politics. To him the recovery of a single poor town was as nothing compared to the stake for which the great game was being played; and Cecil saw that the real enemy of Eng land was not France, but Spain. France, rent in half by the civil war, must either tolerate the Reformers, or exhaust her strength in holding them' down. Spain erect, united, Catholic in heart and inteUect, and blazing with religious enthusiasm — Spain, if she conquered Protes tantism in the Netherlands, would soon, as Orange said, conquer it in England also. It was idle to say this to the Peers at Hampton Court, for half of them desired nothing better than PhUip's successful interference. Cecil therefore contented him self with throwing obstacles in the way of the quarrel with France. There was not sufficient provocation, he 358 History of England. Chap xvi said. They were unprepared. If they began with ,568 France they might have Spain on their hands also before December &^\ was over. Conde" might be assisted indirectly, but open war was unnecessary and dangerous. Leicester and Pembroke went with him, and they took the Queen along with them. She told La Mothe Fefielon that as long as the question was merely between subject and sovereign she would not interfere ; if the Catholic Powers entered into the long-talked-of league against herself, then, but only then, she would make a counter-league and fight out the quarrel.1 As regarded Spain, and as a means of at least in directly helping Orange, Cecil was preparing for an act of desperate audacity, to which, by some unknown means, he had obtained EUzabeth's warrant. The story turns to the Spanish Main. It wUl be remembered that Philip's Government, on hearing that Sir John Hawkins was preparing on a large scale for a. third voyage to the West Indies, had given formal notice to Elizabeth that unless these buc caneering expeditions were prohibited, serious conse quences would follow. Sir John had been sent for by the Council: he had been reprimanded, enjoined to respect the laws which closed the ports of the Spanish Colonies against unlicensed traders, and de Silva was told that Philip should have no further ground for com plaint. Elizabeth, however, who had lent Hawkins ships of her own, and thus was interested in the adven ture, interfered reluctantly. The slave trade was so profitable, that on the last voyage she had realised sixty per cent, on the capital' which she and her Council had risked upon it. Hawkins persuaded her that he would 1 La Mothe Fenelon au Roy, December zi.—Dipeches, vol. i. The Reign of Elizabeth. 359 not only himself be ruined if he was prevented from Chap xvi sailing, but that the crews whom he had engaged, if he I56g turned them adrift, would be ' driven to misery,' and December 'be ready to commit any folly.' He promised that ' he would give no offence to the least of her Highness's allies and friends.' ' The voyage which he pretended was to lade negroes in Guinea, and sell them in the West Indies, in truck of gold, pearls, and emeralds, whereof he doubted not but to bring home great abun dance, to the contentation of her Highness and the benefit of the whole realm.' a The sale of negroes in the West Indies being the very thing which PhiUp was most desirous to prevent, it was not very clear how it could be prosecuted as innocently as Hawkins pretended. His arguments how ever, or the greatness of the temptation, satisfied Eliza beth's scruples. In October 1567, he sailed from Ply mouth with five well-appointed vessels, one of them the Queen's ship * Jesus,' which carried his flag on his first voyage ; and among those who went with him was the after-hero of English history, his young ' kinsman,' Francis Drake. The voyage, though commencing with a storm, was prosperous beyond the most glittering hopes which he had formed upon his past successes. Hawkins ran down to Sierra Leone, where he formed an aUiance with a tribe which were at war with a neighbouring tribe. He sacked a densely peopled town, and was rewarded with as many prisoners as he could stow ; and by the spring of the foUowing year he was among the Spanish settle ments, doing a business which realised the wildest dreams 1 Sir John Hawkins to Elizabeth, September 15, 1567.— Domestic MSS., Rolls House. 360 History of England. Chap xvi of Eldorado. Where the ports were open he found an I568 easy market; where the governor attempted to keep December ^^ out j^ forcec[ an entrance as usual, and found the planters no less willing to deal with him. Stray ships were stopped and plundered where their cargoes were worth the seizure. And thus before the summer was over, he had amassed, in bars of gold and silver, in precious stones and other commodities, property worth more than a million pounds.1 Before he could sail for England the ships' bottoms required a scouring. Their spars had suffered in a gale of wind in the Gulf of Mexico. At the beginning of September, therefore, he put into St. Jean de Luz fo refit, take in water and provisions, ahd dispose of four hundred negroes, ' the best ahd choicest' which he had, that stiU remained unsold.2 The halcyon weather was about to close in a tornado. The smaU harbour of Jean de Luz is formed by a natural break- water which lies across the mouth of the bay. The day after the English ships entered, a Span ish fleet appeared outside, consisting of thirteen men of war, the smallest of them larger than the ' Jesus : ' a force from which in the open sea escape might have been pos sible, but with which, under fhe fairest conditions, it would have been madness to have sought an engagement. If Hawkins could have made up his mind to dispute the entrance of a Spanish admiral into one of his own harbour^, he believed that he could have saved himself, for the channel was narrow, and the enemy's numbers would give him no advantage. But neither his own nor 1 Hawkins rates the ships and a Process and examination of Haw- freight together as worth before kins' voyage.— Domestic MSS., vol. his disaster i,8oo,oooZ. Hakluyt, liii. Rolls House. vol. iii. p 620. The Reign of Elizabeth. 361 Elizabeth's ingenuity could have invented a pretext for Chap xvi an act of such desperate insolence. At best he would "i'568 be blockaded, and sooner or later would have to run. D<,ceml>er The Spaniards passed in and anchored close on board the Englishmen. For three days there was an inter change of ambiguous courtesies. On the fourth Philip's admiral had satisfied himself of Hawkins' identity. He had been especially sent upon this coast to look for him ; and by the laws of nations he was unquestionably justified in treating the English commander as a pirate. The form of calling on him to surrender was dispensed with. The name of Hawkins was so terrible that the Spaniards dared not give him warming that he was to be attacked. They took possession of the mole in the dark, and mounted batteries upon it ; and then from shore and sea every gun which could be brought to bear opened upon the ' Jesus ' and her comrades. Taken by surprise, for many of their boats' crews were in the town, the Eng lish fought so desperately that two of the largest of the Spanish ships were sunk, and another set on fire. Themen on shore forced their way on board to their companions ; and, notwithstanding fhe tremendous odds, the result of the action stiU seemed uncertain, when the Spaniards sent down two fire-ships, and then Hawkins saw that aU was over, and that vessels and treasures were lost. The only hope now was to save the men. The survivors of them were crowded on board two smaU tenders, one of fifty tons, the other rather larger, and leaving the ' Jesus ' and the other ships, the gold and silver bars, the negroes, and their other spoils to burn or sink, they trawled out under the fire of the mole and gained the open sea. There their position scarcely seemed less desperate. They were short of food and water. Their vessels had suffered heavily under the fire; they were 362 History of England. Chap xvi choked up with men, and there was not a harbour west Ij6g of the Atlantic where they could venture to run ; a hun- December jre(j seamen volunteered to take their chance on shore some leagues distant down the coast, and after wandering miserably in the woods for a few days, they were taken and carried as prisoners to Mexico. Hawkins and Drake, and the rest, made sail for the English Channel, which in due time, in torn and wretched plight, they contrived to reach, and where a singular state of things was awaiting their arrival. The Duke of Alva had expected that the wars of the Netherlands would pay their own expenses. He had promised Philip that a stream of gold a yard deep should flow into the Spanish treasury from the confis cated hoards of the heretic traders. He had been less successful as a financier than as a soldier. The pay of his army was many months in arrear. The troops had won victories, but they had gained no plunder by them, and were fast breaking into dangerous mutiny. So pressing were the Duke's difficulties that Plhlip had been obliged to borrow half a million of money from two banking houses at Genoa. The bankers Lad establishments in the Netherlands, but the bullion there had been driven away or buried, and the con tract with Philip required them to deliver the loan in silver dollars at Antwerp. It was therefore sent round by sea, the chests, for greater safety, being divided among many vessels. Two or three ran the gauntlet of the Channel in safety, but information of the prize got wind among the privateers. The precious fleet had been chased, scattered, and driven into the English harbours, and the treasure for which Alva was so im patiently waiting was hiding in Foy, Plymouth, and Southampton. The basking sharks were prowling out- The Reign of Elizabeth. 363 side on the watch to seize them if they ventured to Chap xvi sail, and, as they feared, were not at all unlikely to I568 snatch them as they lay at anchor. Francesco Diaz, Deoember the captain of one of these treasure ships, when he entered Plymouth harbour, found thirteen French cruisers there, with halfa-dozen English consorts, carrying the flag of the Prince of Cond4; they were taking turns, night and day, to scour the Channel ; their commissions professed to empower them, in the service of God, to seize any Catholic ship that they came across, to whatever nation it belonged.1 They brought in their prizes under the eyes of Diaz, and sold them without interference from the authorities, the mayor being one of the most forward purchasers. He began to fear that he was in the wolf's den, from which there was no escape, and where he would be devoured if he remained.2 And he had a special ground for un easiness. Sir John Hawkins had not yet returned, nor any news of him ; but the disaster at St. Jean de Luz was known on board the Spanish ships ; and as the most mischievous of the cruisers at Plymouth were owned by WUliam Hawkins, Sir John's brother,3 the Spaniards feared that unless they could extricate themselves before the truth came out, short work would be made with them. They knew that he might be looked for any day. To put Plymouth in good humour therefore, one of them, who professed to have just returned from the Indies, pretended to bring the information for which 1 ' Algunos de los piratas ingleses y gente de los Catholicos de cualquier traen una carta de marca del Car- nacion que fuesen. Esto oi decir a dinal Chatillon que reside en Lon- un mercador espanol que habia leido dres, y en nombre del Principe de una de las dichas cartas de marca.' Conde, y diciendo que por servicio — Relacicn qui hace Francesco Diaz. de Dios daba licencia para que ro- MSS. Simancas. basen y pgjsiquiesen todos los navios 2 Ibid. 3 Ibid. 364 . History of England. Chap xvi the town was longing, and dressed his tale to flatter the i568 national pride and gratify the avarice of Hawkins' December frien(jg anc[ family. Sir John had been in the enchanted garden of Aladdin, and had loaded himself with gold and jewels. He had taken a ship with 800,000 ducats; he had sacked a town, and had taken infinite heaps of pearls and jewels there. A Spanish fleet, forty-four sail of them, had passed a harbour where he was dress-. ing his ships. The captains had held a council of war to consider the prudence of attacking him, but the Admiral had said, ' for the ships that be in the harbour I wUl not deal with them, for they being monstrous ships, will sink some of us and put us to the worse: wherefore let us depart on our voyage-; and so they did.' ' The worst boy in those ships might be a captain for riches,' and the Spaniard ' wished to God he had been one of them.' x The pleasant story was pleasantly received. It mio-ht have answered its end had there been time for it to work, but the wind which brought the fable- brought the truth behind it. Two days later William Hawkins sent to Cecil the news of the real catastrophe. Elizabeth had lost her venture, but if she was bold she might reim burse herself at Philip's cost. Philip, as the story was now told, had robbed the subjects of her Majesty; ' her Majesty might now make stay of King Philip's treasure till recompense was made ; ' or, ' if it did not please her Majesty to meddle in the matter, although she herself was the greatest loser therein,' yet Hawkins hoped ' her Majesty would give her subjects leave to meddle with it.' 'In that way he would not only have re compense to the uttermost, doing as good service as 1 Report of Hawkins' voyage, December 2, 1568. — Domestic MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 365 could be desired with little cost,' but 'he looked also Chap xvi to please God therein, for the Spaniards were God's T568- enemies.' X December A little later a small tattered bark sailed slowly into Plymouth. Francis Drake, who landed from her, rode post to London with detaUs, and William Hawkins sent by his hand a schedule of the property destroyed, and requested leave to act on the commission which he held from the Prince of Conde. It is difficult to see by what reasoning these western sailors persuaded themselves that wrong had been done by the Spaniards, unless it were — which was very much the fact — that they believed that the universe was theirs to do what they pleased with. Cecil, probably, was not under this impression; but it was an opportunity at a critical moment to assist the Prince of Orange, to cripple Alva, to punish Philip for the expulsion of Doctor Man, and, more than aU, to end Elizabeth's vaciUations, and force her into the bold position which, as it seemed to him, her safety required her to assume. The loss of money touched her to the quick. The profit which she had so nearly gained in Sir John's infamous trade she regarded as something of her own of which she had been robbed. She consulted the Bishop of Salisbury, and the exceUent Jewel confirmed the theory that God would be pleased to see the Spaniards plundered; 2 and while an intimation was sent tor Orange that a diversion would be made in his favour, Cecil was allowed to consult the vice-admiral of the West, Sir Arthur Cham- 1 William Hawkins to Cecil, De- despachado al Conde Palatino al cember 3. — Domestic MSS. Doctor Junio su mismo agente, y 3 'Supeentretantolaexortacionque dado tambien aviso al Principe de el Obispo de Sareberi, grandehe rege, Orange.' — Guerau de Espes d su habia hecho a esta Reyna para que Magd. de primero de Enero, 1569. usurpase este dinero, y como habia MSS. Simancas. 366 History of England. Chap xvi pernowne, as to the most convenient means of effecting is68 the seizure. Sir Arthur, in his younger days, had been December concerned vvith Sir Peter Carew in the western rising against Queen Mary : he was now in office under Elizabeth, and using his authority for something more than con nivance at the irregular doings of the privateers. Three- ships of his own, which he had fitted out at Dartmouth, were cruising with Portault, under command of his son Henry. At that very moment Portault was offering him 60,000 ducats for his private advantage if he would shut his eyes while the treasure was carried off for Conde. But Sir Arthur's patriotism had been stronger than his cupidity. ' Such a mass of money he conceived to be most fit for the Queen's Majesty, and not to be enter- prised by a subject.' He placed a guard over the Spanish vessels, insisting that he could not expose the Queen's Government to the reproach which would fall upon it if her good aUies, King Philip's subjects, suffered wrong in English waters; and he replied to Cecil's letter in language which showed some insight into his own sovereign's character. He admitted that there was no sufficient pretext for open violence. The vessels lay in a position where they could not be cut out by the privateers ' without slandering of the State.' Yet there were ways in which the thing might be done, and yet no fault attach to the Government. ' If it shall seem ' good to your Honour,' Sir Arthur wrote, ' that I, with ' others, shall give the attempt for the recovery of the ' treasure to her Majesty's use, which cannot be without ' blood, I wUl not only take it in hand to be brought ' to good effect, but also receive the blame thereof ' unto myself, to the end so great a commodity should ' redound to her Grace ; hoping that after bitter storms ' of her displeasure showed at the beginning to colour The Reign of Elizabeth. 367 ' the fact, I shall find the calm of her favour in such Chap xvi ' sort, as I am most willing to hazard myself to serve i568 ' her Majesty. Great pity it were that such a booty December ' should escape her Grace ; and surely I am of that mind ' that anything taken from that wicked nation is both ' necessary and profitable to our commonweal.'1 The letter ended with the vice-admiral's offer of ' his boy Henry ' to be the instrument of the exploit. Sir Arthur, doubtless, would have made clean work ; but unfortunately not more than half the treasure was in the western harbours. The rest was in Southampton water ; and the Court, if they took any of it, were determined to take aU. While Cecil was hesitating what to do, two English privateers, sailing under the flag of the Prince of Orange,2 brought into Plymouth some Spanish and Portuguese prizes said to be worth 200,000 ducats. Don Guerau sent in a complaint to Elizabeth, and at the same time mentioned the money, and , expressed alarm for its safety. Elizabeth, who perhaps had not yet made up her mind to take it, offered, with many apologies for the insecurity of the seas, either to bring it over land to London and transport it thence to Alva, or to send some of her own ships to convoy it through the Channel. The ambassador, who had heard rumours of intended mischief, accepted the second alternative as the least dangerous. He thanked the Queen for her friendUness, and had dismissed the subject from his mind, when he heard that at Foy, Plymouth, and Southampton the treasure had been simultaneously seized, brought on shore, and placed 1 Sir Arthur Champeraowne to 2 Orange as well as Conde" had Cecil, Dec. 19. — Domestic MSS. issued letters of marque. 368 History of England. 1568 December Chap xvi under guard, the crews arrested, and the ships detained.1 Sending a messenger on the instant to Alva, Don Guerau went to the Queen for an explanation. A week passed jbefore ;he could be admitted to an audience. Elizabeth then told him not to be ¦, alarmed. The audacity of the pirates had obliged her to take the money under her own charge, but that ; it would he kept in perfect safety. Don Guerau in the same tone acknowledged her kindness, but he said that the Duke of Alva was in urgent needof it,and he begged thatit might be forwarded without delay. Elizabeth played her .part awkwardly. It would have been better if she had said at first what she meant to say eventually. It had been ascertained that the money, though taken up by Philip, was the pro perty of the Genoese till it was delivered at Antwerp. After hesitating a few minutes, she said that she had herself occasion for a loan. The agents of the owners 1 Francesco Diaz thus describes the scene at Plymouth : 'The vice- admiral of those ports/ he .says, ' sent for us, and, insisted that as long as the treasure was on board he could not be answerable for its safety : and that for our own sakes, as, well as our masters', it must be unloaded at the ports. We declined to consent, soihe left us under .guard at, his own house, went to our ships with his people and took from the hold sixty-four chests of silver, which he deposited in the town-hall. A few days after he searched in like manner all the Spanish and Flemish ships in the harbour, broke up the cargoes and took out whatever he pleased, small and great. He illused our sailors, beating some, throwing others into the sea, and then distri buted us all in different prisons, say ing that ,we should be held to ex change for the Englishmen who .had been taken by the Spaniards. I asked him why he used such cruelty with your Majesty's subjects, when Spain and England were at. peace? He told me I ought to thank him fpr being more merciful than the'Duke of Alva,, who had cut off jthe;,heada of divers Englishmen in Flanders. Some of our party he sent up to London, after taking from us all tie money we possessed. . They .were thrust into a prison there, whHere many died of hunger and disease; while heretics were sent to preach the heathen gospel to them.' — Rela-; don que hace Francesco Diaz. MSS. Simancas. The Reign of Elizabeth. 369 in London were wUling that she should keep it. Don Chap xvi Guerau, with an astonishment which was probably 1568 unfeigned, declared that the money had been sent by ecem er his master to pay his troops. He would not believe that Elizabeth was serious. Ehzabeth, however, would give him no other answer. The Genoese, she said, might lend where they pleased. If they preferred her to the King of Spain, he had no right to complain. Don Guerau, as brave as he was haughty, did not waste his time in remonstrances. The seizure, so far as he could learn, originated in the determination of Cecil to support the Prince of Orange. Half the money was to be sent to the Prince, to enable him to raise another army ; the rest was to be spent in doubling the English fleet,1 No time was to be lost. The EngUsh trade with Flanders, though diminished, was still the main source of the wealth of the London merchants, Don Guerau drew up a statement of the circumstances in Spanish and EngUsh, which he circulated in the city, and sent his secretary in a swift boat across the Channel to urge Alva to immediate reprisals. London, he hoped, would mutiny and force the Queen to yield. The Duke, to whom the loss of the money was a serious inconvenience, required no urging;, by an order instant and summary, every English resident in the Low Countries was arrested, every EngUsh ship was seized, the cargoes sequestered and the crews imprisoned ; couriers sped across France to Philip that the embargo might be extended to Spain and Italy, before the Eng lish could take the alarm and fly. 1 Guerau de Espes to Philip, De- criminate plunder : some boxes of cember 27 and January 1. De Espes sweetmeats were taken, which the to the Duke of Alva, December 30. Duchess of Alva had sent to her MSS. Simancas. At Southampton as husband. well as Plymouth there was indis- ELIZ. III. B B 370 History of England. Chap xvi It seems that Elizabeth had expected that her excuse 1569 would be accepted, that she could accomplish safely by January & fafc -what she would not venture to attempt by force. When she found that she had failed, her heart for a moment sank.1 The catastrophe so long threatened had come, and Spain, the old ally, whose connection with England had outlived, so far, the shock of the Reformation, was an enemy at last. But it was too late to retire. A retaliatory edict was issued. All Spaniards and Netherlanders in England found them selves prisoners. The order of arrest was extended to the Channel, where eveiy vessel owned by a subject of PhUip was declared liable to seizure. At eleven o'clock on a January night, the mayor and aldermen went round to the merchants' houses, sealed up their ware houses and carried them off from their beds to the Fleet. Frightened families of Spaniards crowded for protec tion to the Ambassador. The ports were closed ; Don Guerau's own letters were intercepted, and he himself, to prepare for the worst, burnt such of his papers as were dangerous. The immediate advantage in the arrest was largely on the side of England; even without Philip's silver, the value of the Spanish and Flemish goods detained far exceeded what had been seized by Alva. Yet the maimer in which the breach had been brought about was not creditable. The suppression of trade created general discontent in London, and an affront so bpeh to an ally eould not but seem objectionable to the old English Peers, who looked on Orange as a rebel, and cared little for the heretics whom Alva was burning and beheading. The new question which had arisen 1 4 A la Reyna le tomaron unas grandes cascas quando le sup 6.'— Do Guerau to Philip, January 8. MSS. Simancas. The Reign of Elizabeth. 371 divided parties in the same line on which they had been Ohap xvi already separated by the cause of the Queen of Scots. 1569 The prospect of a war with Spain kindled the hopes of BimiU7 the Catholics, and made her friends more anxious than ever to secure Philip's mterest for her. The Bishop of Ross told Don Guerau that all the noblemen who were interested for his mistress would stand by Spain in the present quarrel. Mary Stuart herself, so sanguine was she, sent him word that if the King of Spain Would help her, she would in three months be Queen of England, and mass should be said in every church throughout the island;1 and stealthy language of the same kind began to be used to him by English Peers themselves. Don Guerau's instructions left him unable to enter into any engagements in Mary Stuart's interests ; but under the new circumstances he held himself at liberty to hear what her friends had to say ; and the Earl of Northum berland came one night to his house, and had a long conversation with him. Unfortunately for the CathoUc* cause, an awkward quarrel had arisen among the noble men most inclined to it. Lord Dacres of Naworth, the richest and most powerful of the northern Peers, 'had died in 1566, leaving one son and three daughters. The son, while still in his minority, was killed three years later by a fall from his horse. The widow had married the Duke of Norfolk, and had died also a few months later, leaving the Duke the guardian of her children. According to ancient usage, the Dacres estate would have gone with the title to the late lord's brother, Leonard. But Norfolk, not for his wards' sake entirely, but to 1 'La Reyna de Escocia dixo al de Tnglaterra ylamisase celebrara criado mio, direis al Embajador por toda ella.' — Don Guer auto PhUip, que si su amo me quiere socOrrer, January 8. MSS. Simancas. •antes de tres meses yo sere- Reyna BBS 372 History of England. Chap xvi secure the splendid inheritance in his own family, had Ij69 betrothed the girls to his three sons, and claimed the January property for them against their uncle. The suit was pending at this particular moment. Leonard Dacres— Leonard of the crooked back as he was called — had assumed the title and taken possession of Naworth Castle. He was a strong Catholic, and his cause was warmly supported by the Earls of Northumberland, Cumberland, and many of the gentry of the northern shires. There was a general unwillingness to see an other great family perish out of the already attenuated ranks of the English Peerage. The Queen was holding the balance between the claimants, and the decision seemed likely to rest rather with her than with the judges. With the prospect of a revolution which would transfer the crown to Mary Stuart, the Northern Lords had been throughout unfavourable to the scheme for marrying her to the Duke of Norfolk, who was not a Catholic, and, too powerful already, would then carry all before him. They had communicated their views to the Queen of Scots herself, but she was anxious at any rate to use Norfolk's help till she was extricated from her difficulties, and begged them to be silent.1 The injunction, however, did not extend to the Span ish Ambassador. Northumberland was ambitious for her, and he asked Don Guerau whether Philip himself might not, in the interests of the Church, be induced to take her. The Ambassador, who was in bed, said nothing, but 'wagged his head on the pillow as though he 1 ' Some liked her marriage one foreign Prince ; but this was kept way and some another way. The secret among ourselves, for that the Earl of Westmoreland and some of Queen sent to me, and I think to the Nortons liked well the match some others too, to will us to seem with the Duke. My cousin Dacres contented and to like the matck.'-r- and I wished her bestowed on a Confession of the Earl of Northumr sound Catholic, even if it was some berland. Border MSS., Rolls House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 373 meant it could not be.' x If the Queen of Scots wished Chap xvx it, he said that Don John of Austria might not be so 1569 impossible, but for the present union among the Catholics was of the first importance. They should agree together on some common course, and other questions could be settled afterwards. At aU events it was agreed that the Ambassador should urge Philip to take up the Queen of Scots' cause, while the Catholic nobles in the Council and out of it should draw together, form a party with the more moderate Protestants, and either force the Queen to change her policy, or place themselves at Philip's disposition.2 Don Guerau was now satisfied that Cecil had made a false move, and that he at least could be overthrown. He suggested to La Mothe Fenelon that they two together should demand Cecil's dismissal of the Queen, as the enemy of the quiet of Christendom. If she refused, France might unite with Spain in closing the harbours of the Continent against the English. The Catholics outnumbered the Protestants, and that one step, bringing ruin as it would on half the families in the country, would ensure a revolution.3 He wrote to PhUip to the same purpose, advising him to use his influence with the Court of Paris. If Europe refused to trade with England till England was reconciled to Rome, Cecil would be overthrown, and without Cecil the Queen would do as the Catholics wished. ' It is Cecil,' he said, 'who rules aU now, and prompts the villain tricks which trouble us. No words can teU the depth of CecU's heresy; and as he sees the Protestant 1 Confession of the Earl of Nor- own confession. Don Guerail only thumberland. — Border MSS., Rolls did not mention to his master the House. marriage which the Earl had pro- 2 The account of the interview jected for him. given by Don Guerau to Philip 3 La Mothe a la Reyne-m&re, De- agrees closely with Northumberland's cember 28. — Dipeohm, vol, i. 374 History of England. Chap xvi cause going to the ground he grows as furious as if ,S69 possessed by ten thousand fiends.' And again : — ' The January g^gf gf ^he CouncU is Cecil, a man of low extraction, cunning, false, malicious, fuU of all deceit, and so true an Englishman that he thinks all the sovereigns of Christendom cannot conquer this island. He it is who governs all. He is diligent, acute, and never keeps. faith or word. He thinks we are none of us a match for him ; and so far he has succeeded, but now he is verging to his fall.'1 For the present, indeed, Cecil's star was still domi nant. Don Guerau's house had been watched, and his. midnight visitors had been seen though not identified. A few days after the general arrest the Ambassador was ordered to consider himself a prisoner within his own walls, and to think himself happy that he was treated with more respect than his master had treated Doctor Man. A guard was placed at his gates, and a brother of Sir Francis Knollys was placed in charge of him. But Don Guerau believed that he could afford to despise affronts of this kind, and that heresy had made CecU blind. In writing to a friend he described himself as a prisoner to Queen Oriana, but he professed to make a jest of his enchantment, and he sent the note unsealed that the guard might see the contempt which he felt for his gaolers.2 1 Relacion dada por Don Guerau Knollys, enclosing the note to de Espes. Cecil, says : — 2 ' Do not be surprised to hear that ' By this you may see his boldness, I am arrested. In this, island there his devotion, his stomach. Wewatch are the enchantments of Amadis. the fox with care and diligence; Arcelaus lives — but I am well and in but his berry is large, and on every health, and though I am a prisoner part full of starting holes — our nets to Oriana, I fancy we Bhall not need be slender and weak, and I doubt an Urganda to make it all end in not you see the peril.' — Spanish comedy.' MSS., Roils House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 375 The CouncU were provoked at his impertinence, and Chap xvi united in telUng him ' that such vain fancies and poesies 1569 were unbecoming. He would be treated as a seditious insolent person, unfit to be admitted into the presence of a Prince, and he should serve as an example to aU others who should dare to attempt the like.' x So far Arundel and Norfolk went along with Cecil and Bacon ; but in pubUc policy wide differences were opening, and Don Guerau was not without reason for his confidence. Cecil knowing that the Spanish Government was still too much embarrassed with the Netherlands to go to war with England, except at the last extremity, but knowing also that if the Protestants on the Continent were crushed, England's turn must inevitably follow, was not inclined to sit still tUl the enemy was at the gates. He desired to show the struggling nations that England was not afraid, of the giant who was trampling on them ; he proposed to assist them as far as possible short of openly taking part in the quarrel, and by com mitting the Queen to their cause, determine, her also to a more consistent course with the growing difficulties at home. But the old-fashioned statesmen were now decidedly against him. The Peers and even the CouncU were split in factions. Catholics, semi- Catholics, AngU cans, moderates differed among themselves, but were all afraid of CecU and eager to turn to account the present opportunity. Representations were made to Elizabeth that the money must be given up. The Duke of Norfolk, not contented with remonstrating with Elizabeth, ex pressed his disapproval of the seizure to Don Guerau himself. T, he ferment was so great, both at the Court and in the City, that the Queen to quiet it issued a not Reply of the Council to Don Guerau, January 1 4. — Spanish MSS. 376 History of England. Chap xvi very honest proclamation, laying the blame of the quarrel T^T on SPaim January The treasure-ships, she said, had been driven by pirates into Enghsh harbours, and she had taken charge of the money at the Spanish Ambassador's re quest. She had then discovered that it did not belong to the King of Spain, but was the property of ' certain merchants.' ' She was considering whether, being thrust as it were into her hands, she might not herself borrow some part of it, when, at the first move, and without waiting for an explanation, the Duke of Alva had laid violent hands on the . English ships and cargoes in the Netherlands, and had so forced her to retaliate.' x The effect which this new element of discord would produce on the process of the Queen of Scots was at first uncertain. Either, as Cecil hoped, the sudden boldness towards Spain would be the commencement of a firmer policy, or it might be that with the prospect of war upon her hands, the Queen would still persist in temporising. For some days previous to the arrest it had seemed that Cecil would have his way. The Duke of Norfolk, who was opposed to him on foreign policy, appeared to go with him about Mary Stuart; either because he was playing a deep game, or because he was aware of the objections of Northumberland and other of the Catholics to his marriage with her. Sir Francis Knollys had laid before her Elizabeth's' advice that she should abdicate, and a letter from the Bishop of Ross showed that he had ceased to hope, and that she must choose between compliance and disgrace. In a private interview with Cecil, Leicester, and Nor-1 Royal Proclamation, January 6.^Domestic MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 377 folk, the Bishop found 'that judgment was almost Chap xvi confirmed in favour of her adversaries.' He had argued 1569 and prayed^ 'but nothing altered them.' 'The Duke anuar:,r of Norfolk was sorest of the three.' The disdain of the King, the advancing of Bothwell, the conspiracy of the murder, all seemed to be so distinctly proved, that unless the Queen of Scots would either reply through her commissioners, or submit without qualification, the evi dence against her would be published and the enquiry end in her formal condemnation.1 The Queen of Scots herself had been equally despon dent. She had borne up at first against Knollys with all her pride and firmness ; she stood upon her rights ; she said that she would five and die a Queen ; she would not degrade herself by answering to her subjects' ac cusations. 'Finding her persist in her old humour,' Knollys told her he was not surprised that she would not answer. ' He thought her the wiser woman, because it passed his capacity to see how by just defence she could disburden herself of the crimes that were laid against her.' She said she could defend herself if she pleased. Knollys told her that she had better do it then, for if she refused ' she would provoke the Queen his mistress to take her as condemned and to publish the same to her utter disgrace and infamy.' She still 'answered stoutly;' 'she said she would make all princes know how evil she was handled ; she had come on trust into England; she could not believe the Queen would condemn her, hearing her adversaries and not hearing her.' But Knollys made her understand that she was not 1 The Bishop of Ross to John Fitzwilliam, December 25. — MSS. Qtjkeh of Scots, Rolls House. 378 History of England. Chap xvi refused a hearing when she could be heard by counsel, 6 or heard in private by a commission. After her inju- january rious ' claiming and making title to the crown,' she had nothing to complain of in her treatment. She must meet the charges against her in detaU, and really dis prove them, or else she must submit. ' By courtesy and discreet behaviour she might yet provoke the Queen, to save her honour, and cause the accusations, and writings that were to be showed against her to be committed to oblivion.'1 She said that if she submitted, it would be construed into a confession that she was guilty. She was afraid of being ' entrapped and allured.' 2 She consulted Scrope, but Scrope gave her the same advice ; and both to him and Knollys it appeared, that if she could be assured that her letters would not be published, and if the Bishop of Ross, when he came down to, her, used the same language as Knollys had used, she would give' way. AU, however, depended upon Elizabeth's firm ness. The Queen of Scots would hold out ' as long as one foot of hope was left to her. She was persuaded that God had given Ehzabeth such temperature of affection that she would never disgrace her, however she should refuse to yield to conformity ; ' and Knollys had the courage to repeat to the Queen, that ' although her Majesty's judgment must needs be ruled by such affec tions and passions of her mind as happened to have dominion over her,' in her actions she would do wisely to accept 'the resolutions digested by the deliberate consultation of her most faithful councillors.'3 1 Sir F. KnoUys to Elizabeth, De- Burghley. Papers, vol. i. ; and again cember 26. — Queen of Scots' MSS. to Cecil, December 31, Knollys 2 Ibid. writes: — * Knollys to Elizabeth, Jan. 1.— ' This Queen does not seem to my The Reign of Elizabeth. 379 Unfortunately, at the moment when it was necessary Chap xvi to act, and when her constitutional irresolution made a ls6g decision, as usual, so difficult, Elizabeth's ' passions, and 3amislIy affections' were irritated by a ridiculous accident. She was on the point of yielding to Cecil, and of assuming an attitude more becoming in a Protestant sovereign ; a part of this bolder policy would have been an open declaration in favour of the Earl of Murray, when a Protestant bishop used the opportunity to offend her on the point where she was most sensitive. Marriage, under all forms, was disagreeable to her ; the marriage of the clergy was detestable ; the marriage, and espe ciaUy the re-marriage of her prelates, approached incest. Dr. Coxe, the Bishop of Ely, a grey -haired old gentleman — one of the patriarchs of the Reformation — had be*en left a widower, and at his age he might, with no great difficulty, have remained in that condition. But it could not be. He explained his difficulty to Cecil with ludicrous gravity. He said that he wished ' to spend the remainder of his Ufe without offence to God. The Queen's displeasure was deafh to him, but the dis pleasure of the Almighty was more to be dreaded. The Almighty had left him without one special gift, and placed him in the number of those who could not receive the saying of Christ. He was between Scylla and Lord Scrope nor me greatly to mis- rather upon assurance that her Ma- like our advice for her yielding in this jesty would save her honour and use matter, but she depends much upon her favourably. But if the Bishop the coming of the Bishop of Ross, of Ross and the rest of her commis- and she mistrusts to be allured and sioners shall find her Majesty to be not to be plainly dealt withal for the tender, and shrinking either to deal saving of her honour. Whatever • straightly with her until she do the Bishop of Ross shall persuade yield, or to maintain my Lord of her, if her Majesty would handle this Murray's, government throughly, matter stoutly and roundly, I think then surely I look not for her yield- verily she would yield upon hope or ing.'— Co.CTOJSf MSJS. Calig. C. I. 380 History of England. Chap xvi Charybdis ; but it was more dreadful to fall into the hands i569 of the living God;' and a second wife was a necessity.1 January ^Q mcontinenee 0f the Bishop came opportunely to the help of the Queen of Scots. Either this flagrant illustration of the tendencies of Protestantism, or the » Spanish difficulty, or her own incurable vacillation* destroyed at the last moment Elizabeth's almost com pleted purpose. She sent down the Bishop of Ross to Bolton, apparently to confirm the message sent through- Sir Francis Knollys ; but at her parting interview she told him pointedly that, ' come what would, his mistress should be a Queen still;' and 'by speech, gesture, or countenance' she made him understand that he need not be alarmed — she meant to keep her promises and ' deal favourably ' with the Queen of Scots after all. Satisfied now that all was weU, the Bishop flew to Bolton. He carried with him the happy news that the Council was in confusion, that England was on the eve of a war with Spain, and that a Catholic revolution was immediately impending. He had seen the Spanish Am bassador; he carried letters or brought messages from the Earl of Northumberland ; and at once from the edge of despondency Mary Stuart sprang back into energy and life. She was again the sovereign princess, with all her rights and all her pride. She sent word, as has been seen, to Don Guerau that with PhiUp's help she would in three months be Queen of England. She saw herself in imagination pass with a spring from her prison to the first place in Catholic Europe, and protected by Elizabeth from the only blow which she feared. She wrote a letter to her friends in Scotland, to lash 1 ' Me etiam senem suo dono desti- ut ait Christus Dominus Noster.'— tuit, et in illorum me vult esse nu- The Bishop of Ely to Cecil, Decem- mero qui non capiunt verbum hoc — ber 29. Domestic MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 381 them into fury preparatory to the expected insurrection. Chap xvi She described herself as betrayed, tricked, oppressed. i569 The Earl of Murray had compounded with Ehzabeth to Jimua17 betray the Prince and admit English garrisons into Edinburgh and Stirling. Scotland was to be held in fee of the Enghsh crown, and its ancient independence destroyed. It was said that the Prince was to be Elizabeth's successor; but Cecil and Murray had con cluded a private arrangement in favour of the children of the Earl of Hertford. Scotland was betrayed — be trayed foully by Murray — ' to the ancient and natural enemies of the realm.' They had begun with attempt ing to persuade her ' to renounce her crown,' but God and good Scotch hearts would provide a remedy. ' In the spring they would have help of their friends.' Meanwhile, they must proclaim Murray's treason in every corner of the land, and hold the rebels in check tUl foreign aid should come.1 Every word of this letter was false ; but the Queen of Scots knew that it would answer its immediate pur pose, in stirring Scottish pride ; and at the same time, and to prevent further trouble with the casket letters, a party of Yorkshire CathoUcs, the Nortons of Norton Conyers and others, undertook to intercept Murray on his return to the Border, kiU him, and destroy the papers.2 Having thus fired Mary Stuart with new hopes, the Bishop went again to London to concert further measures with his friends among the Peers. His first step was characteristic and curious. He was aware that Elizabeth was haunted by the spectre of a possible 1 The Queen of Scots to the Abbot about Northallerton, by the Nor- of Arbroath, January — . tons, Markinfleld, and others.' — Con- 2 ' Murray was to have been mur- fession of the Bishop of Ross. Mt/rdik, dered on his way back to Scotland p. 52. from Hampton Court, to be done 382 History of England. Chap xvi league between France and Spain and the Papacy. 1569 Information calling itself authentic had come late in anuary pggg^g^ from Paris, that ' both France and Spain had within the realm a practice for the alteration of religion and the advancement of the Queen of Scots to the crown ; ' and Walsingham, commenting upon it to Cecil, could but say that ' in the divisions reigning in England there was less danger in fearing too much than too little, and that there was nothing more dangerous than security.' x At once, whUe his mistress was inventing a lie of one sort, the Bishop of Ross composed another, to work on Elizabeth's feat's, to earn her gratitude, and to throw her off her guard by his seeming frank ness. He addressed himself to Lord Arundel as the member of the CouncU through whom it would be most easy to approach her. He said that a secret had been revealed to him, which his affection for Elizabeth forbade him to conceal. He could not be sUent when he saw danger approaching her. The King of Spain had directed the Duke of Alva and Don Guerau ' to treat and conclude with the Queen of Sdots for her marriage in "three several ways.' The King of Spain offered her either the Archduke Charies or Don John of Austria, or, if she preferred it, himself. On her acceptance of any one of these suitors, he was ready with the whole force of Spain to replace her on her own throne, and to maintain whatever interest she possessed in the throne of England. The Duke of Alva had sent an agent to England to see and consult her. The Bishop said that he had himself seen this man, learned his errand, and undertaken to lay the question before his mis tress ; but he, for his own part, wished her always to see in Elizabeth her only pUlar, and to seek no other friend. 1 Walsingham to Cecil,' December 20.— Domestic MSS. The Reign of Elizabeth. 383 Instead of carrying the message to Bolton, therefore, Chap xvi he had desired Arundel to communicate it to the Queen 1569 of England. She might use it for her best commodity, anuary and he trusted to her honour that she would not betray him.1 In the presence of the real correspondence between Philip and Don Guerau and between Philip and the Duke of Alva, it may be said with certainty that no agent had been sent from Flanders on any such business, that no such instructions had been sent to the Spanish Am bassador, and that in the whole story there was not one particle of truth. Alva was only desirous of postponing or avoiding a war, and Philip had not yet brought himself to regard the Queen of Scots as a person with whom he could entertain any kind of communication. Arundel, however, carried the Bishop's note to Elizabeth; he ha'd, perhaps, assisted in composing it. Coming as it did from the Queen of Scots' confidential minister, it answered its purpose completely in deceiving Elizabeth. It harmonized but too weU with her own alarms and with the violent arrests and reprisals; and Lord Arundel foUowed up the effect which it had manifestly produced by laying in writing before her his own objections to extreme measures against Mary Stuart. She could not but see, he said, the danger to which both she and England were exposed ; the neutrality if not the friendship of Scotland was indispensable ; and the Queen of Scots, could she make a friend of her, would be a more useful ally than the Earl of Murray. Her Majesty supposed that if she published the Queen of Scots' letters, the Queen of Scots would be ' defamed ' and disgraced, and there would be no more trouble about 1 The Bishop of Ross to the Earl of Arundel, January 3, 1569. — MSS. Queen op Scots. 384 History of England. Chap xvi her, He thought that she would find herself mistaken. 1569 The world would see only on one side a person claim- anuary ing the English throne, and on the other, 'a party to keep her from her own,' blackening her rival's reputa tion as a means of protecting herself against her pre tensions. The Queen of Scots had powerful friends in England whom the publication would mortally offend. The country was already in serious peril, and it would be far better if terms could be arranged with Murray, and the Queen of Scots be aUowed to return. ' It is not a strong persuasion for one that hath a crown,' he added significantly, ' to move another to leave her crown for that her subjects wiU not be ruled. It may be a new doctrine in Scotland, but it is not good to be taught in England.' x These last words must have touched Elizabeth to the quick. She had made up her mind a few days before to move straight-forward. Arundel's arguments found her already wavering and quickened her retreat. She had first affected to desire nothing but a compromise. By insisting on the production of the letters she had done. her best to make a compromise impossible, while she had made an enemy of Mary Stuart for ever. Now she desired to fall back upon her first plan. She was like the captain of a vessel seeking to enter an un known harbour, who, with two channels before him each intricate and dangerous, and two pUots each advocating a different course, cannot choose between them, yet listens now to one and now to another, and wiU not give up the helm to either, and so drives blindly upon the breakers. She resolved to insist no longer on the abdica tion. The Queen of Scots should remain Queen, reign Arundel to Elizabeth, January — . — MSS. Queen op Scots. The Reign of Elizabeth. 385 jointly with her son, and, should he die, resume her Chap xvi crown absolutely; she wished only to make the pro- 1569 posal ' seem to proceed from the Queen of Scots herself January without compulsion.'1 It was now the Queen of Scots' turn to assume the high tone. Seeing that Elizabeth was afraid to go forward, she instructed the Bishop of Ross to say that she was ready to reply to the charges. The Con ference had been suspended for a fortnight; nothing had passed in the interval except high words, which were followed by a chaUenge, between Lindsay and Lord Herries. On the 7 th of January the Bishop of Ross again appeared at the session. He assumed and pretended to beUeve that his mistress was still called upon to abdicate. He said that he was commanded in her name to refuse. The world would say she was her own judge, and ' she would be abhorred by the people of the whole island.' She would reduce herself to the rank of a private person and might be placed on her trial. Should her son die she would be set aside, and be in perpetual fear of her life ever after. Some one — it is uncertain who — proposed that ' she should remain in the rank of a Queen,' and ' provision might be made' for the contingency of the Prince's death.2 The Bishop said, that for no consideration would she consent. She would be deserted by her friends abroad, and her own subjects would tear themselves to pieces. She would agree to nothing, either in form or substance, which would make her less than a true Queen. The Earl of Murray and his coUeagues in accusing her had wickedly Ued. They were themselves the, first inventors 1 Note of measures to be taken, 2 Answer of the Queen of Scots, January 7.— Cotton MSS., Calig. with notes on the margin, January C. 1. 9. — MSS. Queen op Scots. ELIZ. III. C C 386 History of England. Chap xvi and conspirators of murder: some of them had been "7^7" the executors of it. She was prepared to prove her January wor(jSj an(j g^e demanded copies of the casket letters and of the other evidence, to enable her to make her defence. Elizabeth was left to make the best or the worst of the position in which she had placed herself. Neither she nor Mary Stuart intended to pursue the enquiry further. Mary Stuart had consented to answer because she knew that she would not be called upon to answer. Elizabeth had but to save her own dignity, in which she succeeded moderately well. She said she would not refuse the copies, but before they were placed in the Bishop's hands, she desired both him and his mistress to consider what they were doing. From the first she ' had herself wished to have the Queen's cause come to the best effect it might for her own weal.' ' If the said writings were delivered, she must then of necessity make answer without any cavUlation for lack of admis sion to her Majesty's presence ; and by her answers it must needs ensue that she should be proved either innocent or culpable of the horrible crimes of which she was as yet but accused and not convicted.' ' If she should not by her answers prove herself innocent, no further favour could be honourably shewn towards her. She must therefore choose whether she would put the whole matter upon direct trial, or have the cause other wise ended for her quietness and honour also.' If she determined to proceed, she must send a declaration ' under her own hand,' that if ' she should not prove her self clear and^free from the crimes imputed to her, she would then be content to forbear request of any favour at her Majesty's hands.' On the receipt by the Council of a paper to this effect, written and signed by herself, The Reign of Elizabeth. 387 copies of her letters would then be furnished to her, and Chap xvi if she was found innocent, all that reason could require "7^~ would be immediately done for her.1 January It is needless to say that no such declaration was ever made by the Queen of Scots. She had already the advantage of the position. She had not refused to answer, and was safe from exposure, which was the onlv danger that she feared. Murray's presence in England was no longer necessary. He was called before the Com missioners and informed by CecU that, whereas he and his friends had been summoned to answer before the Queen of England for their revolt agamst their sovereign, ' Nothing had been brought against them which im paired their honour and allegiance;' nor, on the other hand, ' had anything been sufficiently produced or shewn against the Queen their Sovereign, whereby the Queen of England should conceive or take any evil opinion of the Queen her good sister for anything yet seen.' The disordered state of Scotland requiring the • Earl of Murray's presence there, her Majesty would not detain him longer; 'he and his adherents' were at Uberty 'to depart in the same estate in which they were before their coming into the realm.' The meaning of this sentence was entirely intelligible to Murray. He had been tricked by false promises into bringing forward accusations which he would not have made unless with the understanding that his sister's deposition would be confirmed. Elizabeth had again made use of him for her own purposes, and intended to restore Mary Stuartj or not restore her, as it might suit her future convenience. The private arrangement with certain members of the English Council, to which he 1 Answer to the demands of the Queen of Scots, Jan. 13, in Cecil's hand. — MSS. Queen op Scots. c c 2 388 History of England. Chap xvi -was in consequence induced to consent, and the means by 1569 which he escaped from the plot which had been formed anuary ^ j^ mur(jer} wj]] fog told in the following chapter. For the present, and while still before the Commission, he required, before he departed, to be confronted with the Bishop of Ross and Lord Herries. They were brought in, and he enquired whether they intended to persist in accusing him of having had a share in the murder. They said that they had brought the charge at the command of their mistress; and when the copies of the letters were in her hands, ' they would answer in de fence of her innocence, and would also nominate par ticularly such persons as were guilty.' They were asked whether they would specially accuse the Earl of Murray, or whether they thought in their consciences that the Earl of Murray was guilty. They said that they had no certain knowledge. Information of various kinds had reached them, but it was not for them to offer their thoughts and meaning. They were acting as the representatives of their mistress, and without' further instructions they would say no more.1 Murray offered to accompany them to Bolton, that the Queen, if she dared, might accuse him in their pre sence. But the Bishop declined the proposal. He knew very well that agamst Murray she could say nothing. She might have accused Morton of having been privy to the conspiracy; she might have charged Maitland with having signed the bond at CraigmiUar; but to secure their conviction she would also have secured her own : Maitland was now her friend, and she required his services; and Maitland who with a word could have i silenced her defence, and Mary Stuart who had no 1 Proceedings at Hampton Court, Jan. 10 and 11.— Goodali, vol. ii. The Reign of Elizabeth. 389 motive for ruining him unless she was driven to des- Chap xvi peration, preferred to be mutually silent. ~6^ So terminated in impotence and self-contradiction Jamiary the long and shapeless enquiry. Murray was able to say that he was allowed to return to the Regency. The friends of the Queen of Scots could say that Elizabeth stiU refused to recognise him as Regent, and had con fessed in the sentence that the Queen of Scots' guilt had not been proved. The world at large, the continental courts, who had hitherto beUeved her to be indisputably a party to the murder, the English Catholics* whose in terest in her succession disposed them to believe in her innocence, interpreted by their wishes the inconsecutive- ness and insincerity of the conclusion. Elizabeth had desired to leave the Queen of Scots unconvicted yet with a blemished reputation ; the truth had been forced upon the Peers, and so far she had gained her object; but beyond the circle of those who had seen the letters, she had created an impression that the Queen of Scots might, after all, have been falsely accused; that Eliza beth could not condemn her, yet for her own sinister objects refused to acquit her, and had aggravated the injustice of the imprisonment by hypocrisy and perfidy. CecU has left no record of the feelings with which he witnessed so wretched a result; but so dangerous ap peared the Queen's vaciUations, that Sir Francis Knollys, next to CecU the most faithful of her ministers, beUeved her no longer capable of conducting the government. ' I see,' he wrote ' that her Majesty shall never be ' able to raise her decayed credit, nor pluck up the hearts ' of her good subjects, nor prevent and escape the perils ' that are intended towards her, unless she do utterly ' give over the government of her weighty affairs unto ' the most faithful councillors in whom she puts most 390 History of England. Chap xvi ' special trust. Surely if her Majesty would do so, and iS69 ' back them with a merry and courageous cheer, and put January t ^er trust in God for the success, then I would not ' doubt but she should have as much honour in the end, 'and as good safety withal, as she could reasonably wish ' and desire. But if her Majesty will needs be the ruler, ' or half ruler, of these weighty affairs herself, then my ' hope of any good success is clean overthrown.'1 Fearless in the rectitude of his purpose, the noble old man dared to lay the truth before Ehzabeth herself. He told her that his sworn duty as Privy Councillor 'obliged him to plainness.' The Duke of Alva was pre suming upon her unwiUingness to go to war to discredit her before the world, and the cause of Spain and the cause of the Queen of Scots would be linked together. ' You have good councillors,' he said, ' provident 'trusty, careful, no delighters in war, nor prodigal ' wasters of your treasure. Your Majesty need not ' trouble yourself with casting of doubts and discommo- ' dities or of dangerous inconveniences, whereby you ' may discourage them to stretch out the sinews of their ' wits to resolve most probably for your honour and ' safety. Rather contrarywise, your Majesty had need ' to encourage them with casting your care upon them, 'and taking their resolutions in good part, and to ' harden them in the prosecution thereof; lest otherwise ' they pluck in their horns and shrink in their sinews, ' and so lay the burden from themselves, either wholly ' or mangledly, on your Majesty's back. And hereupon ' must needs follow such wrestlings together of the ' affections, perturbations, and passions of your mind, 'that much time wiU be lost before your judgment can ' be settled to resolve. And yet time is precious. It is 1 Sir F. Knollys to Cecil, January 17. — MSS. Queen op Scots. The Reign of Elizabeth. 391 ' not possible for your Majesty's faithful councillors to Chap xvi 'govern your state unless you shall resolutely follow ^ ' their opinions in weighty affairs. Your Majesty shaU Jaimary ' never be well served unless you will back, comfort, and ' encourage them. I stand in very hard terms with 'your Majesty, for please your eye I cannot, since ' nature hath not given it to me, and to please your ear I ' would be fain ; but my calling, my oath, and my con- ' science do force me to rudeness. To be silent I dare ' not, lest the guUt of your perU should light upon my 'head.'1 History, ever prone to interpret unfavourably the ambiguous conduct of sovereigns, has accepted her enemies' explanation of Elizabeth's behaviour. She has been allowed credit for ability at the expense of principle and character. To her own ministers she appeared to be incapable, through infirmity of purpose, of forming any settled resolution whatever; to be distracted between conflicting poUcies and torn by feminine emotions, of which, if jealousy of the Queen of Scots was one, a weak and unreasoning tenderness was no less certainly another. She had foUowed CecU's counsel to the point where she made the Queen of Scots her mortal enemy. She had stopped short before the exposure which would have secured her from the effects of the Queen of Scots' hatred; and amidst the tricks, the subterfuges, the broken promises through which she had floundered from the hour of Mary Stuart's arrival in England, she wiU be misjudged if an element of generosity is not admitted among her motives. Her advisers saw only the danger to which she was exposing both herself and the state. She too was conscious of the danger. She did not shut 1 Sir F. Knollys to Elizabeth, January 17. — MSS. Queen op Scots, 392 History of England. Chap xvi her eyes to Mary 'Stuart's character, yet she could not 7^~ refuse her pity to a fallen Queen. With a letter which January ^ -wrote to her when aU was over, the story of the Conference may end. THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND TO THE QUEEN OP SCOTS. 'January 20. • ' It may be, Madam, that in receiving a letter from ' me, you may look to hear something which shall be ' for your honour. I would it were so — but I will not ' deceive you. Your cause is not so clear but that ' much remains to be explained. As I understand it, 'my heart which directs my hand forbids me to write, ' because the fruit of a sorrowing spirit is bitter, and I ' had rather something else than pen of mine should ' shed such drops upon you. Your commissioners will ' teU you what has passed. If they do not tell you also ' what sincere goodwill I have myself shown towards ' you, they deceive you and they do me too much * wrong. Only let me advise you this. Let not the 'fine promises, the pleasant voices, which will do you ' honour through the world, wrap you round in clouds ' and hide the daylight from your eyes. Those do not ' all love you who would persuade your servants that ' they love you. Be not over confident in what you do. ' Be not blind nor think me blind. If you, are wise, I ' have said enough.' x Of the murder of Darnley there was henceforth no more to be heard. That chapter of crime was closed; and to the reader who has followed the storv atten- tively, it might seem superfluous to add further com- 1 Abridged from the French original. — MSS. Queen op Scots, RoUs House. .¥ The Reign of Elizabeth. 393 ments upon its features. Mary Stuart's share in that Chap xvi business, however, being one of the vexed points of his- ,569 tory, and the political consequences of the accusations Januar.>' against her having been so considerable, a few conclud ing words will not be out of place. At the time of the catastrophe, the body of public opinion in England, the predominant weight of moderate statesmanship, was in favour of recognising the Queen of Scots as successor to Elizabeth's crown. Thenceforward the open advocacy of her claims, in Parliament or out of it, was no longer possible. She had still powerful friends, but they were divided among themselves, and encumbered with the consciousness of a cause which they dared not avow. Dropping their cha racter of English statesmen, they became conspirators, moving in the dark, and compromising themselves with treason and foreign intrigues, and thus gradually all that was honourable and noble fell away from their side. The mass of English country gentlemen, at the outset but cold friends of Protestantism, became con verts through their patriotism, and Mary Stuart was left to an ever-narrowing circle of Catholic fanatics, to whom the Pope was dearer than their country. That the primd facie case was strong against her, her warmest advocates will scarcely deny. She was known to have been weary of her husband and anxious to get rid of him. The difficulty and the means of disposing of him had been talked over in her presence, and she had herself suggested to Sir James Balfour to kill him. She brought him to the. house where he was destroyed. She was with him two hours before his death, and after wards threw every difficulty in the way of any exami nation into the circumstances of his end. The Earl of Bothwell was publicly accused of the murder ; she kept 394 History of England. Chap xvi him close at her side ; she would not allow him to be ,569 arrested ; she went openly to Seton with him before her January wi VIII. and Edward VI. had quarrelled with the Church of Rome. But in their time there was no pretender to the crown. The Queen of Scots stood now before the world if not as legitimate Sovereign of England, yet as in disputably the next in blood. She had been deposed from her own throne for reasons which; however well under stood in the beginning, yet had been rendered doubtful by the impotent results of the investigation, and she could represent herself as held a prisoner for no cause which her rival dared to avow. Her ' determined Papistry ' endeared her to the Catholics, and recommended her as an instrument to the foreign enemies of the Queen; while anxiety for an ascertained succession, the prospect of a union of the two crowns, and natural pity for her misfortunes, made friends for her among all parties in England. ' The fame of her murdering her husband would by time vanish away, or by defence would be so handled as it should be no great block in her way to achieve her purposes.' On the other side, Elizabeth was without child, without husband, without aUy, and almost without friends. Her subjects had, by long peace, been rendered unapt for war, and the disaffected among them ' had grown bold by her soft and remiss govern ment.' ' The service of God,' ' and the sincere pro fession of Christianity, were much decayed ; ' ' and in place of it, partly Papistry, partly Paganism, and irre- ligion had crept in ; ' ' baptists, deriders of religion, epicureans, and atheists were everywhere ; ' and ' such decay of obedience in civil policy, as compared with the fearfuiness and reverence in time past, would astonish any wise and considerate person.' ' The Realm was so The Reign of Elizabeth. 409 feeble, that it was fearful to think what would follow Chap if the enemies were at hand to assail.' ' The case seemed so desperate as almost to take away all courage j^' to seek a remedy.' x It is both instructive and singular to find CecU, the firmest and bravest advocate of the Reformation, lamenting the decay of reverence and the spiritual disorder which we now see to have been its inevitable fruits. There were some features of danger in this estimate which were overrated ; some sources of strength which were not appreciated. France and Spain were far from the triumph which Cecil believed them to have all but obtained. Triumph was not possible for them on the road which they had chosen. It might please Pius V. to give the blessing of the Church to Mary Stuart, and to make Ught of her crimes. As the Bishop of Ross justly argued, the orthodoxy of David had covered misdeeds of equal turpitude ; and David for twenty centuries had been held up before the rehgious world as the man after God's heart. Yet men who were most opposed to the spirit of the times, were changed by it in spite of themselves ; and not orthodoxy any more, but purity of hand and heart, was thenceforth to be the test of character. The English Catholics (the great bulk of them), forced as they were by circumstances to the side of Mary Stuart, yet never forgot Kirk o' Field, as Cecil thought they would forget it. When the moment came to strike, their arms were paralysed; and even PhiUp II. had many scruples to swallow before he could appear in pubhc as her champion against his sister-in-law. 1 Memorial on the State of the Kealm, March 10, 1569. — Bueshley Papers, vol. i. 410 History of England. Chap Possibly, too, Cecil mistook the character of the xvn anarchy which he deplored. He undervalued, espe- '569 cially, those fierce chUdren of the sea to whom,' in February J ' /• j i the end, Elizabeth was to owe her safety; and he misconstrued into lawlessness the free English energy which, in the exultation of new-found liberty, was bursting the bounds of control. Yet with these allowances there was enough in the prospect which he saw before him to justify the gravest alarm ; and Cecil who, unlike his mistress, was in favour of open measures, desired to meet the Catholic Powers by a combination like their own, and oppose to the Papal league the firm front of a Protestant confede racy. With the knife at all their throats it was no time to stand upon ' dainty ' questions of the rights of subjects and sovereign; of the efficacy of the sacra ments, or the operation of 'prevenient grace.' The remedy, so far as CecU could see a remedy, was in an al liance between England, Sweden, Denmark, the German Princes, the Scotch Protestants, and the Calvinists in France and Flanders. He wished Elizabeth to declare distinctly for Conde and the Prince of Orange, and to avow before Europe that England would not look calmly on a general persecution for religion. It would be found both easier and cheaper to support the Reformers abroad while they were still in arms, than to wait to en counter the enemy single-handed after they had been de stroyed. With equal frankness he desired her to maintain the Earl of Murray in Scotland; to give the Queen of Scots to understand that if she did not fulfil her engage ments at once and ratify the treaty of Leith, she should be sent back over the Border to be dealt with as the Regent's government should think proper; and to The Reign of Elizabeth. 411 silence with a high hand the domestic clamour for the Chap settlement of the succession.1 xvn The adoption of this policy, or of anything approach- p J569 ing to it, would necessarily terminate the compromise on which Elizabeth's government had hitherto been carried on, and force into coUision the opposite parties in the CouncU. Except in 1562-3, when the attempt was made to recover Calais, the Queen had avoided em barrassing combinations with the Protestants on the Continent; and the conservative peers and country gentlemen were able to persuade themselves that they had no connexion with them. The constitution of the Church of England, its apostolical government, and its formularies, which recognised a quasi real presence in the Eucharist, permitted them to believe that they were still members of the ancient corporation of Christendom ; whUe the Calvinists were the enemies of order, civil and divine, disobedient to rulers, deriders of authority, scorners of the Blessed Sacrament. The English Peers desired to see their sovereign taking her plape beside her brother princes, maintaining and maintained by the old alliances, disowning and refusing all interest in the revo lutionary rabble who had risen out of the dirt into rebeUion. At home, too, the progress of the Reformation was in many ways unpalatable to them. The Howards, the Talbots, the Fitzalans, the Stanleys, the Percys, the NeviUes, the princely houses, who in their several counties had represented for centuries the majesty of the sovereign — whose word was law, and from whom in a continuous chain the civil order of the state 1 Memorial of the State of the two monarchies. — Bt/kghley Papers, Realm, with remedies against the vol. i. pp. 579, 588. conspiration of the Pope and the 412 History of England. Chap descended, looked coldly on the new men who were xvn rising by trade, who owned the lands which had been '569 taken from the Church, who acknowledged no fealty to February • i i • • -1 i them or theirs. The sea rovers, with then* aiders and abettors, had no place in the stately system of Feudal England. The disintegration, which had alarmed even Cecil, shocked and outraged the old-fashioned nobility. Their place was gone from them. A new world was rising round them, and a new order of things, in which all objects held most sacred were being trampled in the mire. The reception of Chatillon and the seizure of the Spanish treasure appeared to indicate that Elizabeth was yielding to the faction with whom, as they con ceived, these mischiefs had originated. On the termination of the enquiry at Hampton Court their discontent took active shape. There was no longer a probability that Ehzabeth would be brought to recognise the Queen of Scots' succession ; yet, in de spair of finding a substitute for her, they satisfied themselves that her right must be maintained, and the question now was of the means by which it could be effected. Some of them — Lord Montague, Lord South ampton, and others — had been in correspondence with the Spanish Ambassador about it before the meeting at York ; and it was by them that her marriage with the Duke of Norfolk had been first originated. But it has been seen that the Dacres succession had created a party among the Catholics opposed to Norfolk. The Northern nobles, Lord Dacres himself, the Earl of Northum berland, the Earl of Cumberland, and Lord Derby's sons if not their father, the most decidedly ultramontane among the Peers, objected to the Duke's elevation both on grounds of interest and from a distrust The Reign of Elizabeth. 413 of his fitness to conduct a religious revolution. The Chap late Duchess had been a Catholic, and most of his household were Catholics, but he was himself nomi- *569 1 r ebruary nally a member of the Church of England. In their eyes, therefore, the proper husband for the Queen of Scots was Don John of Austria ; and as Elizabeth's consent to such an alliance was not to be looked for, this section of the Peers contemplated open rebellion, the Queen's deposition, the restoration of the Catholic rehgion, and the immediate elevation of Mary Stuart to the throne. Don Guerau had communicated their views to PhiUp, and with the exception of the marriage with Don John, of which he said nothing, he gave a reluctant and general sanction to their enterprise. Mary Stuart, believing Philip to be a fool as well as a fanatic, had injured her shaking, credit with him by professing to have discovered a plot for his murder. She had written to Don Guerau from Bolton announcing that the heretics considered the King of Spain the great est obstacle to the success of the Reformation, and that certain persons about his court had been bribed to poison him. Don Guerau sent down a servant to her to learn further particulars, but she could teU no more, except vaguely that Cecil was the instigator.1 Don Guerau sent her letters to Philip, indicating his own behef that the story had no better foundation than the talk in the servants' hall at Bolton'; and PhUip was rather irritated at the indefiniteness of the informa tion than alarmed at the danger. After brief reflec tion he satisfied himself that it was mere smoke2 and idle gossip, caught at by Mary Stuart in the hope of 1 Mary Stuart to Don Guerau, 2 'Cosa de humo.' Dec. 4, 1568. — MSS. Simancas. 414 History of England. Chap ingratiating herself with him.1 He admitted, however, xvn the expediency of making use of her. The arrest of the 1569 sbips and money and the imprisonment of the ambas- February r j l sador were outrages too flagrant to be passed over. If an opportunity really offered itself for overthrowing Elizabeth's government, he said that in the interest of religion he was willing to sanction her deposition, and he sent discretionary powers to the Duke of Alva to do whatever might seem expedient. The Queen of Scots he accepted as an unwelcome necessity. He bade Don Guerau tell her, that if she were true to her religion he would take up her cause, but his mind misgave him whUe he consented. ' It would be a bad business,' he admitted, 'to do anything inconsistent with the true Catholic faith. ' 2 / But the Northern Lords and their confederates formed but the extreme division of the great party of reaction. The majority of the Peers desired, indeed, to change the public policy of England, to remodel the Church so as to eject the Genevans, and to open the way for reunion with Rome, but they did not wish for a violent revolution. They were in favour of the Queen of Scots' succession, yet they wanted rather a change of adminis tration than a change of sovereign, and were willing to leave Elizabeth in possession for her hfe. They would not have disturbed her at all ; they would have left the succession to nature had she consented to the Austrian marriage ; it was only when this hope failed them, and the dangers' which threatened England within and with- 1 Philip II. to Don Guerau, Feb. contradiga a, nuestra verdadera y ult. — MSS. Simancas. Oatolica religion.' — Philip II. to 3 ' De cualquier manera que sea, es Don Guerau, Feb. 18. MSS, Sir mal caso mezclar cosa ninguna que mancas. The Reign of Elizabeth. 415 out became too manifest to be overlooked, that their Chap dissatisfaction changed its character and took the form of disloyalty. Arundel and Norfolk saw as clearly as Fe^f^r Cecil the critical situation of the country, and they wished to save it by returning to the old alliance with the house of Burgundy, by entailing the throne on Mary Stuart in despair of any other possible settlement, and, as a necessary consequence, by throwing a veU over her delinquencies. To these schemes Cecil was the great obstacle, and they resolved to lose no more time in removing so dangerous a counsellor from Elizabeth's cabinet. To them also the Spanish Ambassador was the natural ally. His house was guarded, and their access to his person was no longer possible ; but the arrests had thrown the trading interests of half Europe into confusion ; and merchants, money dealers, and those who seemed unconnected with politics, were admitted to see him at pleasure. Among them, as yet unsuspected, was Robert Ridolfi, a Florentine banker, who, unknown to every one, was the agent of the Pope in London. He had pushed himself into private communication with the leaders of all parties from Cecil to Leonard Dacres, and he now made himself the instrument through whom all who wished it cor responded with Don Guerau. The foreign relations of England were becoming every hour more threatening. As soon as the news of the seizure reached Spain EngUsh ships were arrested in the Peninsula as they had been in Flanders. Notwith standing the hesitation of La Mothe Fenelon Catherine de Medici followed the example, in retaliation for the countenance to ChatiUon and to Condi's privateers. The vessels trading at Havre and Bordeaux were forbidden to leave the harbours, and trade with France was closed 416 History of England. Chap except at the few ports which were held by the Hugue- a !! nots. On the side of England there was no flinching. FebruL Spain and France together could not send a fleet into the Channel able to encounter Portault, Champernowne, and Hawkins; and in the value of property already seized Elizabeth had enormously the advantage. The balance in her favour was increased daily by the prizes which were brought into her ports;1 and Alva, as his anger cooled, began to doubt the prudence of an imme diate rupture. Elizabeth affected the tone of an injured person who had had a quarrel thrust upon her. After a few weeks of chafing, the Duke sent over M. d'Assonle- ville, a member of the Council of the Netherlands, to try the effect of remonstrance. It is not pleasant to contemplate the number of lies told about this 'treasure.' In the face of the cor respondence of CecU with the Devonshire gentlemenj it can scarcely be pretended that Elizabeth at no time intended to appropriate the money. She may have changed her mind, compromised matters with Cecil by consenting to detain, while she intended eventually to restore it, and so have saved her conscience. So it was, however, that both Cecil and the Queen insisted that the chests had been landed at the request of the Spaniards themselves^ and that the thought of laying violent hands on them had never been entertained for a moment. They pretended that the passage of the Chan nel was extremely dangerous from the pirates ; the Queen 1 In addition to this advantage, land oweth in Antwerp ioo,oooi the outstanding debts of the English more than it hath, and I think great merchants were large, and, of course, riches is now in our ports.' — CecU to while the breach continued would Sir H. Sidney, Jan. 6, 1569. MSS. not be paid. 'It is thought they Ireland. will repent,' Cecil wrote, ' for Eng- The Reign of Elizabeth. 417 had accidentally discovered that the money was the Chap property of the Italian merchants, and she had doubted . , whether it would be well to expose so large a sum to j-^' further risk, and whether she might not borrow it her self. This was all that she had thought of and was most innocent — but whilst she was hesitating the Duke of Alva, without provocation, right,, or justice, had seized upon the ships of her subjects. If this was her position Alva had only to accept it, prove the right of the King of Spain in the treasure, and take the risk of the transport upon himself. He wanted money badly, and if he succeeded in recovering it he could exhibit Elizabeth before the world as having attempted an act of piracy, and as having failed, for want of courage to maintain what she had done. D'AssonlevUle came over hoping so to settle it ; but he found that behind Elizabeth's words there lay a purposeT either in herself or in her advisers, which was not to be so easily dealt with. He could not obtain an audience of the Queen ; he was not allowed to see Don Guerau, and he was detained in London from day to day, by excuses and evasive messages, till one part of the CouncU or the other had prevailed, and till the Queen could determine whether to relinquish her prize or hold it. Some attention will be required to under stand the intrigues on which the reader is about to enter. He will first consider carefully the two following letters of the Spanish Ambassador. DON GUERAU DE ESPES. TO THE DUKE OF ALVA. Feb. 20, London. ' Cecil is stUl dominant, and would declare open war ' against us, but for the remonstrances of others of the ' CouncU. The Duke of Norfolk and Lord Arundel, ELIZ. III. E E 418 History of England. Chap XVII 1569 February with the assistance of our common friend Ridolfi, have contrived a means of communicating with me in cipher. They give me to understand that I may make myself easy about the money and the ships, which they assure me shall be immediately restored. If they have con sented hitherto to their detention, and to Cecil's other insolences, it is because they have so far been too weak to oppose him successfully : but meanwhile they have collected their friends ; they have taken measures to undeceive the people as to the real character of the seizure, and they, mean to make an end of the present infamous Government, to place the administration in the hands of Cathohcs, and compel the Queen to go along with them.1 Your Excellency they trust wiU approve, and they hope this realm will not lose the friendship of the King our master. They say that they will re-establish the Catholic religion — there never was a more favourable opportunity — and Cecil, who ima gines that he has them aU under his feet, wiU find himself left without a friend. ' Cecil himself meanwhile is commencing a furious persecution. The prisons are overflowing, and in Bridewell there are a hundred and fifty Spaniards, who are forced to listen to heretic sermons, and are tempted by offers of rewards to become heretics them selves. They have removed the sentries under, my windows ; but rather because of the frost than for any better reason. My garden gates are nailed up, and the knight who is on guard over me is established with his family in my porter's lodge. Cecil, Bedford, 1 The words are so important that they must be given in the original : ' Entretanto se han proveydo de amigos y han dado a entender lo que passa al pueblo, y piensan quitar este gobierno que ahora hay, tan maldito, y levantar otro Catolico, y hacer consentir en el a la Keyna.' The Reign of Elizabeth. 419 ' and the Lord Admiral1 advocate war ; the admiral, Chap ' because of the opportunities which it will open to him Xvn ' for plunder. The rest of the Council are for peace.2 Fe^r ' The Lords who are my friends tell me not to be dis- ' tressed at my detention. Nothing is meant beyond pre- ' venting me from communicating with the Catholics.' So far to Alva. A week later Don Guerau wrote to Philip : — ' D'AssonlevUle has had no audience, and while Cecil ' remains in power nothing wiU be done. He and his ' friends desire only to feed the fire in France and the ' Low Countries, believing that, if they can keep that ' flame unextinguished, they will be left alone in their ' heresies. They refuse to part with the money, unless 4 your Majesty wUl send hither a special messenger to ' renew the old league, unless you wUl make compen- ' sation for outstanding injuries, and will apologise for ' the dismissal of Doctor Man. It wiU not be to your ' Majesty's honour to consent to these terms so long as ' the present Ministers are in power. There are many ' ways by which they can be shaken from their places. ' The Duke of Norfolk and Lord Arundel teU me that ' they will be the instruments of an alteration. The ' CathoUcs are arming under cover of an order from the ' Queen for the equipment of the musters ; and they, 1 Clinton. Cecil, Principal Secretary of State ; 2 The ordinary Council, at this Lord Howard of Effingham, Lord time, consisted of Sir Nicholas Bacon, Chamberlain; Earl of Pembroke. Keeper of the Great Seal ; the Mar- Lord Steward ; Sir James Crofts, quis of Winchester, Lord Treasurer ; Controller of the Household ; Earl Sir Walter Mildmay, Chancellor of of Leicester, Master of the Horse : the Exchequer; the Earl of Arundel, Sir Francis Knollys, Treasurer of the Lord High Constable ; Duke of Nor- Household; Earl of Bedford, Gov- folk, Earl Marshal; Lord Clinton, ernor of Berwick; Earl of Sussex, Lord High Admiral; Sir William President of the North. E E 2 420 History of England. Chap ' with their friends among the Peers, represent the vast XYTI ' majority of the nation. The interruption of the trade 1569 ' WU1 suffice of itself to cause a revolution. Care only February _ J ' is necessary that no untoward accident occurs mean- ' whUe in Flanders ; and against this the wisdom and ' valour of the Duke wiU provide. ' I have learnt from the Duke of Norfolk what they ' mean to say to d'AssonleviUe. He tells me that L ' must not be displeased that he has consented to it ; ' because he thus secures his uninterrupted access to the ' Queen, and learns the secrets of the other party. They ' are extremely jealous and suspicious. My guard have * been partially removed ; but my house is watched by ' spies, and there are sentinels at night at the doors. It ' is essential that their trade with France be kept closed. ' Without oil and alum they cannot continue their cloth ' manufacture, and when work is slack, and commerce ' suspended, then they wUl fly to arms.' x These letters explain themselves without further com ment. There were two projects on foot, to each of which the Spanish Ambassador was a party ; one was among the Northern lords, opposed to Norfolk, for a Catholic insurrection, the overthrow of Elizabeth, and a marriage, if Philip's sanction could be obtained for it, between the Queen of Scots and Don John : a second party, headed by Norfolk himself, desired a change of government, and the arrest, and probably the death, of Cecil. The Earl of Leicester, who bore Cecil no goodwill, and who feared the consequences to himself of a return to power of the old nobility, if he had not 1 Don Guerau to the Duke of Alva, Feb. 20. Don Guerau to Philip U., Feb. 2y. — MSS. Simancas. The Reign of Elizabeth. 421 gained their goodwill beforehand, was prepared to act with them if they appeared likely to succeed.1 It was a conspiracy Uke that which had overthrown Cromwell — so nearly identical, that Cecil himself could scarcely have been unconscious of the resem blance. He had inherited Cromwell's policy, in all points except its violence. His hands were as yet pure from blood, and he had not sought those invidious personal honours which had set the blood of the old peers on fire. In all else he had trodden in the same steps, and had brought upon himself the same hatred. Chap XVII 1569 February 1 A scene is described as having taken place at the palace, which is obviously exaggerated or distorted; but being related in almost the same language both by Don Guerau and by La Mothe Fenelon, is probably not wholly without foundation. Don Guerau says that on Sunday morn ing, in the middle of February, Norfolk, Leicester, Northampton, Mildmay, and Cecil were with the Queen. She was talking at one end of the room with Leicester and Cecil, and was persuading the former to agree to something which Cecil had proposed. Leicester, who was vio lently angry, told her that her throne would never be safe, till Cecil's head was off his shoulders. The Queen swore she would send Leicester to the Tower, and spoke so loud that everyone present heard her. Nor folk observed aside to the rest that My Lord of Leicester was in high favour so long as he echoed Mr. Secretary, but now, when he had an opinion of his own, he was to go to the Tower. ' By God,' he said, ' it shall not be ; some remedy shall be for this.' ' Pray God it may be so,' Northampton answered. 'I ever wished it.' Mildmay also said that some change was necessary; and the Duke, going up to the Queen, told her that he hoped when her anger was cooled, and she could re flect quietly on the condition of the Realm, she would feel the need of making better provision for her own and her subjects' safety. He and his friends, as her faithful servants and councillors, would consider what ought to be done. The Queen left them in confusion — showing signs of great distress. La Mothe Fenelon tells the same story, but says it hap pened on Ash Wednesday, in the evening before supper. ' The Lords,' he adds, ' intended to call Cecil to account for his whole administration from the beginning of the reign. Cecil had endeavoured to frighten Leicester by saying that he was as responsible as himself. Leicester answered that Cecil alone was to blame, and he should provide for his own safety.' — Don Guerau to PhUip II, Feb. 22, MSS. Simancas. La Mothe Fenelon au Roy, March 8. MSmoire a part au Sieur de Sabran. Dipeches, vol. i. 422 History of England. Q%%L But besides these two schemes, there was a third, in which the chameleon Norfolk was wearing far different February colours. Like a prudent gambler, he did not risk his fortune on the success of a single speculation. It is necessary to go a little back. It will be remembered that the conference at York was broken up, on the report reaching the Queen that a marriage was talked of between Norfolk and the Queen of Scots. The Duke returned to London, staggered by the sight of the letters to Bothwell, and disincUned for the adventure. He complained to Elizabeth — perhaps in good faith — of the stories which were abroad about him ; ' he reported matters of the Queen of Scots to think her not meet to be had by him in marriage,' and protested that he had no intentions of the kind. Elizabeth, not altogether satisfied, and knowing the inducements which had been and would again be held out to him, said, 'that although he did now mislike of it, yet he might percase be induced to like of it, for the benefit of the Realm, or percase for her own safety.' Norfolk answered boldly, ' that no reason could move him to like her that had been a competitor for the Crown. If her Majesty herself would move him to it, he would rather be committed to the Tower, for he never meant to marry with such a person where he could not be sure of his piUow.' x The Queen ' did well allow his vehement disliking of that marriage.' The Duke asserted afterwards that at the time he meant what he said;2 and no thing could be gathered from the part which he took 1 Summary of matters wherewith * Trial of the Duke of Norfolk. — theDuke of Norfolk has beencharged. State Trials, vol. i. , — Bueghley Papers, vol. i. The Reign of Elizabeth. 423 at the second conference which would imply that he Chap • XVII had allowed his mind to return to the subject. Yet it seems either that his chief objection was the in- p^-^jL famy which would attach to the Queen of Scots by the exposure which he then believed inevitable ; or that he had permitted himself to be talked over by Maitland. Of all those who had been parties to the proceedings at Hampton Court, the Earl of Murray had most reason to complain. He had been induced against his will to accuse his mistress, yet she had not been condemned. He believed — and his fears were confirmed by a thousand private assurances — that she would ultimately be re stored, and he and his friends, after the part which they had taken, would then be irretrievably ruined. He was told that by producing the letters he had mortally offended the Duke, of Norfolk, and that, if he left London, the Duke standing discontented, ' he would have his throat cut before he reached Berwick.' ' Being,' as he said, ' at the uttermost point of his wit to imagine where matters would tend,' he consented to a private interview with Norfolk, and met him in the park at Hampton Court. The Duke reminded him of their conversation at York, and first reproached him for want of considera tion for his sister. He replied, ' that so far from not loving his sister, she was the creature upon earth he loved the best. He never wished her harm ; her own pressing was the occasion of that which was uttered to her infamy.' The Duke then spoke of Mary Stuart's general posi tion, of the succession to the Crown, and the necessity of settling it, of the impossibUity of finding any other person in whose favour it would be determined ; he alluded to the union of the realms ; to the quiet of Scotland — to 424 History of England. Chap aU those subjects which had been dwelt upon again and J^ again, and were familiar to both of them: the road February to tneir attainment lay through the Queen of Scots' marriage with some English nobleman who would be agreeable to all parties ; and the Duke implied, that if he himself were again to think of it, the Queen of England would make no objection. He did not directly mention himself, but he left Murray to under stand what he meant. He did not say that Elizabeth would consent ; yet his words, and ' the circumstances of the case, gave Murray matter enough to think that she had been foreseen in the Duke's design.'1 So far as the world knew, the Duke was a Protestant. To Murray it could easily be represented that a marriage between him and the Queen of Scots, if sanctioned by Elizabeth, would, under the present circumstances, be the best guarantee for the stabUity of the Reformed faith. He had heard something of the scheme for her marriage with Don John, and since compromise seemed now inevitable, this perhaps was the best form in which it could take effect. He told the Duke that, ' as soon as his sister would repent of her doings, separate her self from Bothwell, and be joined with such a personage as was affectioned to the true religion, whom Scotland might trust, he would love her as well as ever he did in his life ; if that person should be the Duke of Norfolk, there was none he would like better, provided the Queen consented.' So they parted. The Duke warned him to tell no one but Maitland what had passed; and he promised to com municate with him again when circumstances permitted. Meanwhile he sent orders to the Nortons to ' stay the 1 Murray to Elizabeth, October 29, Trial of the Duke of Norfolk, State 1569. — MSS. Scotland. Compare Trials, vol. i. The Reign of Elizabeth. 425 enterprise ' at Northallerton, and to leave the Earl un- Chap molested on his way back to Scotland.1 XUI After this interview, Norfolk, on the plea of sickness, Fe^ry was for some weeks absent from the Court, correspond ing, through Ridolfi, with Don Guerau, and feeling his way among the other parties into which the Council and the Peers were divided. The opinion which had been expressed so boldly by Sir Francis Knollys, that the Queen was incapable of carrying through any bold or consistent course was shared by everyone. All expected that CecU's defiance of Spain would end in ruin, if the Queen of Scots was to continue in England, as a perpetual instigator to conspiracies ; and as there were two parties among the Catholics, so among the more moderate Protestants there were men whose loyalty to Elizabeth was undoubted, while they were assured that things could not safely continue as they were. If Mary Stuart were not to be disgraced, it was really necessary to marry her to some Englishman of rank whose patriotism could be relied upon ; and they, too, for the same reasons which had been laid before Murray, agreed on Norfolk as the fittest person. Leicester, finding, perhaps, that the Catholics looked coldly on him, withT the Earl of Pembroke and Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, were the leaders of this new faction. They took the Bishop of Ross into their confidence, and the Bishop, after consulting Norfolk, agreed to assist. To Don Guerau Norfolk had represented himself as only anxious for the restoration of Catholicism. The conditions of the new alliance were an easier version of the terms first proposed at York, as the basis of the in tended compromise ; and it is probable that Norfolk had 1 Confession of the Bishop of Ross, Nov. 6, 1571. — Mtjkdin. 426 History of England. Chap been made aware of them before he spoke to Murray. XVI1 All outstanding quarrels in Scotland were to be consi- February dered at an en(l; tne abdication at Lochleven was to be cancelled ; the murder forgotten, and religious rights respected on all sides. The Queen of Scots was to abandon her foreign intrigues and alliances, ratify the treaty of Leith, and become a member of the Church of England, where she was to continue to reside. The guarantee for her good behaviour would be her mar riage with Norfolk, and her own ambition and the vanity of Scotland was then to be gratified by the en tailment upon her of the English crown. This arrange ment, it was supposed, would satisfy the moderate of all parties in both countries, and would take from France and Spain their best pretext for invading England, and their best chance of success if they, made the attempt. Elizabeth was not to be consulted till the Queen of Scots' consent had been obtained, and tiU every security had been provided for herself which she could possibly desire — perhaps tiU she could be tempted with a hope of receiving at last, as part of the same arrange ment, the hand of her adored Leicester. He, at all events, was the most active in the negotiation. The Bishop of Ross suggested that Leicester should himself marry the Queen of Scots, but the Earl 'for many reasons considered himself unmeet for that honour.' He said, ' he did not suppose the Duke would think of it, except it was for the benefit of the Queen and the realm ; ' but ' he con sidered there was no better remedy for so dangerous a woman, and it would be well to make a virtue of necessity, if the Queen's Majesty would allow it.' Pem broke used the same language. The Queen, he thought, would find herself unable to keep the Queen of Scots prisoner ; ' and, seeing the estate of things so greatly The Reign of Elizabeth. 42 7 changed in France and Spain, and the Earl of Murray Chap standing in so tickle terms in Scotland,' he was 'of opinion,' and Sir Nicholas agreed with him, ' that for pe^u' these causes and others, with provision made, her High ness and the Realm would take commodity ' by her mar riage with the Duke, if the Duke himself would agree to it. The Bishop of Ross undertook that his mistress would do anything which the Queen of England and the no bility desired. The Duke, ' with all manner of earnest ness,' as if he had waited for this assurance, professed himself willing. ' Although,' he said, ' he would prefer to remain unmarried, yet, if the Queen of Scots would accept him, he would be content to sacrifice himself for ' the welfare of his country.' x Richard Cavendish, a son of Lady Shrewsbury by a previous marriage, went down to the Queen of Scots on behalf of Leicester, with presents and compliments.2 The Queen of Scots confirmed the Bishop's engage ments for her; and it was agreed that, when the arrange ments were sufficiently advanced, Maitland should come up from Scotland, and, in the Regent's name, make a formal proposal for the marriage. AU this the Duke of Norfolk concealed carefully from Don Guerau. To the Ambassador he represented him self as seeking for nothing but a return to communion with Rome. He was playing with all sides for all events ; in case Ehzabeth fell, or was compelled to sacrifice her 1 Examination of the Earl of Pern- 2 Among the presents — ' as she broke, Sept. 29, 1569. Examina- seemed to be afraid of poison' — tion of Sir Nicholas Throgmorton, Leicester sent her ' three special Oct. 10, 1569. — Bttbghley Papers, preservatives;' 'a stone in a gold vol. i. Confession of the Duke of box,' ' a silver box with Mithridate.' Norfolk, Nov. 10, 1571. — MSS. 'andahornof somebeast.' — Norfolk's Mary Queen as Scots, Rolls House. Confession, Biid. , 428 History of England. Chap XVII 1569 February ministers, he wished to be able to plead his services with Philip, and obtain the hand of the Queen of Scots in that way, in spite of the desire of the Northern nobles to see her married to Don John.1 He was deceiving Don Guerau, and he was deceiving also Leicester and Pembroke ; while the Queen of Scots and the Bishop of Ross were in return playing upon him. While the Duke was persuading himself that in one way or the other he was making sure of her; while to him she pretended that she had no other desire ; the Bishop of Ross was telling Don Guerau, that at the bottom of her heart she intended, if she could, to take a Spanish husband ; 2 and the Queen of Scots herself found means to inform Don Guerau, that although her po sition obliged her to temporise and seem to acquiesce in the proposals which were made to her, yet in rehgion and in everything else she was in reality at Philip's disposition; Philip's pleasure should be hers; and, were she at liberty, she would not marry the Duke of Norfolk, but would place herself and her son under Philip's protection.3 1 'Podria ser que el Duque de Nor folk tuviese intention despues de haberhecho servicio a suMagd. de ver si seria contento de favorescerle en el casamiento con la Beyna de Escocia.' — Don Guerau to Alva, March 15. MSS. Simancas. In the decipher the last words are, ' con la Keyna de In- glaterra ;' but the Queen of Scots was the person evidently meant. There was never any hint of a marriage between Norfolk and Elizabeth. It was perhaps a mistake of the secre tary. a ' Diome parte de lo que V1 E" trato con estos caballeros cerca del casamiento de su ama, diciendo que en Espafia habia cosa que le con- vinese mucho. Preguntome si tenia yo alunga commission acerca desto.' — Don Guerau to Alva. MSS. Simancas. 3 ' La dicha Beyna dice que si ella estuviese en libertad 6 se le diera tal socorro que confiara reducir con el su Reyno a, su obediencia, que a su persona y a, la de su hijo entregara en poder de V. Magd., pero que ahora sera forcada seguir y tomar el tiempo como viene y toda via no se apartara jamas de la voluntad de V. Magd. assi en lo de la religion como en cualquiera otra cosa.' — Don Guerau to PhUip, 1569. MSS. Simancas. The Reign of Elizabeth. 429 Meanwhile, although near the surface the wind was Chap moving in these uncertain eddies, the upper current of events and actions was rolling stormily onwards. The p^' injury to EngUsh trade was less absolute than Don Guerau expected. An eventual rupture with Spain had been foreseen and prepared for. Sir Henry Killegrew during the past year had been negotiating fresh open ings in the ports of the Baltic, and Hamburgh was wiUing to take the place of Antwerp as the mart from which English goods could be carried into Germany. The merchant adventurers had pushed their way to Moscow and even to Persia. The western mariners, who preferred Turk to CathoUc, and on the whole re garded him as a better Christian, were trading 'up the Straits' with Constantinople and Alexandria. Ro- chelle could supply the best wines and fruits of France ; RocheUe privateers intercepted the vessels which sailed from the Catholic harbours, and their cargoes lay ready pUed for export in the Huguenot storehouses. The passing loss would be converted to gain by English energy and spirit, and on these Cecil, for his part, was willing to rely. D'AssonlevUle received the answer at last which Don Guerau expected. He was told that the Queen declined to negotiate with Alva. The King of Spain must send a commission directly from him self, if the relations between him and England were to be re-estabhshed. To give emphasis to his dis missal, the ships which escorted him back to Dunkirk, under his very eyes, with ingenious insolence, cut out from Calais roads a dozen rich Spanish merchantmen, and swept them back into the Thames. In the Channel and out of it, in harbour and in the open sea — where- ever a vessel could be found with a Catholic owner, it was -plundered by the English rovers. Some lay in 430 History of England. Chap wait for such ships and gallies as contained Flemish xvn prisoners, whom they would set at liberty.1 Others Mar9h plunge(l mto the Spanish ports themselves, to rescue the English vessels, crews, and cargoes which were de tained there, and helping themselves to any valuables which they might encounter in the process on sea or shore.2 The prisoners whom they took on these expe ditions they brought home as hostages for their country men, caged them in the harbour gaols, and tortured them with daily homUies from Protestant ministers.3 To the yet deeper distress of Philip, the house of one of the largest Spanish merchants in London was searched by Elizabeth's police ; the furniture of his chapel, the crucifixes, the images of the saints were carried away, borne in mock procession through the streets, and burnt in Cheapside, amidst the jests of the populace, who cried, as they saw them blazing, ' These are the Gods of Spain ! — to the flames with them, and to the flames with their worshippers ! ' 4 At all this work CecU looked on complacently,5 and 1 ' Otro siete navios Ingleses pelea- viente pafios y cuarenta mill escudos ron con dos navios Espanoles de en plata.'— Don Guerau al Duque de passage cargados de fardeles de Alva, Marti 20. MSS. Simancas. 'Flandes, y el uno navio escapo des- 3 Don Guerau al Bey. Feb. 27. — tos con muerto el majestro de ella, MSS. Ibid. j capitan y otros quatro companeros, i Don Guerau to Alva, April 30. y el otro navio quedo peleando con The letter mentions many other ellos de que no se sabe lo que se ha outrages, but against this last espe- hecho, el cual navio traya 32 for- cially, Philip scored in the margin cados de Flandes.' — Memorial pre- his agitated marks of distress. sented by Don Guerau to the Eng- 5 Half deprecatingly — as perhaps lish Council. Spanish MSS., Rolls being not quite certain of his cor- House. respondent-^he wrote in the midst s ' Una nave Inglesa ha venido de of it to Sir Henry Sidney :— ' The Vigo que enviaron de aqui armada arrest between us and Flanders con- para sacar los Ingleses y ropa que tinueth still in one state, saving alii tenian, y se dio buena mafia; y that daily, ships of King Philip's, sacd doce mercadores y ciento y with merchandise, come in so plenti- The Reign of Elizabeth. 431 with France he followed, though less openly, the same Chap audacious policy. The fleet which La Mothe had dis- covered to be in preparation saUed under Sir William ^^ Winter for Rochelle, and carried suppUes to Conde\ Guns and powder were landed there, and as much money as Elizabeth could spare. La Mothe waited on her to remonstrate; and of course she protested her innocence. She spoke with the strongest seeming dis approval of Conde, and professed to be delighted at the successes of the Crown. But La Mothe had the most exact information. She had consented reluctantly ; but she had consented nevertheless. The open saUing orders to Winter had contained no mention of the Prince, nor any indication that he was to receive assistance; but further instructions had been added in a private note, which Cecil had drawn and the Queen had signed.1 Without exposing her evasion, the Ambassador insisted on what was too patent to deny. A whole fleet of EngUsh rovers were saUing under Conde's flag, and selling their prizes, as they took them, in Plymouth and Dover. If she was herself innocent in these matters, she was responsible, as a sovereign, for the acts of her own officers and subjects; and, on the 8th of March, under orders from Paris, he offered her peace or war. If she chose war, it should be war open and avowed ; if peace, the privateers must be called in, and the English harbours closed against the Hu guenots. He aUowed her fifteen days to consider her answer.2 fully as in policy it may tempt some- most' — CecU to Sidney, Feb. 28. what otherwise to be done than was MSS. Ireland. meant at the beginning. 1, myself, 1 La Mothe Fenelon au Boy, like peace best, for though in wars I Jan. 10, and Jan. 24. — Dipeches, hazard not myself, yet my labour vol. i. and pain be as great as whoso taketh *¦ Ibid., March 8. 432 History of England. Chap Threats of this kind Cecil believed that she could safely defy. War with France would not be unpopular March in England, where the Calais wound was still rankling. Scotland and the prisoner at Bolton were more inve terate difficulties. On this subject, too, at the close of the conference, La. Mothe had ventured a remon strance ; but here Elizabeth was on firmer ground, and could speak with conscious integrity. ' She had no cause,' she said proudly, ' to change her pale colour for any charge which could be brought against her for her treatment of her sister. Rather, if she was pressed, she would show matter for her justification which would crimson the cheek of the Queen of Scots.' 1 The Duke of Chatelherault had come to London to watch the process. At the end of it she dismissed him with an intimation that she intended to support Murray,, and she lent Murray himself three thousand pounds at his departure for Scotland, to assist him in raUying his friends. She gave him to understand, however (and it was this which betrayed him into his correspondence with Norfolk), that she could not undertake the per^ petual custody of the Queen of Scots. For the example's sake, she could not recognise the right of subjects to rebel ; and, whatever her faults had been, some arrange ment would certainly have to be made for his sister's return. The casket letters must not be published. He must consult with his party, and send her up the con ditions under which the restoration could be ventured.2 Meanwhile, the inflammatory letters which Mary Stuart had written to the Hamiltons, and a general knowledge of her English intrigues, impressed on 1 La Mothe Fenelon au Boy, Feb. to be done in Scotland, Jan. 1569 — lo.—Depeches, vol. i. Cotton MSS., Calig. B. 8. 2 Instructions of such things as are The Reign of Elizabeth. 433 Ehzabeth the necessity of removing her to some straiter Chap ' WII custody. Lady Scrope, as Norfolk's sister, was a dange- rous hostess. KnoUys was anxious to be relieved of H^ his charge, and Mary Stuart was transferred to Tutbury, where she was to be for the future under the care of the Earl of Shrewsbury. The temper of the EngUsh nobles obUged the Queen to be more than usually cir cumspect in the choice of the person who was to under take the ungracious office. The Earl of Shrewsbury was selected because he was half a Catholic, because he belonged to the party who had been much in favour of the Queen of Scots' succession, and because, there fore, her friends could feel that in his hands she was in no danger of foul play. Ehzabeth, perhaps, in tended to secure his loyalty by placing confidence in him. He was charged to prevent the Queen of Scots' escape, but ' to treat her with the honour and reverence due to a princess of the blood royal.' He was not, however, to carry his regard too far. ' Besides the vehement presumption against her for the horrible murdering of her husband,' he was made acquainted ' with other particularities,' to enable him to reply to her complaints. He was desired to teU her that, if she was overloud in her outcries, ' it might be an occasion that her whole cause and doings should be pubhshed to the world, and thereof would foUow many things to her prejudice, which she and her friends would regret.' x Elizabeth at the same time wrote a few lines to her, to reconcUe her to her condition, and to assure her that, notwithstanding her removal from Bolton, ' if no impedi ment was ministered by herself, she would take care 1 Commission to the Earl of Shrewsbury. — MSS. Qtjeen op Scots, Rolls House. ELIZ. III. F F 434 History of England. Chap of her cause;' 'her disposition was still, as far as honour might bear, to do all that was possible for her Marl restoration.'1 At Tutbury Castle for the last winter months the Queen of Scots remained. The Bishop of Ross and Lord Boyd were settled three miles off at Burton, to carry on her correspondence and to keep up her diffe rent intrigues, whUe Herries returned to Scotland, where Murray was trying to compose the distracted elements into which he had been flung. Mary Stuart did not make his work more easy for him: besides her first fierce letter, she had written on the 30th of January to the Archbishop of St. Andrews, teUing him to watch Murray closely, to fear nothing and listen to no per suasion, and if Murray struck, to strike in return.2 The spirit, however, on both sides proved conciliatory. Cha telherault had been frightened by Elizabeth's words to him, and Herries was in Norfolk's secret, and was wUl ing to acquiesce in the arrangements which the Duke had talked over with the Regent. On the 13th of March a partial convention met at Glasgow, where the outlines of a general settlement were proposed and agreed to. The Hamiltons undertook to submit to the Regency, if their forfeitures were cancelled, if they were allowed a place in the Council, and if the other side would con sider of measures for the return of the Queen. The meeting passed off quietly, and it was arranged that the Lords should reassemble in six weeks at Edinburgh. Argyle and Huntly would then be present, and the con ditions could be finally determined on which Scotland was for the future to be governed. 1 Elizabeth to the Queen of Scots, 2 Mary Stuart to the Archbishop Feb. 3. — MSS. Queen of Scots, of St. Andrews, Jan. 30. — Labanoef, Rolls House. vol. ii. The Reign of Elizabeth. 435 So far things promised Avell, but a war with France Chap would throw all again into confusion. It was now to be seen whether France and Spain, in resentment at their jj^h common injuries, could agree at last to attack England together; whether, if they could not move in concert, either one or the other would look on ; or whether the jealousies which had held them so long apart could resist these new provocations, and continue as before to pro tect Elizabeth from attack. The persistence of the poli tical traditions of the great war, long after the conditions out of which they had risen had past away, is one of the most remarkable features in the history of the six teenth century. Having given in its ultimatum through La Mothe, the French Government durst not move ac tively tiU it had consulted and received the sanction of Philip. The Cardinal of Guise went to Madrid to learn his pleasure, and Philip at once recommended France to settle its difficulties at home before quarrelhng with its neighbours.1 PhUip, expecting daily a change of government in England which would bring back into power the friends of Spain, had no desire to sacrifice his own game. The conquest of Scotland and the invasion of England by the French friends of Mary Stuart were more terrible to him than heresy there, or than the destruction of his commerce by the privateers ; a too triumphant France might stretch its hand to his 1 ' Parece que en ninguna manera ninguna via tomar otras empresas le conviene romper con los de fuera, fuera de su casa, ni mover los hu- sino de attender al assiento de sus mores y zelos que de la liga que se cosas propias, y acabar de castigar y apunta podrian nacer.' — Respuesta de deshacer sus rebeldes, llevando ade- su Magestad al Cardenal de Guisa lante la victoria que Dios contra ellos sohre las cosas de Inglaterra, ultimo le ha dado ; pues esta claro que mien- de Abril 1569. MSS. Simancas. tras estos duraren no le cumple por F F 2 436 History ¦ of England. chap own distracted Netherlands, or by holding both sides of the narrow seas cut him off from access to them. March Catherine de Medici might not have sat down patiently under the prohibition, though if she had flown in the face of it, Philip probably would have followed it up by war; but in England itself there was no internal party on which she could calculate to assist an invasion. The Catholics and the friends of Spain were those who repre sented the traditions of the Plantagenets ; and Norfolk, while insisting to Elizabeth on the necessity of coming to terms with Philip, again professed his willingness to consent to the war with France.1 Amidst these uncertainties Cecil had to feel his danger ous way. Whether aware or ignorant of the conspiracy against him, he must have known that he was playing for his own life as weU as for all for which he valued life. Elizabeth still allowed herself to be guided by him, and he in turn was guided chiefly by his horror of the tyranny of Alva. ' The Queen,' wrote Don Guerau on the 28 th of February, ' although an able woman, is in matters of importance confused and vacUlating ; she has a natural inclination for heresy, and CecU being its greatest champion, she dare not vary as yet in any point from his advice ;' 2 ' Cecil's single principle is detestation of the Catholic faith, and as he has never been on the Continent, he thinks that England is aU the world.'3 1 ' El Duque de Norfolk ha co- MSS. Simancas. menzado de hablar a la Beyna des- 2 ' Y como es naturalmente afl- pues de la presa de estas Ureas, di- cionada a, esta heregia, y Sicel es tan ciendole que se cargaba la guerra de gran ministro della, no osa aun un Principe tan grande como el Bey apartarse un solo punto del parecer Catolico, y juntamente instaba el de Sicel.' — Don Guerau to Cayas, rompimiento contra el Bey de Fran- Feb. 28. MSS. Simancas. cia.' — Don Guerau to Alva, April 10. 3 This is a mistake — Cecil accom- The Reign of Elizabeth. 437 If England was to go to war, Cecil still preferred Chap Spain as an enemy to France. He was determined that 1 — _ there should be no reconciliation, except on terms ^rah which would make the Catholics despair ever more of PhUip's assistance. He had brought his mistress to the edge of absolute rupture, but there she paused; 'the word war was dreadful to her.' x It meant expenses, it meant loans from the Jews, it meant taxation and its consequent unpopularity. She could not bear to hear of it, and here therefore, on her weak side, Cecil's enemies had the advantage. If she desired peace it was obvious to tell her that she must take measures to preserve peace ; and many a storm had CecU to encounter, as she wavered between her opposite advisers. In extremities Ehzabeth did not stay to pick her words. ' She cursed those who had tempted her to take the Spanish treasure: she wished the Devil had flown away with them.' 2 But the happy inconsistencies of her character kept her conduct firm whUe her speech varied. She could not bring herself to unclasp her hold on the money. She felt that come what would, she could not afford to yield to fear, and she was proud of the wild achievements of her sailors. ( When Don Guerau complained of the plunder in the Channel, Cecil gave the proud answer, that the Queen panied Lord Paget to the Low — Depeches, April 20. Countries in 1554 to bring back 2 'LaBeyna maldice a, todos los Cardinal Pole. que le hablaron en el arresto del 1 ' No quiere oyr hablar de guerra ' dinero, diciendo que queria que was the report of a palace spy to antes los hubiera llevado el Diablo, Don Guerau. ' According to La porque vee bien que estas cosas la Mothe her constant words in the podrian hacer caer en una guerra.'— Council were : — 'Jene veulx point la Descifrada del Italiano, March 15. guerre, je ne veulx point la guerre.' MSS. Simancas. 438 History of England. Chap 0f England was sovereign of the narrow seas, and he would make her rule acknowledged there. Don Ipni Guerau said, that ' the sea was too fickle an element for a lady's sceptre ; ' but Elizabeth, however she might complain, was substantially of Cecil's opinion, and re fused to interfere with him.1 At this crisis arrived the untimely news of the battle of Jarnac.2 The winter had" been passed in a series of desultory skirmishes, which on the whole had been favourable to the Huguenots. Conde had readvanced to the Loire. The Due de Deux Ponts was preparing to come to his assistance out of Germany ; and it seemed as if the war, especially with Elizabeth's help, might stiU be indefinitely prolonged, when Conde was unex pectedly forced into an action at Jarnac, between Angoul6me and Cognac; and there, besides losing a battle, lost his life. In itself the defeat was of no con sequence. The Admiral easily rallied the Huguenot army. He kept the field, and was not obliged to retire from any important position. Conde was in himself worth but little ; his place of command was * better filled by the young Prince of Navarre, who succeeded to it; but, as a Prince of the blood royal, he was of an importance far beyond his personal merit ; and at the first news, hia cause was supposed to have perished with him. The effect upon Elizabeth was to decide her to keep the peace with France at all events and hazards. She did not know that Philip had stood her friend so conveniently. The French refugees in London peti tioned her in the name of God not to desert their 1 ' Bespondidme Sicel que queria inconstante este elemento por querer hacer a la Beyna de Inglaterra lo predominar la serenissima Beyna.' Sefiora deste Mare con supremo — Don Guerau to Philip, April 23. dominio. Yo le dixe que era muy March 13. The Reign of Elizabeth. 439 brethren, but she sent in haste for La Mothe Fenelon, Chapxvri and told him that the privateers should have no more access to her harbours ; her own subjects should no April longer serve among them, and the French prizes which they had taken should be restored. She wished', she said, that there was less violence in France ; she wished the Government would not persecute the Huguenots; she wished the Huguenots would be less scrupulous about attending mass ; but for herself, she would meddle no more between them. La Mothe was courteous, and received her advances graciously. To France, at least, he was assured that she would give no more cause of complaint.1 Towards Mary Stuart also, professedly out of deference to the wishes of the Queen-mother, she showed some increase of cordiality. From the gloom of Tutbury she allowed her to be removed to Wingfield, a pleasant country- house belonging to Lord Shrewsbury. She wrote letters to her unnecessarily warm, to which the Queen of Scots replied in a corresponding tone. The two Queens were thenceforth to live together as loving and affectionate sisters.2 It was unfortunate for them both that Elizabeth never could understand the mischief of exaggerated language, and that she was but teaching her prisoner to despise as weU as distrust her. The Queen of Scots enclosed EUzabeth's letters to La Mothe Fenelon, with a few words of most expressive contempt. ' The Queen of England has changed her note,' she said, ' because of Jarnac, although she would persuade me that Jarnac is nothing. I believe this as much as I beheve her fine words.' 3 1 La Mothe Fenelon au Boy, April — Labaitofp, vol. ii. 12, April 20. — Depeches, vol. i. 3 Mary Stuart to La Mothe Fene- 2 Mary Stuart to Elizabeth, April Ion, April. — Ibid. 8. Mary Stuart to Cecil, same date. 440 History of England. Chap The Huguenots, it was clear, were to.be left to their fate. Towards Philip, however, the attitude was firm as April ever, and Don Guerau began to be anxious for the pro mised deposition of CecU. The Lords had talked largely to him, but nothing had been done. The reputation of the English was rather as men of action than as men of words, and the Ambassador accounted for their slowness by supposing that the national character had degene rated.1 The first step, when at length they resolved to move, was not calculated to restore his confidence. To create difficulties in the city, without which it seemed they durst not stir, Arundel and Norfolk drew up a proclamation, which they sent to Don Guerau, and desired that it might be published by Alva in the Netherlands. The purport of it was, that the arrest of the ships and merchants at Antwerp had not been made as an act of hostility against the EngUsh nation, but was aimed merely at a party in the Council, who, contrary to the advice and wishes of the ancient nobUity, had broken the old league between Spain and England.2 A threat of war might con veniently be added. They recommended that the King of Spain, if their mistress wrote to him, should return no answer; and, last and most important, they suggested that the Duke of Alva should find means to intercept the great fleet which was going to Ham- 1 ' Pienso que aquellos Sefiores se create an insurrection : — ' El Duque hubieran declarado mas y mas presto, de Norfolk y el Conde de Arundel sino que esta nacion no tiene el medie'ron una forma deproclamacion, corazon que antes solia.' — DonGuerau que deseaban que el Duque de Alva to Alva, March 15. mandase publicar; pensando con ella 2 A proclamation very much to y con la estrecheza del trato que el this effect was actually published by pueblo se levantara, y ellos podrian Alva. Don Guerau says distinctly mudar al Gobierno.' — Don Guerau to that it was devised by the two Alva, April. MSS. Simancas. English noblemen with a view to The Reign of Elizabeth. 441 burgh. Half the wealth of the merchants of London Chap would be on board, and if this could be taken, and the Hamburgh project annUiilated at the same time, the A56r?I citizens, already discontented, would take arms. They said that they would then place themselves at the head of the insurrection, and the Queen would then be com pelled to part with the detested Secretary.1 From Don Guerau the two noblemen went to La Mothe : notwith- • standing Elizabeth's change of tone, they expressed a hope that France would stiU act with Alva — France, with whom but lately Norfolk had invited Elizabeth to go to war. They desired him to advise his Government to send in a bill of injuries as large as they could possibly make it; and they suggested that some Italian troops, whom the Pope had sent to France to assist in putting down the Huguenots, should be quartered in Normandy, as if for action in England. AU this was not very chivalrous. ' They are the most cautious people in the world,' Don Guerau wrote to Alva. ' They will do nothing unless we help them and show the way.' Yet their scheme might be worth executing, he thought, in default of braver measures. ' If your ExceUency's ships,' he said, ' can but catch this rich prize, it wiU be the conquest of the Island.' Hard language about men whose work for good or ill has been long past should have no place in history. It is enough to relate what they did with such allowance 1 Don Guerau never ceased to in- las naves que Vs E* ha dado licencia sist on the importance of catching que se armen estuvieron al punto de the Hamburgh fleet. ' Con solo im- tal manera que pudiesen coger esta pedir que esta flota no vaya 6 sea tan rica presa, seria conquistar esta presa los Ingleses son rendidos,' he Isla.' — Don Guerau to Alva, March says on one occasion; and again: 'Si 20 or April 10. MSS. Simancas. 442 History of England. Chap as the circumstances and passions of the time can xvn _ x suggest. Yet, if treason has a meaning — treason to April the state, which is worse than treason to the person of the sovereign — these noblemen, who deliberately for their own purposes plotted the ruin of English commerce, deserved whatever penalty law or justice could demand against them. Norfolk's guilt especially was rendered deeper by the treachery with which, at the same time, he was playing with the honour of Murray and the loyalty of Pembroke. As the plot thickened the Catholics throughout England made ready for the' con flict. They sent Don Guerau word, that with the first display of a Spanish flag on English soil, they would rise as a man in PhUip's name, and the heretics and the pirates, should meet their deserts.1 Had Catherine de Medici cared more for the Catholic faith than she cared for France, English Protestantism would have had a fiery trial before it. But as PhUip could not permit the French to invade England, so Cath erine was as little able to look complacently upon a revo lution in favour of Spain ; and the more long-sighted of the Catholics themselves began to fear that religion would be lost sight of in the quarrels of the two great Powers, and that England, as was said before, ' would become another Milan.' A secret agent of Pope Pius in London told La Mothe Fenelon, that if there was any difference of opinion — if there was the faintest cloud of suspicion between the Courts of Paris and Madrid — it would be better for Christendom that Eng- 1 ' Muchos Catolicos me escriben tigo de algunos insolentes hereges y cartas secretamente que en viendo desvergonzados ladrones, yo no tengo banderas de V. Magd en este reyno por cosa dificil en sugetar este reyno se levantaran todos para servirle ; y 6 a, lo menos hacer mudar el gobierno eierto como se me dan entender por y religion.' — Don Guerau to PhUip, V. Magd en la reduction del y cas- April z. MSS. Simancas. The Reign of Elizabeth. 443 land should be let alone ; the evil of interfering would Chap XVII outweigh the good. Don Guerau had desired that, to increase the mercantUe pressure in London, the Eng- Aprjj lish should be excluded from the ports of France : ' I know not what to think about this,' La Mothe Fenelon wrote to his sovereign : ' it may be that 'the Duke of Alva means only to extort from Eng- ' land reparation for his own wrongs, and when he ' has implicated your Majesty in the quarrel wUl make ' up his own differences with the Queen and leave the ' storm to faU on you. If I may venture to advise, your ' Majesty wiU remain on good terms with the Pope and ' the CathoUc King, but you will remain also at peace ' with this realm. You may teU the Council here, that ' inasmuch as their conduct has been so outrageous both ' towards the Catholics and the Queen of Scots ; inasmuch ' as they have aUowed so many heretics to collect here ' from all parts of Europe, and have made England the ' focus of so many heretic conspiracies, at the request ofhis ' Holiness, Italian troops wUl be stationed in Normandy. ' You may say that the King of Spain has requested you ' to co-operate with him, and in duty to your own sub jects you must protect them from the English pirates ; ' but at the same time you will give the Duke of Alva ' to understand that France cannot permit England to ' be conquered by Spain ; he may do whatever he may ' think necessary for the recovery of the stolen money — ' but you cannot allow him to make a descent upon the ' English coast.' x 1 'N'obmettantpour leur grandeur Boys n'ont jamais voulu permettre et reputation, de faire demander au qu'on fist conqueste dans ce Boy- due d'Alva qu'est^ce qu'il pretend aulme; cognoissans que cela im- faire contre ceste Beyne et son pays, portoit a la seurete" de leur, et que et la facon comme ils entendent que comme le feu Empereur fut bien en I'entreprinse soit limitoe; en quoy accord avec le feu Boy Francoys pourront remonstrer que les feuz premier qu'il peult bien faire la 444 History of England. Chap Philip was pouring cold water on the ambition of France, XVII and France was dreading equally the too great success A.pni of Alva. The two governments were still far from the ' accord ' which Cecil feared ; and if the Hamburgh trade could be carried on safely, and the Cathohcs at home be controlled, Elizabeth had but to manage France skilfully and she could still afford to despise the intrigues of the Spanish Ambassador. Her security and her strength were better understood abroad than at home. While Cecil described himself as almost desperate, Sir Henry KUlegrew wrote from Hamburgh in May, in a tone of enthusiastic exultation. ' I think,' he said, ' the Queen's ' Majesty is more feared and honoured this day, of aU ' countries, what religion soever they be of, than any of ' her predecessors before her were : I beseech God her ' Highness do hold fast, and I doubt not but to see ' in her days the ancient honour and fame of England ' and Englishmen — how blemished for a time — restored ' again to the glory of God.' x But could the Catholics be controlled — heated as they had been tq boiling point by the hopes held out to them? It depended first on the Queen of Scots, and secondly on the maintenance or the overthrow of Cecil. Could Mary Stuart have parted with her visions of ven geance and revolution, and have accepted honestly the arrangements in her favour which had been concerted between Leicester, Pembroke, Norfolk, Herries, and Mur ray; could Norfolk at the same time have separated guerre au Boy Henri huictiesme de ses deniers et des prinses, sans d'Angleterre pour le recouvrement qu'il face aussi descente ny entre- de Boulogne sans toucher noantmoins prinse dans ledict royaulme.' — De ny descendre aulcunement en son peches, April 20, vol. i. pp. 335. 336. Boyaulme, que de mesme ilz trou- 1 Sir H. Killegrew to Cecil. Ham- vent bon que le due d' Alva face tout burgh, May 2$, T569. — MSS. Hat es qu'il pourra pour le recouvrement field. The Reign of Elizabeth. 445 himself from his more dangerous associates and become ^hap as loyal as he pretended to be to his mistress; it is likely — it may be called certain — that Elizabeth, in her April desire for peace, would in time have given her own con sent to the marriage. The French, for their honour's sake, were compelled to press for Mary Stuart's restora tion — restoration in some shape and restricted by any conditions, if only they could escape the accusation of having abandoned her to her prison. Her re-establish ment as Norfolk's wife and as a member of the Church of England would have given peace to Scotland, would have restored at once a good understanding between Paris and London, and have quieted the uneasiness of the mass of Elizabeth's subjects. All, however, depended on the good faith of the principal parties, and of this the signs were ominous. The first act of reconciliation had been played out at Glasgow. Mary Stuart, when she heard that her friends were giving way to the Regent, burst into tears. ' Her lips and face were swoUen with weeping. She would eat nothing at supper, but wept as she sate.'1 Her true mind was fastened upon re venge and triumph. She had hoped that her party in Scotland would have led the way to the universal rising which was to raise her from her prison to a throne. She deplored their cowardice. ' With her authority and theirs and three quarters of the people at her devotion,' she trusted rather to have heard that they had hurled Murray out of the country.2 She wrote herself to upbraid them, and, perplexed as they were among many councUs, they submitted to be guided by her. When 1 Shrewsbury to Cecil, April 8, Ion, April — and April 18. — Lab Air- April 27. — MSS. Queen of Scots. off, vol. ii. 2 Mary Stuart to La Mothe Fene- 446 History of England. Chap the second conference came off at Edinburgh, which "5CVTT was to have healed aU wounds and opened the. way for April Maitland's mission to Elizabeth, Chatelherault 'was moved to such repentance that he exclaimed in tears, he knew no authority but the Queen's.' Huntly and Argyle would agree to nothing ; and the assembly broke up in confusion.1 The Duke of Alva, meanwhile had issued Norfolk's proclamation. A copy was sent to England, and inasmuch as Alva charged the Queen with having acted against the advice of the nobility, Cecil, offering a full front to the danger, drew an answer of indignant denial, to which he announced that he would require the CouncU-to attach their signatures. A meeting was called for fhe purpose, at which the leaders of the conspiracy refused to be present. Norfolk was many times summoned and Arundel also, but they would not attend ; and the Queen at last consented, or desired, that the difficulty should be waived and the proclamation he left without reply.2 Taking courage from Elizabeth's hesitation, Norfolk sent word to Don Guerau that in a few daj^s all would be over. CecU would be deposed and the stolen property restored.3 After a rapid arrangement with the Bishop of Ross, . l La Mothe, May 6. — DSpeehes, Duque de Norfolk y el Conde de vol. i. Arundel nuncaquisieroniral consejo, 2 'Sicel comencoresponder con otro y les enviaron muchas embajadas los Placarte al qual habia ordenado con del parte de Sicel ; pero al fin la palabras muy arrogantes ; y porque el Beyna ha sido contenta que no se res- Duque de Alva dice que estos pro- ponda al Placarte del Duque.' — Don gresos de la Beyna son contra la vo- Guerau to Philip, April 23. luntad de la mayor parte de los 3 ' Dicen el Duque y el Conde que Nobles, Cecil lo queria hacer firmar dentro de breves dias ellos haran no solo a los del consejo pero aun a, que la Beyna haga lo que debe, y los mas prmcipales del Beyno. El mudaran al gobierno.' — Ibid. The Reign of Elizabeth. 447 and after exchanging letters with the Queen of Scots,1 Chap they made up their minds to do as Norfolk's grand- father had done to Thomas Cromwell. Three times ipni they came down to the Council, intending to rise from it with Cecil a prisoner ; but three times, as Don Guerau wrote contemptuously to Philip, 'their courage failed; ' they went to work like Englishmen, who could not act ' like men of other countries; they excused themselves ' by saying that so many of the Council had dipped ' their hands in Spanish plunder that they could not ' count upon support; but in fact they were poor- ' spirited. Like Englishmen they would have things ' well done, but they would leave the doing of them to ' his Majesty, without risk or trouble to themselves ; ' and then they would give his Majesty their thanks.' 2 They were in debt, too, all of them — Norfolk, Arun del, and Lord Lumley, another of the same set. They pretended that they were without money for so great an enterprise. They desired Alva to supply them before they began, and they offered to give him bonds for repayment. Don Guerau said that they must earn their wages before they received them ; his master could not throw away his money without an equivalent. As they would not move without it and seemed to catch at the excuse, he so far yielded at last that he procured 5000Z. for them; but time was wasted in the interval, ' Don Guerau, in a history of the him to consent to nothing at Edin- whole proceedings which he sent to burgh, and more distinctly in a letter Philip on the 1 5th of June, says of the 5th of May to Chatelherault, expressly, 'que lo escribian a la in which she says, 'Fear not upon Beyna de Escocia.' He fixes the my word. Bide constant and ye time at which they wrote as the last shall have that ye desire of one part week in April, and it must ha^e been or the other. Shortly ye shall hear therefore to this communication that more.' — Labanoef, vol. ii. Mary Stuart alluded in a letter of 2 Don Guerau to Philip, June 15. the 28th of April to Argyle, urging 448 History of England. Chap and before it arrived, Cecil, with extreme address, had XVII discovered and disconcerted the plot. He was perhaps April ignorant that Norfolk had meditated anything beyond an alteration in the public policy of the country. He supposed that the Duke was not wholly insincere in professing to be a Protestant. He frankly went to him, and declared that he himself had no end in view in the course which he had pursued, except what he believed to be the interest of his country ; if the Duke and Arundel disapproved of the attitude which had been assumed towards Spain, he said that they might go both of them to Madrid, and take powers with them to arrange the dispute as they might think best with Philip. For himself he wished for nothing but some general settlement, by which Catholic and Protestant could be assured their natural liberty, and in whieh Scotland, France, and Flanders could be all included. These proposals alone might not have been effectual. The mission to Spain in no way met the Duke of Nor folk's wishes; indeed, after the recent fate of Count Montigny,1 it might not seem altogether safe.2 But Cecil had another argument, which the Duke, a poor mean creature, crippled with debt and hungry for money, was in no condition to resist.- The great cause of the Dacres estates was coming on before the Court of Chancery. If Norfolk could carry his point, he would not only secure the heiresses for his sons, but the 1 Sent on an embassy from the la del todo, y puso el mismo incon- Low Countries to Philip and pri- venientes despues, diciendoles que si vately put to death at Simancas. iban por Ventura los detendrian en 2 'Y despues tambien salio vana la Espana, y assi esto tanpoco hubd determinacion de enviar a Espana, efecto.' — Don Guerau to PhUip, June lo qual estos Senores me lo hacian 15. saber con confusion sin declararme The Reign of Elizabeth. 449 administration of the whole vast property during their Chap minority. CecU promised the influence of the Govern- ment on his side, and thus succeeded for a time in sepa- ^y rating him from the rest of his party. The intended revolution had brought up from the country Leonard Dacres himself, Lord Montague, the Earl of Cumber land, and other Catholic knights and gentlemen. The Bishop of Ross hurried up from Wingfield, aU eager to be present at the arrest of CecU. x Montague and Cum berland were Dacres' brothers-in-law, and devoted to his interests. They arrived only to find a litigation in pro cess, by which one of the few remaining noble families of the old blood was to be sacrificed to the Duke of Norfolk's covetousness, and the Duke himself accepting the support of the minister whose destruction they had been invited to witness. Violent differences among themselves, a more com plete separation of the CathoUcs from Norfolk, and the suspension at the same time of immediate action, were the necessary consequences. The Duke fell back upon Leicester and Pembroke, and the marriage with the Queen of Scots in the Protestant interest. He even ventured to mention the subject to Cecil, who listened with silence, but with no positive disapproval. MeanwhUe EUzabeth, ignorant as yet that the pro ject was revived, was only anxious to rid the kingdom and herself of her dangerous prisoner. She did not mean to sacrifice her own peace for the convenience of Scotland. Except for the promises with which she had 1 ' Estos caballeros daban parte del ellos pensaban hacer. Tambien sa- dichonegocioalaSerenissimaBeyna bian dello Milord Montague y el de Escocia y para aquellos dias que Conde de Cumberland y otros Catoli- ellos habian senalado hicieron venir cos que para aquel effecto vinieron aqui al Obispo de Boss, para que se aqui.' — Don Guerau to PhUip, June hallase en la detention de Cecil que 15. ELIZ. III. G G 450 History of England. Chap entangled herself towards Murray, she would have ex- XYn torted conditions which would have been sufficient for i 169 her own security, and have sent her back with a high 7 hand. As time went on, and as the inconvenience of her presence became felt more sensibly, these conditions became increasingly lighter. Having resolved not to digrace her, the Queen was being driven to act towards her as if her innocence had been proved. Many pa^ pers remain in Cecil's hand indicating both his own and Elizabeth's uncertainty, and the desire of both of them to be quit of her almost on any terms. Three- alter natives were offered to the Bishop of Ross at the end of April. Either the Queen of Scots might recognise the existing government in Scotland, with a security that if the Prince died she should resume the crown ; or she might reign jointly with the Prince, the administra tion remaining in the hands of Murray and the present Council: or, lastly, if she would consent to neither of these conditions, she might be again sole Queen, if she would give sufficient securities for her future behaviour. She must consent to the maintenance of the religion established in Scotland, ' declaring the crown of Scotland as free from the foreign jurisdiction of Rome as the crown of England.' If she could not herself join the Scotch communion, she might be a member of the Church of England, as she had already professed her wUlingness to be.1 Some trustworthy person — if possible the Earl of Murray, 'as there was none so meet in aU Scotland '. — would have to 1 Mary Stuart had been careful to Lord of Shrewsbury,' writes Sir keep up the hopes of her possible Thomas Gargrave on the 3rd of conversion among those about her, April, ' hath provided that the said although to Catholics English and Queen hath heard weekly all this foreign she always insisted on her Lent three sermons— every Sunday, orthodoxy. It is frightful to think Wednesday, and Friday one— where- what she must have suffered. ' My in she hath been very well persuaded The Reign of Elizabeth. 451 continue in the Regency. The forfeitures on all sides Chap should be declared void, and the Queen of Scots must ratify, if not the whole treaty of Leith, yet so much ^ of it as touched the rights of Ehzabeth herself. The Scotch ParUament must undertake that the conditions should be observed, and if they were violated by Mary Stuart herself, she was to be understood to have ipso facto forfeited her crown. x These offers were submitted to the Queen of Scots at various intervals and accompanied by language which Elizabeth would have done better to have left unspoken. ' She is careful of your Majesty's welfare,' the Bishop of Ross told his mistress, 'and nothing content of your subjects who are declined from your obedience: she says your rebels in Scotland are not worthy to live : I perceive your good sister and all the nobility here be more careful of your honour, weal, and advancement than I ever perceived them before.'2 The difficulty was the treaty of Leith. The ratifi cation was the price which the Queen of Scots had all along determined to pay for the recognition of her place in the succession. The Bishop told Elizabeth that she would submit the question to the King of Spain; if Phihp decided against her she would yield. That a proposal so preposterous should have been brought for ward at aU showed the measure of her confidence. She believed Elizabeth was a fool, on whom she might play as upon an instrument. As Elizabeth was obstinate, she thought that a to the reading of Scriptures, and the Queen of Scots, May i, 1569. she is, as I am advertised, very at- In Cecil's hand. — Cotton MSS., tentive at the sermons, and doth not Calig. C i. lose one.'— Cotton MSS., Calig. B. * The Bishop of Boss to Mary ix. fol. 383. Stuart, May 2.— MSS. Queen of 1 Consideration of the matters of Scots. 452 History of England. Chap sudden Ulness might produce an effect upon her; and writing to La Mothe Fenelon to present a sharp Jfof' demand for her release, she professed to be seized with symptoms of the same disorder which had so nearly kUled her at Jedburgh. 1 They were harmless, being the result merely of pills, but she had calculated justly on the alarm of the Queen of England, who dreaded nothing so much as any serious Ulness of her prisoner which the world would attribute to poison.2 Cecil and Bacon did their utmost to modify their mistress's anxiety, but the stream was too strong for them. In one way or the other she was determined to wash her hands of the nuisance which was clinging to them. She told the Bishop of Ross that 'she could not of her honour nor friendly and loving duty suffer the Queen her good sister to perish without help :' the resignation at Lochleven had been extorted by force, and should be treated as if it had no existence. If she would not ratify the treaty of Leith, it should not be insisted on ; if Murray's Regency was unpalatable to her, it might be terminated : she must promise only a general amnesty, and undertake to be guided for the future by a council of state which could be selected by a Commission out of the nobility. If she preferred to remain a Catholic, she need only tolerate the Reformed religion, and agree generally to such stipulations as should be considered necessary by the Queen of Eng land and the Peers ' for the security of her Highness's person and the weal of both Realms.' 3 1 Mary Stuart to the Bishop of me dice.'— Don Guerau to Alva, Boss and La Mothe, May 10. — La- June i. banoff, vol. ii. a Articles delivered to the Bishop 2 'La dolencia de la Beyna de of Boss at the Queen Majesty of Escocia file" fmgida para mover al England's commandment, May — , animo de esta Beyna, y habia hecho 1569, — MSS. Qtteen of Scots. buen efecto con ella segun el obispo The Reign of Elizabeth. 453 It appeared as if Leicester and Pembroke had been Chapvtttt right in their fears, and as if their mistress, in her eagerness to be quit of the Queen of Scots, would set her j^ at liberty at last without any conditions at all. With such an impression of her character they might well think that to marry Mary Stuart to some loyal English nobleman was the wisest course which could be pursued. Finding the Queen in such a humour, the Council held a secret meeting without her knowledge. Cecil probably was present, for the report of the proceedings is endorsed in his hand. They sent for the Bishop of Ross, and desired him to submit to the Queen of Scots the following questions : — i. Whether she would wholly refer herself and her cause to the Queen of England? 2. Whether she would satisfy and assure the Queen's Majesty in aU things concerning her title to the crown? 3. Whether she would cause the same religion pro fessed in England to' be estabUshed in Scotland by Par Uament? 4. Whether the league .between Scotland and France should be dissolved, and an assured perpetual league be made between England and Scotland? 5. Whether touching her marriage with the Duke of Norfolk, which had been moved by the Earl of Murray and Lidington, she would wholly refer herself to the Queen's Majesty, and therein do as she would have her, and as her Majesty did like thereof — willing that all things should be done for her Majesty's surety which might be best devised by the whole Council? x These enquiries were conceived in a spirit of un doubted loyalty to Ehzabeth. The mind by which they 1 Heads and articles of certain nobility of England, June 1569. — conferences had \ ith some of the MSS. Qtteen of Scots. 454 History of England. Chap were composed — it was probably Cecil's own — was truer XYn to her than her present humour allowed her to be to L5fi9 herself. June . „ The Queen of Scots was contemplating a future con siderably different from what was thus marked out for her, and Elizabeth's evident weakness encouraged her most sanguine anticipations. But she knew Elizabeth to be changeable. The approaches which were here made to her came from those who had been most keenly opposed to her restoration in any form. Could she gain their confidence or neutralise their opposition, she could feel assured that her imprisonment would soon be at an end. Norfolk's own honour would require that she should be replaced on her throne before the marriage could take place ; and any promises either to him or to others might be interpreted as having been made in con finement, and therefore as of no obligation. She might either accept Norfolk then — and she knew that he would be as clay in her hands — or she might throw herself upon PhiUp and take Don John, or, if Philip refused, she might tempt Catherine de Medici to give her another of her sons. The Queen of Scots never threw a chance away or refused an offered hand. To the two first questions she rephed with unreserved acquiescence. For the third she referred to her original instruc tions to her commissioners, which also were entirely satisfactory. About the league she consented also. She professed herself willing to unite with England and to separate from France. To the fifth, which concerned her marriage, she re turned the following remarkable answer : — ' My fortune,' she said, ' has been so evil in the pro- The Reign of Elizabeth. 455 ' gress of my life, and specially in my marriages, as Chap ' hardly I can be brought to have any mind to like of ' an husband — but rather by a simple and soUtary life jj[jj9 ' to give testimony by my continent behaviour to all ' those who might put doubt therein. The troubles ' passed have so weakened the state of my body, as I ' cannot think any certainty of my continuance ; and ' thus neither shall I receive thereby after so many ' storms any feUcity, nor should I leave him that I ' should marry in so good estate as he now is. Never- ' theless, being resolved of certain doubts which occur to ' me from the trust I have in the Queen my good sister, ' and her nobility's friendship towards me, as also from ' the goodwUl I perceive my Lord of Norfolk bears to- ' wards me, hearing him so weU reported abroad, I will ' wholly foUow their counsel, not doubting but as I ' trust them herein, being in the greatest matter that ' can appertain to myself, they will have consideration ' of my causes as of her that whoUy committeth herself ' into their hands. Though not to boast myself yet be- ' cause they might somewhat the better think of my true ' meaning to the Queen my good sister, as also of my ' good affection to those of the nobility and the realm to ' which I count not myself a stranger, I assure you that ' if either men or money to have reduced my rebels to ' their due obedience could have ticed me, I would have ' been provided of a husband ere now. But I seeking ' which way to please my good sister and them here, ' did never give ear to any such offer. Now this I make ' account to myself, that if I should marry with my ' Lord of Norfolk I am sure to lose all my friends beyond ' the seas, as France and Spain and aU other Catholic ' princes. This is the greatest loss that I could lose. ' In recompense' whereof if I do by following of her 456 History of England. Chap ' counsel take this hurt, what friendship therefore shall XYn 'I win in the stead to be sure tome? If I should give June ' mv consent to my Lord of Norfolk in this behalf, I ' would - know how my good sister's will and consent ' may be had to the same. Pray, my Lords, to bear ' with me though I cast some doubt therein, considering ' how unwilling I have found her to have me bestowed ' in marriage before, as I am sure themselves know. ' I would in this cause have as much consideration of ' him that should be my husband as I would have of 'myself. I would be loath to bring him who now ' I know has as much felicity and contentation as any ' nobleman of his calling can desire to a worse estate ; ' and, therefore, I would be glad to know not only if my ' good sister would like thereof, but also how friendly ' those of the nobility would deal with him, that he ' might not be with his sovereign Princess and country- ' men as my late husband the Lord Darnley was, which ' I to my grief did then find, and I would be sorry to ' enter into the alliance whereof I was well warned.'1 The part was well played, the tone assumed through out the answer was exactly pitched to please the Council. It was graceful, dignified, self-respecting, and on the points of substantial concession left nothing to be de sired. The next step would naturally have been to consult Elizabeth; but there was a latent feeling among the Lords that the proposal would not be welcome if it came from themselves. They preferred to have it opened by Murray, and they waited impatiently for the coming of Maitland, whom Elizabeth herself appeared to expect. But Murray, as well as they, had his own grounds 1 Answer of the Queen of Scots. — MSS. Rolls House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 457 for hesitation. In explaining his conduct afterwards to Chap XVII Cecil, he said, that ' if the Queen, as she had led him to expect, had pronounced a decisive judgment at Hampton ju^ Court, he would have listened to no overtures from the Duke of Norfolk at all. But seeing her Highness so earnestly traveUing for his sisters' restoration, he could not think it profitable to lose the benevolence of such as seemed bent that way.' ' The Queen had been so strange and uncertain, that she had given him mat ter enough to think the marriage might be the thing which she most desired.'1 But, like the Lords, he shrunk from speaking of it tUl he knew how it was likely to be taken. And he had another difficulty. Norfolk desired that the restoration should precede the marriage, as if to clear the Queen of Scots' reputation. Murray's caution made him prefer that she should be safely married first. According to Norfolk, the first step should be a request from Murray and his friends for his sister's release. Murray, to whom neither the marriage nor the restoration was welcome in itself, knew his sister too well to take her back till her hands were tied. His part was in every way a most difficult one; but, on the whole, he preferred to act as if these secret intrigues had no existence, and at aU events, as long as he was Regent of Scotland he resolved to do his own duty there. On the failure of the conference at Edinburgh, Huntly proclaimed Mary Stuart in the north of Scotland, Lord Fleming held Dumbarton in her name, and Argyle refused to acknowledge the King's government. The Regent, to secure Edinburgh, sent Chatelherault and Herries to the castle, and prepared to take the field. The rumour that 1 Murray to Cecil, October 29. Murray to Elizabeth, October 29. — MSS. Scotland. 458 History of England. °5^ the Queen was coming back had been circulated every- where with the worst effects. As a prelude to active june measures he issued a proclamation containing a true account of the results of the investigation at Hampton Court. He said that he had been caUed before the Queen of England to answer to a charge of high trea son. After diligent trial it was found and declared that he and the noblemen who had acted with him had done nothing 'which did not become honest and faithful subjects of their bounden duty for the appeasing of God's wrath and for the common weal of their native country.' ' The charges against them had been dis missed, and his own government wUled to continue.' ' He had been compeUed to manifest and declare the truth that the King's mother had been participant in the murder of her husband.' He had been chal lenged to prove his words before the Queen of England and her whole estate, and the accusation ' was suffi ciently verifiedj and by the Queen's handwrit noto riously proven.' x Whatever might be EUzabeth's displeasure, Murray could not afford that the truth should be concealed. In the use of the words the ' King's mother,' he intimated that to him Mary Stuart was as yet no more than a pri vate person, and with this distinct declaration he set out on his expedition against the Gordons. It was exactly at the time when EUzabeth's irritation and impetuosity, aggravated by the pretended illness of the Queen of Scots, had reached their highest point. She had already sent to him a sketch of the terms on which she considered that a restoration could be effected. The proclamation came back to her as a sort of defiance. As the Regent. 1 Copy of a proclamation set out by the Earl Murray in Scotland, May 13. — MSS. Scotland, Rolls House. The Reign of Elizabeth. 459 was on his way to Aberdeen he was overtaken by a chap messenger whom she had despatched to teU him that xvn she would wait no longer : she insisted upon an imme- '569 diate answer, whether he would or would not receive back his Sovereign on those conditions. A demand at once so serious and so peremptory took Murray by surprise. The restoration might be necessary; but in any way it appeared undesirable to proceed with it precipitately. He suspected that it was connected with the Norfolk marriage; but whether Elizabeth desired it or feared it, he could not teU. He thanked her 'for having communicated so weighty a matter privately to him, rather than by open dealing to have endangered both the state and him.' x He wrote to Cecil that he could not answer on the spot. He would make as much haste as the gravity of the matter would permit. ' What was good for the Queen of England was good for Scotland ; and however dan gerous it might seem, he thought himself debtbound to accept it.' 2 But he must consult his friends, and the Queen should learn their decision on his return from the North. The journey, so far as concerned its immediate object, was eminently successful. Huntly offered no resistance. Argyle promised to do as Huntly did; The mere display of force brought present quiet; but Ehzabeth, in her existing humour, was only the more exasperated. When there was a question of receiving back a deposed Sovereign, a meeting of the nobles was no unreasonable preliminary; but her impatience could iU endure even the few days' delay which it required. She wrote again to Murray, saying 1 Murray to Elizabeth, June 5. — MSS. Scotland. 3 Murray to Cecil. — Ibid. 460 History of England. Chap she was surprised that he should have hesitated for a xvn moment in gratifying her desire. She ' had thought it L569 convenient therefore to admonish him.' ' She wished him July to think that the protracting of time to consider such weighty causes might prove so disadvantageous, that he would himself be sorry to have pretermitted the opportunity which she had offered him.' x In other words, notwithstanding the promises by which she had tempted Murray to produce the Queen of Scots' letters, she was positively determined to send her back again, whether her subjects desired it or consented to it, or refused to hear of it. Entirely at a loss to understand her conduct, but resolute not to yield tiU he saw his way, Murray wrote for information to Norfolk. The letter is lost, but Norfolk's answer survives, and is a singular tribute to the good faith with which Murray was acting and had acted throughout. The Duke told him that he regarded him 'not only as a faithful friend, but as a natural brother ; ' that he was as careful ' of Murray's welfare as of his own honour.' He wrote, he said, in the Queen of Scots' name as weU as his own. Lord Boyd, the bearer of the letter, had seen the Queen of Scots, and was empowered by her 'to resolve him in all doubts.' As to the marriage, 'he had proceeded so far in it that he could not with con science revoke what he had done ; ' but it was impos sible for liim to go forward tiU Murray had removed the stumbhngblocks which were an impeachment to their apparent proceedings.' ' That must be done first, and aU the rest would then follow, to Murray's ease and comfort.' ' The union of the Island in one kingdom in times coming, and the maintenance of God's true 1 Elizabeth to Murray, July 17.— MSS. Scotland. The Reign of Elizabeth. 461 religion' — these were the objects to be secured, and £hap there were many enemies, who would imperil, if they could, so great a purpose. He recommended Murray, July therefore, to recall the Queen immediately, and make haste to have her formally divorced from the Earl of BothweU.1 How Murray might have been influenced by Nor folk's arguments had they been left to work upon him alone, it is hard to say; but two fresh inci dents occurred to confirm his uncertainty. One was the capture of French Paris, who was kidnapped in Denmark, brought first to Leith, and then to Aberdeen. There he had been examined by Buchanan during the northern expedition. His depositions had revived the recoUection of the more atrocious features of the murder of Darnley. He mentioned circumstances which would have aggravated, had aggravation been possible, the hatefulness of Mary Stuart's treachery, and made the thought of her return more vividly intolerable. The other was a commission, which Mary Stuart had issued, for the furtherance of her suit of divorce. She had described herself in the preamble as Queen of Scotland, with aU her styles and titles ; and while to the English CouncU she was undertaking to maintain the Reformed religion, while Norfolk was innocently writing to Mur ray of the advantages to be expected from her restora tion 'to the service of God,' she had the imprudence to style the CathoUc Archbishop of St. Andrews the supreme ruler of the Church of Scotland. Mary Stuart lacked the skill to subdue herself in her moments of elation, and wear her modest veU till it was time to throw it off. Maitland was seriously Norfolk to Murray, July 31. — Bttrghley Papers, vol. i. 462 History of England. 9^ compromised by Paris ; he was seen to have had his hand deeper than Murray knew in the tragedy of juiy Kirk o' Field. Confidence in him and in his scheming had become impossible; and with the darkness all around him, and with such dangerous lights at times breaking from it, the Regent was proof against Nor folk's blandishments and Elizabeth's commands. He could but fall at the worst, and it was better to fall nobly at his post and in his duty to Scotland, than start aside into crooked ways and stultify aU that he had done. He called about him the small gaUant knot of men who had stood by the Reformation through good and evil. The Earls of Mar, Glencairn, and Morton, the Master of Montrose, Lords Semple, Ruthven, and Oliphant, met him at Perth, at the end of July. He would not aUow Mary Stuart to plead that he had packed his convention. He invited Huntly, Athole, and Mait land, and they thought it prudent to attend.. Ten earls, fifteen lords, five bishops, and commissioners of the Commons from every town in Scotland, came at his summons to consider Elizabeth's demands. They decided with a preponderance of voices before which the secret dissentients were forced to be silent, that, although, if it could be done with security to themselves and to him, they were ready to receive the late Queen among them as a private person, they considered her return to the throne, either alone or in conjunction with her son, as ' so prejudicial to the state, and so dan gerous for the unquieting of the whole Isle, that they would in no wise consent to it.' ' The petition for the divorcement was utterly rejected.' The reading of Mary Stuart's commission was received with an up roar which Maitland in vain endeavoured to allay ; and The Reign of Elizabeth. 463 ' it was declared treason to reason for the future for the Chap Queen's authority.' x Elizabeth received the resolutions of the convention jufy with an anger which she did not care to conceal. Then, as always, when she was alarmed for her own com fort, she saw in Mary Stuart an injured Sovereign, and in Murray a disobedient traitor. Then, as always, she was unable to remember that the Scots were no subjects of hers. She dismissed the messenger who brought it upon the spot, bidding him go back and say to the Regent, that he must consider better of his proceedings, and as he meant to have the continuance of her favour, he must satisfy her speedily in some more substantial manner. ' Otherwise,' she wrote to Murray herself, ' you shaU occasion us, without any ' further delay, to proceed of ourselves to make such a ' determination with the Queen of Scots as we shall find 'honourable and meet for ourselves; and in so doing, ' considering we perceive by your manner of deahng ' you only respect yourself and no other party, we doubt ' how you wiU like it : and then, though you shall after- ' wards yield to more conformity, it may prove too late ' and not recoverable by repentance.' 2 A few days after a report came that Murray was preparing to recover Dumbarton, and to take fresh steps to coerce the recusant Borderers. Ehzabeth followed up her first message by a second, ' that she would not allow such doings,' and unless she received some immediate satisfactory answer to her last letter, 'she would be occasioned to proceed in such sort without him as percase he should find too much against him, and the fault thereof to proceed only from himself and none } Hunsdon to Cecil, August 5. — a Elizabeth to Murray, August 12. MSS. Scotland. —MSS. Scotland. 464 History of England. Chap other.'1 She sent orders to Lord Scrope, if Murray attempted anything against the Border gentlemen, to 1569 receive and protect them. In her letter she caUed August L Mary Stuart Queen, and the Lords her subjects.2 A few weeks later Elizabeth found occasion to. change her tone. Murray had then become again the saviour of his country, and Mary Stuart and the Borderers the enemies of her and mankind. It was her misfortune that while she could hesitate inde finitely when action was immediately necessary, the 'perturbations of her mind,' as Knollys called them, at other times swayed her into extremes, and she allowed sudden alarms and sudden provocations to tempt her to the most iU-judged precipitancy. Her violent moods were happily of brief duration. Her present excitement arose partly from a belief that the Huguenots had been crushed at Jarnac, partly from the irritation into which she was thrown by hearing graduaUy of the scheme for the Norfolk marriage. The defiant attitude, however, which Coligny was still able to maintain reassured her about her danger from France. The western gentlemen, when they were for bidden to cruise any longer under the Huguenot flag, petitioned in a body for leave to serve in France under the Admiral, and Lord Huntingdon asked permission to seU his estate and join the Huguenot army with 10,000 men.3 The national enmity against France was at all times blown easily into flame, and whatever might be the feelings of the Queen and the nobles, the English Commons in this period of growing Pu- 1 Elizabeth to Murray, August 20. pedir licencia a, la Beyna para vender —MSS. Scotland. su estado y hacer diez mill hombres 2 Elizabeth to Scrope, August 29. y juntarse con el Almirante. '—Don —MSS. Border. Guerau to PhUip. MSS. Simancas. 3 ' El Conde de Huntingdon fu<5 a The Reign of Elizabeth. 465 ritanism identified themselves heart and soul with ChapXVII their struggling brothers. ' The war party,' La Mothe was forced to confess, 'had more life and energy in August them than their opponents.' 1 Although there might be differences about religion in England, all parties united in their desire to recover Calais. The Catholics beUeved that if England and France were at war, PhUip would be compeUed to strike in upon Elizabeth's side. The Spanish quarrel would be made up, and the Catholic King would recover the natural influence of an active aUy. 30,000?. were sent over to the Admiral, and La Mothe beUeved that it had been supplied by the Treasuiy. Elizabeth, when he complained, replied, that if it was so, her coffers must be like the widow's cruise, for no money was missing from them. He dis covered that it had been raised by subscription in the western counties among the owners of the privateers}2 who had grown rich upon their pillage. It is easy to see how great must have been the confusion, when a Protestant crusade was being en couraged by Catholics and semi-Catholics. These movements were but eddies in the main stream of tendency; but the spirit of her people restored the Queen to her self-possession, whUe on the other great subject of her uneasiness she was now to learn that she could have done nothing more fatal to herself than act upon her threats to Murray. In their first disgust at their apparent abandonment by Norfolk, the more earnest Catholics had attached themselves to Leonard Dacres and his friends. The Duke's marriage with the Queen of Scots as con- 1 ' Bs ont trop plus de vivacite" et vol. i. d'entreprinse que les aultres. '—La 3 Ibid., July 27. Mothe au Roy, June 21. Depeches, ELIZ. III. H H 46 6 History of England. Chap certed at present bv the Protestant section of the . Council promised nothing to the cause of religion. It AuS<49st was ratner likely to be accompanied with a firmer establishment of the Reformation in both countries. To this most important condition they could not be ignorant that the Queen of Scots had consented. They did not yet know how lightly such engagements could sit upon her, and they distrusted the feebleness and selfishness of Norfolk's character. To them, there fore, there appeared but one road open — to avail themselves of the Spanish quarrel before it should be made up, with the quasi sanction which they had received from Philip, and to rise in open rebellion. The Earls of Cumberland, Westmoreland, Northumberland, and Leicester, Leonard Dacres himself, Montague, Lumley, and many others, intimated to Don Guerau that they were prepared to take arms. Lord Derby they expected would join them. Lord Shrewsbury would be with them in heart, and Lord Talbot, his eldest son, was in their confidence. They proposed to raise the whole North by a sudden simultaneous movement, set the Queen of Scots at liberty, proclaim her Queen of England, and re-establish the Catholic religion. They would decide after their victory what to do with Eliza beth and her ministers. The more troublesome of the Bishops they would send over to Flanders for Alva, to be disposed of in the Great Square at Brussels.1 The Queen of Scots might marry whom she herself pleased or whomsoever the King of Spain might suggest. To Mary Stuart herself such an alternative was simply delightful. She had never pretended to Don Guerau that she looked on her marriage with Norfolk 1 ' Dicen que dos 6 tres obispos que —Don Guerau to PhUip, July 5. les hacen embarazo les prenderan y MSS. Simancas. enviaran a Flandes al Duque de Alva.' The Reign of Elizabeth. 467 with anything but distaste. Her ambition aspired to a Chap Spanish prince at the lowest, and believing that the Ambassador shared her own desire, she sent the Bishop August of Ross to him to explain away her acquiescence in the propositions of the Council as forced upon her by a hard necessity.1 The experience of English revolutions in past centu ries might seem to justify the confidence of the Northern earls. A coahtion less powerful and without the addition of religious enthusiasm had placed Henry of Lancaster on the throne of Richard II. Edward IV., when he landed at Ravenspurg, and EUzabeth's grand father before Bosworth field, had fainter grounds to anticipate success than the party who was now pre paring to snatch England out of the hands of revo lution and restore the ancient order in Church and State. Don Guerau, however, imagined that for some unknown reason the English had grown fainter-hearted than their forefathers, and he believed that policy might effect more than force. He was conscious of the dan ger of disunion. He felt the extreme desirableness of bringing Norfolk and his father-in-law Arundel again into coalition with the more determined Catholics, and he probably knew that for many reasons — from jealousy of his brother as weU as aversion to the lady herself, PhUip would never consent to give Don John to Mary Stuart. The uncertainty whether Elizabeth would allow Norfolk to have her brought the fickle Duke back to Don Guerau. He explained to the Ambas sador the project of the Council, but he gave him to 1 'En cuyo nombre me dixo el valerse de su ayuda y cobrar su obispo que ella es muy importunada Beyno.' — Don Guerau to Alva, Au- del casamiento del Duque de Nor- gust — . MSS. Simancas. folk, y casi necessitada a hacerlo por H H 2 468 History of England. Chap understand also that if the marriage could be brought _XYn about he would use whatever power he obtained by js69 it, not in the interests of the Reformation, as he August „ had pretended to Murray, but in the interests of the Catholic Church. He desired Don Guerau to consult Philip and try to obtain his approval. Evi dently, also, with Don Guerau's help he wished to recover the support of the Catholics, that if he failed to obtain his end in one way he might fall back upon the other. He carried Arundel with him, and Arundel and Norfolk, besides their feudal command of the entire Eastern Counties, were the natural chiefs to whom the great English famihes south of the Trent all looked for leadership. Don Guerau, knowing Nor folk's temper, believed seriously that he was the most desirable husband for Mary Stuart which Spanish or Catholic interests could desire. He recommended Philip to sanction the marriage.1 He laboured to reconcile the Northern lords to the prospect of it.2 He commended their zeal, advised them to hold them selves in readiness to rise if an insurrection should prove necessary, and encouraged them with all but direct promises of assistance from Alva. If the Queen could be so far blinded as to aUow the marriage to 1 'Pienso que esmejorquesehaga herself in marriage with the Duke, con voluntad de V. Md que no se for that he was counted to be a podra sacar dello a mi parescer sino Protestant ; and if she ever looked to gran fruto.' — Don -Guerau to Philip, recover her estate it must be by August 27. MSS. Simancas. advancing and maintaining the Ca- 2 They consented with great re- tholic faith, for there ought to be no luctance. The Queen of Scots sent halting in those matters ; and if the John Leveson to consult the Earl of Duke was a sound Catholic, I would Northumberland. ' I opened my be as glad of that match as any opinion unto him,' the Earl said other.' — Confession of the Earl of afterwards; 'how much it was Northumberland, June 1572. MSS. misliked, not only with me but with Border. sundry others, that she should bestow The Reign of Elizabeth. 469 take place, they would obtain all that they desired Chap without being obliged to fight for it. If she proved too wary to be caught, they could fall back upon force August at the last moment, and with the added strength from the adhesion of the Duke, they could make their suc cess a certainty. It was fortunate for Ehzabeth that to this conspi racy the failure of the Hamburgh expedition had not to be added. Half a year's produce of the Enghsh looms had been consigned to that one adventure, and had Alva intercepted the fleet, or had the market proved unfavourable, the effect might have been as serious as Don Guerau anticipated. Happily, however, success had waited upon the attempt both by land and sea. Not a saU was missing of the flight of white-winged traders which swept through the North Sea. Not a bale of goods was left unsold, so many eager buyers had been set upon the watch by Kil legrew. The ruin of trade at least the great citi zens of London saw no reason to anticipate. They might pillage Spain with impunity and seU their wares at a profit trebled and quadrupled by the ruin in which Alva had involved the industry of the unhappy Netherlands. The poUtical danger CecU thoroughly comprehended in its general bearings; though unaware of Norfolk's treachery, he understood his character too well not to suspect him. The musters were caUed out in the Southwestern and Midland Counties, and the officers were chosen from among those who were best affected to the Queen. As to the marriage, the genuine Protes tants were instinctively opposed to it. The Earl of Hun tingdon held meetings at his house to concert measures to prevent an alliance which they felt would be ruinous 470 History of England. chap to them. Lord Hunsdon opposed it urgently by letters.1 XVI Bedford and Bacon were of the same opinion ; while Clin- li^Lt ton an(* Sir Francis Knollys cautioned Norfolk himself against Spanish friendship. Doctor Samson, whom Don Guerau called ' the most pernicious heretic in England,' addressed the Duke ' as if he was an apostle of God,' and commanded him to think no more of the Queen of Scots. Sussex, on the other hand, was going with Pembroke and Leicester. They could not yet venture to speak to Elizabeth openly about it, but they approached the subject on many sides indirectly. They harped incessantly upon the danger of keeping the Queen of Scots in England. They told her she must either put her out of the way, which they knew she would not do,2 or send her back to Scotland. Leicester and Norfolk played into each other's hands ; one telling the Queen she was nursing a serpent at her bosom — the other replying that since the serpent was indisputably heir to the crown, she could be rendered harmless only by being married to an Englishman.3 Indisputably heir to the crown — that was the fact from which Elizabeth could not extri cate herself. It would have been easy for her to have said at Hampton Court in the past winter, This woman is a murderess ; I have proof against her in her own hand ; I wiU fall back on my father's will, I wiU appeal to Parhament to help me; she is unfit to reign and shall be no successor of mine. But she had not said 1 ' I think you are not ignorant of 3 ' El Duque le respondio que a el my opinion of that marriage. I love le parecia el derecho de' la Beyna de and honour the Duke so well as I Escocia ser sin question y que tam- would be right sorry it should take bien le pareceria conveniente que la place, for any matter or reason I can Beyna de Escocia se casase en Ingla- yet conclude.' — Hunsdon to CecU, terra para que en esta parte se' re- August 30, MSS. Border. mitiria al parecer de suMag*.' — Don 2 La Mothe Fenelon au Boy, July Guerau to Philip, August 2, MSS, 27. — Dipeches, vol. ii. Simancas. The Reign of Elizabeth. 471 this; she had evaded the plain issue, and now had no fair excuse with which to protect herself, while Mary Stuart was again openly spoken of as standing next for the throne.1 Very angrily she complained that the Lords were setting up Absalom against David. She said she would marry — marry Leicester perhaps to be rid of her vexation,2 or marry the Archduke if he was stiU attainable. StUl the stream ran so violently that on the 27th of August a vote was carried in full Council for the settlement of the succession by the marriage of the Queen of Scots to some English nobleman ; and many Peers, according to Don Guerau ' the greatest in the land,'3 set their hands to a bond to stand by Chap XVII 1569 August 1 ' Esta Beyna entiende como to dos los del Beyno vuelven los ojos a, la de Escocia, y que ya no lo disi- mulan, antes la van mirando 6 casi reputando como sucesora della/ — Don Guerau to PhUip, July 25. 3 Norfolk and Arundel were cheat ing Leicester with the hope that if the Scotch affair could be settled for the Duke, he and the Queen might marry. Don Guerau wrote on the 6th of September : ' Tambien parece que el Conde de Leicester, con espe- ranca que el Duque de Norfolk y sus amigos le han dado de sustentar en el grado que esta, y aun consentir que se case con esta Beyna, hace la parte del dicho Duque.' Compare La Mothe to the King of France, July 27. The old stories were still current about Leicester's intimacy with Elizabeth. La Mothe says that Norfolk, at Arundel's suggestion, remonstrated with Leicester about it. If the Queen wished to marry him, she should say so openly, and the Duke and his friends would countenance it — otherwise, he said, that the Queen's honour would suffer? ' et le taxa de ce qu'ayant l'entre'e comme il a dans la ehambre de la Beyne, lorsqu'elle est au lict il s'es- toit ingere' de luy bailler la chemise au lieu de saee dame d'honneur, et de s'hazarder de luy mesme de la baisser sans y estre convyeV Leicester answered, ' qu'a la verite- la Beyne luy avoit monstre" quelque bonne , affection, que l'avoit mis en esperance de la pouvoir espouser, y d'oser ainsy user de quelque honneste privaulto envers elle.' He said he would endeavour to bring matters to a crisis. If the Queen made up her mind not to marry him he would discontinue so close an intimacy with her. ' Et quoy que ce fist qu'il avoit la mesme obligation a l'honneur de la Beyne et a celle de sa couronne que ung bon vassal et conseiller doibte avoir, et que en toutes sortes il contoit plus soigneusement con- server que sa propre vie.' s ' Los mas principales desta Isla.' — Don Guerau to Philip, August 27. MSS. Simancas. 472 History of England. Chap Norfolk in carrving the resolution into effect. Leonard XVII Dacres and Lord Northumberland had concerted a plan AugMt to cari7 on? tne Queen of Scots from Wingfield. Dacres had seen her and arranged the details with her. Nor folk, however, was so confident of success through the Council that he thought violent measures unnecessary. The Queen of Scots sent to ask him what he would do if Elizabeth refused to let him marry her. He said she dared not refuse, for all the Peers except a very few were determined to have it so.1 He and his friends had delayed their formal applica tion for Elizabeth's consent till the arrival of Maitland ; but of Maitland's coming there was no longer a prospect. Maitland, after the breaking up of the Perth convention, caUed a meeting of Mary Stuart's supporters at Blair Athol ; on his return to Edinburgh he was arrested by Murray on the charge of being an accomplice in Darnley's murder, and was shut up in the castle with Herries and Chatelherault. The vote of Council made further procrastination impossible. Elizabeth was going on progress. Before the Court broke up a meeting was held in the Earl of Pembroke's rooms at Greenwich Palace, and Norfolk proposed that the whole party who were present should wait upon her in a body and make known their wishes.2 In talking to Don Guerau the Duke was ' as a lion ;' at the prospect of facing his mistress he became ' a hare,' 3 and wished to be backed up by the presence of his friends. But the Lords shared his alarms, and neither 1 Confession of the Bishop of Boss, folk, Nov. 10,1571. MSS. Qtteeij — Mttkdin. oe Scots, 2 ' Fearing that the fewer .they 3 ' Mas liebra que leon.'— Address were the greater should be the bur- of the English Catholics to Philip II. den.' — Confession of the Duke of Nor- —MSS. Simancas. The Reign of Elizabeth. 473 of them cared to encounter the wrath which would as- Chap suredly burst upon their heads. Leicester said, ' he thought it not well to have it broken to her Majesty by August a number, because he knew her Majesty's nature did like better to be dealt withal by one or two ; ' he said that he would speak to her himself if Cecil would support him ; but CecU had been absent when the vote was car ried ; he was not at the meeting, and no one knew what part he would take. They separated without a resolu tion. Norfolk was in the Queen's presence afterwards, and tried to say something ; but his heart or his stomach failed him ; ' he fell into an ague, and was fain to get him to bed without his dinner.' x A few days after Ehzabeth moved to Richmond, on her way to Hamp shire. The Duke when he recovered from his ague fol lowed her, and on his way up found Leicester near Kew fishing in the river. Leicester told him that the ice was broken, and he had spoken with the Queen : ' some bab bling women had made her Highness beheve that they had intended to go through the enterprise without making her Majesty privy to it ; ' he had satisfied her that those tales were false and untrue : but what more was to be looked for he was unable to say. Prudence as weU as poUcy would have recommended the Duke at once to follow up the opening. He met Cecil at the palace. CecU advised him to go at once to the Queen and teU her everything. ' That was the best way to satisfy her Majesty and put doubts out of her mind.' 2 When he could not bring himself to the point, Ehzabeth herself made an opportunity for him. After a day had passed and he had said nothing, ' the next morning, as she was walking in the garden, she caUed 1 Confession of the Duke of Norfolk. » Ibid. 474 History of England. Chap him to her and began merrily enquiring what news was abroad.' The Duke said he had heard of none. August ' None! ' she asked again; 'you come from London, and can tell no news of a marriage ? ' He was about to throw himself upon his knees and begin, when Lady Clinton came up with a basket of flowers. The Northern Earls and Don Guerau, and the black conspiracy behind the scenes, came back upon him in the moment of enforced reflection — he shrunk away and was silent. The time was peculiarly favourable. Elizabeth was stUl in the heat of her exasperation at the proceedings of the Scots at Perth, and then, if ever, she might have been tempted to consent. Leicester felt it, and came to the rescue of his friend's timidity. ' One morning ' after wards, the Duke came unawares into the Privy Cham ber ; a child was playing on a lute ; the Queen was sitting on the door-step, with Leicester at her feet pleading the Duke's cause. The Queen, as he told Norfolk afterwards, was on the point of yielding. Leicester rose and went away. She called the Duke into the room, and again waited for him to speak. But again he could not do it ; after a few meaningless remarks he hastened out of her presence, and began to think, after all, that he would let Dacres carry off the Queen of Scots. She was acute enough to understand his difficulty. There was some cause for his hesitation beyond what she or perhaps Leicester knew, and at dinner afterwards ' her Majesty gave him a nip, bidding him take heed to his pillow.' l Yet it seemed at this moment that whatever she sus pected, or whatever obvious objection she saw to the 1 Confession of the Duke of Norfolk. The Reign of Elizabeth. 475 marriage, the pressure would be too heavy for her. In Chap extreme perplexity she went down attended by the Council to Basing House, to stay with the Marquis of September Winchester, and Pembroke, who was watching the fluc tuations of her humour from day to day, sent word on the 3rd of September to Don Guerau that she would be obliged to consent, because there was not a person of those about her who dared to give her different advice.1 The situation, with the humours, passions, and pur poses belonging to it and interwoven with it, is reflected in two letters from the Spanish Ambassador to the Duke of Alva. The guard had been removed from Don Guerau's house, and the conspirators had now free access to him. DON GUERAU TO THE DUKE OE ALVA. 'August 30. ' The Bishop of Ross came to me this morning with a ' letter of credit from the Queen his mistress. He told ' me in her name that in the presence of so general a de- ' sire for her marriage with the Duke of Norfolk, she ' was unable to refuse. The Queen of England had so ' far been unwilling; but in deference to the wishes of ' the Council she had agreed that she must be married ' to some Englishman or other, and when this was once ' done she would be restored to her crown if she had not ' previously been invited back by her subjects. Almost ' all the English nobles, the Bishop says, are of the same 'opinion. The queen has offered to call a general meet- ' ing of the Peers, and take their advice upon the person ' to be chosen. There is an impression, however, that 1 'En esta hora entiendo. del Conde Duque por no haber persona que le de Pembroke que cree que la Beyna aconseje lo contrario. — Don Guerau consentira en el casamiento del to Alva, Sept. 4. MSS. Simancas. 476 History of England.' Chap ' she is seeking delay. She is supposed to have hinted . ' to the Duke that he must not himself think of it. He September ' nas Deen f°r some days at the Court expecting her to ' begin the subject with him, but so far she has said no- ' thing. The Queen of Scots herself is in some fear that ' the Queen of England may be provoked by the favour ' shown her by so many of her subjects to procure some ' mischief to her person. x The Duke therefore, and the ' confederate nobles, have determined to carry her off ' from the place where she is confined, and the Earl of ' Northumberland is to take charge of her in his own ' country. The whole of the North being at that Earl's ' devotion, she wiU be in perfect security, and the Duke ' and his friends meanwhile will quiet matters in Scot- ' land, if the Regent will not consent to an agreement. ' All the arrangements are completed, but the Queen of ' Scots intends to be guided in everything by the King ' our master and by your Excellency, and she teUs me ' that she will not conclude this marriage tiU it has re- ' ceived the approbation of his Majesty. This Queen set ' out yesterday for Basingstoke. If she had not either ' consented to the marriage or agreed to submit the ' question to the nobUity before her departure, the Duke ' intended to leave the Court, retire into the country, ' and take measures to set at liberty the Queen of Scots, ' and accomplish the rest of his purpose.' 2 1 ' Procure^ algundaiio a su persona.' 3 Don Guerau to Alva, Aug. 30. — The Ambassador enclosed a letter from the Queen of Scots to himself, in which she prayed him ' de ma part de faire entendre au Boy vostre Maitre mon bon frere en quel etat sont mes affaires, et nommement de l'asseurer de ma Constance en la religion Catholique, et que non seule- ment — moyennant la grace de Dieu — je demeureray moy mesme con- stante, mais que j'espere de tirer telz a mon opinion, j'entens a la dicte religion Catholique, que pourryent de bea,ucoup servir en ses quartiers pour l'avancement d'icelle.' The Reign of Elizabeth. 477 Chap The Duke had not gone as he had threatened, but he hung about the Queen Uke a ghost, still silent and September irritating her as much as she frightened him. His spies were round her in her closet and her ' privy chamber — not a word dropped from her which he did not hear.. Alarming movements, almost amounting to insurrections, were reported from the Duke's districts in Norfolk and Suffolk : and at times in her impatience she told Cecil she would send for the Spanish Ambas sador, make up her quarrels with Philip, and end her troubles so. Had she done this PhUip was ready at any moment to accept her friendship, order the Catholics into quiet, and leave the Queen of Scots to her fate. On the 6th of September Don Guerau wrote again : — ' The Bishop of Ross has been a second time with me ' bringing a letter from his mistress, in which she ex- ' presses her desire to be of use to his Majesty and to ' the Catholic reUgion. One day it seems as if the Queen ' of England would aUow the marriage ; the next she ' wiU not hear of it. Leicester is said to take the Duke's ' part, the Duke giving him hopes that after the expected ' changes he wUl be aUowed to keep his present position ' and even to marry the Queen. Last Saturday the ' Queen of England was in such alarm that she told ' Leicester emphatically that the marriage between the ' Duke and the Queen of Scots should not be. She said ' that if she consented she would be in the Tower before ' four months were over. Norfolk has been forbidden ' to leave the Court, and she means to speak to him. ' But however it goes, as I have already told your Ex- ' cellency, aU is arranged in the Queen of Scots' favour, ' and if she is once at liberty your Excellency can 478 History of England. Chap ' make your game as you please with one Queen or ' the other.' x September ' With one Queen or the other.' That only was wanting to complete the universal treachery. Norfolk was pretending an anxiety for the Reformation ; and when he had gained the Queen of Scots he was going over to the Catholics. The Queen of Scots was making use of Norfolk ; and when she had obtained her liberty by his means, she intended, if PhUip would encourage her, to leave him in the mire. The astute Spaniard, when he had placed Mary Stuart in a position to be dangerous to Elizabeth, was to play whichever card promised best to his advantage. France already had its eye on her, as a fit match, could she escape, for the Duke of Anjou. The Duke of Alva would have looked on complacently if it compelled Ehzabeth to faU back upon his master.2 From the expression that if Norfolk married the Queen of Scots she would herself within four months be in the Tower, it was clear that Ehzabeth guessed shrewdly at the Duke's real intentions. While in the extreme of perplexity, four days after Pembroke's mes sage to Don Guerau, she heard, by some means or other, the substance of Norfolk's conversation with Murray at Hampton Court. The Duke at the close of the investigation had disclaimed to her, in the most indignant language,- all intentions of forming a connec tion so dishonourable.3 When she discovered that at 1 MSS. Simancas. to marry her being so wicked a 2 ' Es bien verdad que he descu- woman, such a notorious adulteress bierto que este embajador tiene in- and murderess ? I love to sleep upon tencion que si la de Escocia fuese a safe pillow ; and if I should go una vez libre, procurase de casarla about to marry with her, knowing con el Duque deAnjou.' — Don Guerau as I do that she pretendeth a title to to Alva, Sept. +. the present possession of your Ma- s 'Why,' he said, 'should I seek jesty's crown, your Majesty might The Reign of Elizabeth. 479 that very moment he had been intriguing for the Queen Chap of Scots' hand with the Regent, her worst suspicions were confirmed. The Duke had gone for a day or September two to London to arrange matters, as was afterwards known, for the rescue of the Queen of Scots from Wingfield. She sent an order to him to come back to her immediately. He obeyed, and she spoke to him with a sharpness which convinced him at once he had nothing to hope from her. The conditions had thus arisen under which it had been agreed that the Con federates were to take arms. The Duke left the Court without taking leave. He wrote a brief note to Cecil, in which he said he was sorry he had given offence; he trusted the Queen would learn in time to distin guish her true friends,1 and then galloped back to Don Guerau and the Bishop of Ross. By them the signal for the insurrection was to be sent down to the North, while the Duke himself was to call into the field the gentlemen of Norfolk and Suffolk. In the presence of immediate danger, the whole force of EUzabeth's character at once returned to her. She broke off her progress and went back on the spot to Windsor. Knowing weU that if a rebellion was to break out the first move would be to carry off the Queen of Scots, doubting too, and as it seemed with reason, whether at such a moment she could trust the loyalty of Shrewsbury,2 she despatched the Earl of Hunt- justly charge me with seeking your to believe that when the movement own crown from your head.' — Sum- began he would join her friends. On mary of matters wherewith the Duke the 20th of September she wrote to of Norfolk has been charged. Mur- La Mothe: — ' Je ne trouve nulle con- din, p. 180. stance en M. de Cherosbury a ceste 1 Norfolk to Cecil, Sept. 15, from heure en monbesoing pour toutes les Andover. — Bttrshxey Papers, vol. i. belles parolles qu'il m'a donnee au 3 Shrewsbury had led Mary Stuart $asa6.'—Depeches, vol. ii. p. 254. 480 History of England. Chap ingdon, the one nobleman who, as a competitor for XVII the succession, Mary Stuart especially dreaded, with a September commission to take charge of her. The Earl made such .haste that within six days of Norfolk's departure, heed less alike of her threats and her lamentations, he had his prisoner safe again at Tutbury, with half her train left behind at Wingfield, and a garrison in the castle of 500 men.1 Thus she was secure from any sudden enterprise; while with rapid change of note, Sir Henry Carey car ried proposals down to Scotland, not any more for her restoration, but for replacing her in Murray's hands with security merely for her life.2 The Earls of Arundel and Pembroke, Lord Lumley, and Sir N. Throgmorton were served with separate orders to pre sent themselves at Windsor. They did not venture to disobey, and on their arrival they were placed under arrest in their rooms. It was ascertained that Norfolk was still in London, and a pursuivant was sent to command him on his allegiance to return again to the Court. Norfolk's 'ague' had returned upon him. He announced from Howard House that he was confined to his bed, but that he would obey when his health would permit him. He had come up from Andover to Don Guerau fuU of sound and fury. A servant of Lord Northumberland was waiting to carry down the signal for the rising. Norfolk talked about despatching him ; talked about the rescue of the Queen of Scots ; talked while Huntingdon was in the saddle, and then found that he had let the opportunity escape. The northern messenger was fretting to be gone. The Duke said that he must wait to hear first 1 The Earl of Huntingdon to 3 Instructions to Sir H. Carey, Elizabeth, Sept. 21. — MSS. QtrEEisr Sept. 21.— Btjrghlet Papers. oe Scots The Reign of Elizabeth. 481 from his friends. He must know what Montague would Chap do; what Lord Morley would do; what many others would do who had promised to rise at his side. With September their leader in such a humour, they would sit still if they were wise. Never was successful conspirator made of such stuff as Norfolk. Mary Stuart, in spite of Hun^ tingdon, found means to drive a spur into his side. She sent to bid him be a man, and to have no fears for her, for God would care for her.1 Had Mary Stuart been at large and in the field, there would have been a bloodier page in the history of the English Reformation, Had Norfolk stood out himself as Mary Stuart bade him, had he proclaimed himself the champion of her and of the CathoUc faith, the Earl of Surrey's son, the premier nobleman of England, might have roused out of its sleep the spirit of feudal chivalry, and Elizabeth would have encountered a rebeUion to which the Pilgrimage of Grace would have been chUd's play. But it was not in him and it could not come out of him. He had, indeed, committed himself to treason, for he had attempted, in concert with Don Guerau, to send a messenger to the Duke of Alva for assistance.2 But here, too, the Queen had been too quick for him — the ports were closed. He could but shiver into an ague and crawl to bed tUl the pohce came to look for him. In this condition, and unable to resolve whether to submit or to try his fortune by arms, he chose the half course which is always the more dangerous. After a hurried interview with Don Guerau, who grew cold as he 1 ' La Beyna de Escocia envia, a, s ' Por la parte de la dicha Beyna decir al Duque que haga como vakv de Escocia y Duque queria enviar roso, y que de su vida no lieve persona al Duque de Alva, y con cuenta, que Dios la guardara.' — Don estar los puertos cerrados no ha sido Guerau to Philip, Sept. 30 aun possible.' — Ibid, ELIZ. III. I I 482 History of England. Chap saw his feebleness, the Duke sent off to Northumberland XVII to tell him that, having missed the chance of rescuing September the Queen of Scots, he would put her life in peril if he were now to rise. The insurrection, therefore, must at all hazards be postponed. Having assumed the respon sibUity of preventing his friends from moving, he ought then to have taken the consequences upon himself, and to have returned to the Court. But he preferred to take refuge among his own dependents. He beUeved that the Queen would not venture to send for him among a people who would have given their lives had he required them in his defence. He stole out of London and went down to Keninghall, and thence he wrote a letter to her as mean as it was false. ' He grieved to hear that her Majesty was displeased with him,' he said : ' He took God to witness that he had never enter tained a thought against her Highness, her crown or dynasty;' but 'finding cold looks at the Court, and hearing that he was to be sent to the Tower, he feared that he would not be able to show his innocence to her Majesty, and therefore had preferred to withdraw.' 'Thus much I protest to your Majesty,' he dared to say; ' I never dealt in the Queen of Scots' cause further than I declared, nor ever intended to deal otherwise than I might obtain your Highness's favour so to do.'1 The confidence in the Duke's substantial loyalty was. still almost universal.2 Elizabeth knew too much to feel any such assurance. She was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery. She sent an express to 1 Norfolk to Elizabeth, Sept 24, it meant not faithfully to her Ma- from Keninghall. — Bttrghley Pa- jesty nor friendly to the Duke. It pers, vol. i. had been long brewing and there had 3 On the 1 8th of September Huns- been strange dealing, but he did not don wrote to Cecil 'that he was doubt the Duke would show himself right glad her Majesty did so mis- an obedient subject.' — Ibid. like the marriage. "Whoever began The Reign of Elizabeth. 483 Tutbury to say that the Duke having withdrawn to Chap xvii Keninghall, and there being some uncertainty of his meaning, Lord Huntingdon must look well to his September charge, and see that she did not slip through his hands. He might teU the Queen of Scots that no harm was intended towards her ; she would yet receive ' more good than it was thought she had deserved;' but he must examine her coffers and her servants' boxes, and send all the papers that he could find to the Court.1 Mary Stuart had taken the precaution to burn her letters before she left Wingfield, Lord Shrewsbury, for his own sake perhaps, having given her the oppor tunity. The Earl's foUowers were rude chambergrooms, and had not cared before entering the Queen of Scots' apartments to take the pistols out of their belts. She was furious at the insult. She protested, as usual, that she had done nothing to deserve suspicion.2 She stormed at Huntingdon, and said she would make him feel what her credit was in England.3 It was like handling a wild cat in a cage, and the Earl could but pray God to ' assist her Majesty and her Council with the spirit of wisdom and fortitude of mind, which two things were necessarily required, considering the person they had to deal with.' i The search of course had been vain, and so far there was nothing against Norfolk but presumption from his, own conduct. A Queen's messenger followed him to KeninghaU with a command that 'without manner of excuse ' he should return immediately. Had he obeyed, 1 The Queen to Huntingdon, Sept. Huntingdon to Cecil, September 27. z$.—MSS. Queen ov Scots. Bttrghlet Papers, vol. i. 3 'She took grievously our search, 3 Huntingdon to Cecil, Oct. 10. — pleadeth greatly her innocency to Ibid. the Queen's Majesty, of whose deal- * Ibid. ing to her she speaketh bitterly.'— 1 1 2 484 History of England. Chap be would have probablv fared no worse than his com- XVII panions in the Council, and he might have succeeded September after all. ' There is a great change,,' Don Guerau wrote, ' The complaints are loud against Cecil, who has manoeuvred with astonishing skill. I know not what will happen. I can only say that with the party which the Duke commands in the country he can only fail through cowardice.' x The Duke thought so too,. and at Keninghall, where his anterooms were thronged with knights and gentlemen, aU hanging upon his word, his courage came back to him. He refused at first to see the messenger. He said he was too ill to leave his. house. If the Queen would send a member of the Council to him, he would answer her questions where he was. But again after a day or two his heart faded him. A message came to him from Leicester, that he had nothing to fear from submission. If he persisted in disobedience he would be proclaimed a traitor. He would then have to commit his fate to the chances of civil war, and he persuaded himself that he would compromise the Queen of Scots.2 His illness had no existence except in his alarms. The messenger had lingered waiting for his final resolution ; he with drew his answer and made up his mind to return. His friends and servants, clearer-sighted than himself, entreated him not to leave them. They held him by the knees, they clung to his stirrup-leathers as he mounted his horse, crying that he was going to the ' 'No se lo que sucedera. Entiendo 3 ' 0 Como dice por escusar el evi- que segun los amigos que el Duque dente peligro de la de Escocia que tiene en el Beyno no puede perderse esta en poder de sus enemio-os.' Don sino por puBillanimidad.' — Don Gue- Guerau to Philip, Oct. 8. rau to Philip, Sept. 30. Tlie Reign of Elizabeth. 485 scaffold. But his spirits were gone. With a handful Chap XVTT of attendants x he rode back to London, and from thence , he was proceeding to Windsor, when he was met a few 0'et506b9er miles distant by an intimation that he was a prisoner and must remain in charge of Sir Henry NevUle, at Mr. Wentworth's house at Burnham. Elizabeth, who had heard of the attitude which he had assumed in Norfolk, talked of placing him on his trial for treason. But such a chaUenge to the Peers was as yet too perUous an experiment, and CecU's pru dence interposed. He wrote rather than spoke to Elizabeth, because he had things to say which he in tended for herself alone, and his letter remains to show the calm wisdom with which he controUed her passion. ' No true councUlor of her majesty,' he said, ' could be without grief to see the affairs of the Queen of Scots become so troublesome to her;' nevertheless he thought she was more alarmed than the occasion required.' ' The case was not so terrible as her Majesty would have it.' ' The Queen of Scots would always be a dangerous person to her, but there were degrees by which the danger might be made more or less. If she would herself marry, it would diminish; if she remained single, it would increase. If the Queen of Scots was kept a prisoner, it would diminish; if she was at liberty, it would be greater.' ' If the Queen of Scots was manifested to be unable by law to have any other husband than Bothwell while BothweU Uved,' it would diminish ; if she was declared free, it would be greater. If she was declared an offender in the murdering of her husband, she would be less able to be a person perilous ; if her offence was 1 'Dexando los pensamientos de" rompimiento por ahora se vino con pocos caballos.' — Don Guerau to Philip, Oct. 8. 486 History of England. c™^ passed over in sUence, the scar of the wound would wear out.' So much for the Queen of Scots. For the October Duke of Norfolk, and for her Majesty's intentions towards him, she must remember that there were as yet no proofs against him, ' and if he was tried and not convicted, it would not only save but increase his credit.' The Duke's offence, so far as could be seen at present, did not ' come within the compass of treason,' ' and better it were in the beginning to foresee the matter than to attempt it with discredit, not without opinion of evU wUl or malice.' He sent EUzabeth a copy of the statute of Edward III. He recommended that in the enquiry into Norfolk's behaviour the word treason should not be mentioned. ' Better,' he said, half in irony — 'better marry the Duke to somebody. Provide him with a wife and his hopes of the Scotch Queen will pass away.'1 EUzabeth was but half convinced. On the 8th of October an order was made out to Sfr Francis Knollys to take charge of the person of the Duke of Norfolk and conduct him to the Tower.2 He was not prepared for so decisive measures. He had communicated since his arrest with Don Guerau, under the impression that he was too large a person to be rudely handled, and stUl taUting of changing the government and over throwing Cecil. He believed himself to be popular in London. He had persuaded himself that the Queen could not risk the danger of sending him under a guard through the streets. Don Guerau thought that he was mistaken. Though he regarded the heretics as children of hell, he respected 1 Cecil to Elizabeth, Oct. 6, 1569. —Cotton MSS., Calig. C. i. Endorsed, 'My advice to her Ma- 3 Commission to Sir F. Knollys, jesty in the Duke of Norfolk's case. Oct. 8.— MSS. Domestic. The Reign of Elizabeth. 487 their courage, nor did he expect, since the success at Chap Hamburgh, that the city would be disturbed. The Government, to incur no unnecessary risk, sent the October prisoner by water from Windsor. The banks between Westminster and London bridge were lined with crowds, who, according to La Mothe, were vociferous in their expressions of displeasure, but there was no attempt at rescue; and when the Tower gates closed behind the head of the EngUsh nobUity, no party in the country felt less pity for him than those whose fine-laid schemes he had played with and ruined by his cowardice. On the 8th of October Don Guerau wrote to PhUip:— ' The Earls of Northumberland, Westmoreland, Cum- ' berland, and Derby — the whole Catholic body — are ' furious at the timidity which the Duke has shown. ' The Earl of Northumberland's servant who was here a ' whUe ago about this business, has returned to me, and ' I have letters also in cipher from the Bishop of Ross. ' The sum of their message to me is this, that they wUl ' take forcible possession of the Queen of Scots. They ' will then make themselves masters of the northern ' counties, re-establish the Catholic religion, and restore ' to your Majesty whatever prizes taken from your ' Majesty's subjects now in the harbours on these coasts. ' They hope that when the Queen of Scots is free they ' may be supplied with a few harquebusmen from the ' Low Countries. I have referred their request to the 'Duke of Alva.'1 1 MSS. Simancas. CHAPTER XVIII. Chap XVIII 1569 October THE Duke of Norfolk was in the Tower; Pembroke, Arundel, Throgmorton, and Lumley were under arrest at Windsor; Leicester alone of the party about the Court who had been implicated in the marriage intrigue, had run for harbour, when he saw the storm coming, and had escaped imprisonment. But the re velation of so dangerous a temper so close at her own door, however veUed it might be under professions of fidelity, and the sudden breach with half her first advisers, who for ten years had stood loyaUy at her side, had shocked Elizabeth inexpressibly. The com posing language of Cecil faUed to quiet her. So furious was she with Norfolk, that in the intervals of hysterics, she said that, ' law or no law,' ' she would have his head.'1 She was distracted with the sense of dim but fearful perils overshadowing her, which she felt to be near but could not grasp ; and for ever the figure of the prisoner at Tutbury floated ominously in the air, haunting her dreams and perplexing her waking thoughts. The ingenuity with which she had tempted Murray to produce the casket had failed of its purpose. The Peers, as well as the Council, had seen the damning proofs of Mary Stuart's guilt ; not one among them had pretended to beheve her innocent; yet so terrible to the mind of England was the memory of York and 1 ' Allez, diet elle ; ce que les loix rite" le pourra.' — La Mothe au Roy, ne pourront sur sa teste, mon autho- Oct. 28. Dipeches, vol. ii. The Reign of Elizabeth. 489 Lancaster, that, to escape a second war of succession, Chap they were ready to condone the crimes of the second person in the realm ; and one of them, the highest sub- October ject in the land, was wiUing to take the murderess to his bed. It was too late now for EUzabeth to throw herself upon the world's conscience, publish the letters, and declare her rival infamous. The Peers, who for very shame in the past winter, would have been com peUed to consent, would now refuse to set their hands to her condemnation, and a proclamation unsupported by names which would be open to no suspicion, would no longer carry conviction to the people. In August, chafed by the demands of the Court of France, irritated at the ferment at the Court, and at the consciousness that half her present vexations were her own work, through her refusal to marry the Arch duke ; half regretting, now when it was too late, that she had thrown away an opportunity which would have pacified legitimate discontent,1 she was on the point of making a victim of the Earl of Murray, breaking her solemn promise, and forcing back upon him the sovereign whom only she had induced him to accuse. She was now frightened into a recollection of her obligations. She discovered that the matter which had been proposed by her ' was very weighty,' that Murray's answer ' had been with great deliberation conceived, and carried with it much reason.' 2 But the difficulty 1 'If the Queen's Majesty had in doubtful whether upon the hard time married with the Archduke dealings past she may be induced to Charles, wherein you write she now any further talk thereby. God wprk uttereth her disposition, it had been in her heart to do that may be most the better way for her surety. But for her honour and surety.' — Sussex to that matter hath been so handled as Cecil, Oct. 1 1. Cotton MSS., B.M. on the one side it is desperate that 3 Elizabeth to Murray, Oct. 23. — her Majesty will bona, fide intend to MSS. Scotland. marry, and on the other side it is ^ 490 History of England. Chap 0f the Queen of Scots' presence was none the less ICVIII ¦ embarrassing. She could trust no one since the ictober rupture in the Council but Cecil and two or three more. Lord Shrewsbury was suspected for those Catholic tendencies on account of which he had been selected as the Queen of Scots' guardian ; but the sub stitution of Huntingdon, though necessary for her im mediate safety, had been received with strong expres sions of displeasure by the ambassadors of the CathoUc Powers. She had offended a powerful English noble man, and it was to no purpose that she pretended that her motive in making the change had been Lord Shrewsbury's iU health. The Earl demanded as a point of honour, that the prisoner should be restored to his custody;1 and, although the danger of escape was notoriously increased, the Queen could not afford to alienate a tottering loyalty, and with the advice of Huntingdon himself, she consented.2 Again, therefore, there was an anxious consideration of the steps to be taken ; and again, the private papers of Cecil reveal the most secret thoughts of the Court. One short road there was. The past reigns afforded many precedents for the treatment of pretenders to the crown. The Queen ' might do that which in other times kings and princes had done by justice — take the Queen of Scots' life from her ; ' 3 or, if this was too severe a measure, she might keep her in strait prison till her health failed and she died, as poor Catherine Grey had died. But ' her Majesty,' who had shown no 1 Correspondence between Shrews- del Conde de Shrewsbury no siendo bury, Huntingdon, and Cecil, Oct. tan estrecha hay grande comodidad 1569. — MSS. Queen of Scots. de darle libertad.' — Don Guerau to 3 'Han quitadoal Conde de Hunt- Philip, Nov. 20. MSS. Simancas. ingdon de la guarda de la de Escocia s Notes in Cecil's hand, Oct. 1569. queserayagrancomodidad. Laguarda — Cotton MSS. B.M. The Reign of Elizabeth. 491 pity to the innocent wife of Lord Hertford, affected |^T to 'dread the slander to herself and the Realm ;' she — — found ' her disposition was to show clemency, and she October would not by imprisonment or otherwise use that avenge.' There remained therefore three possibUities: either to keep her in England as the unwUling guest of Lord Shrewsbury, prevented from escaping, but with no further restrictions upon her enjoyments and her exercise ; or to let her go to France ; or, finally, to send her back to Scotland as a prisoner. The second could not be thought of. ' It was in France that she did first pretend and publish her title to the Crown of England: she continued in the same mind, and no place could serve her better to pro secute still the same intentions.' In England, unless she was restricted from'aU com munication, she would be the focus of perpetual con spiracy. ' The number of Papists,' in Cecil's judg ment, 'was constantly increasing.' A large party in the State, ' Papists, Protestants, and Neutrals,' were ' inclined from worldly respects,' in consequence of the Queen's refusal to marry, to favour the Scottish title. The conspiracy in the Council had arisen from a craving ' for the certainty of some succession,' and for a union of the island under one sovereign. Every person in the country, who was discontented 'either from matters of reUgion, court neglect, or poverty, or other causes,' would take the side of the Queen of Scots for the mere hope of some change. Her presence in the Realm would be a perpetual temptation. Her person, except as a close prisoner, could not be effec tively secured. She might escape, she might be carried off, or her keepers might be corrupted. The foreign 492 History of England. xvni Courts would never cease to worry the Queen with • requests for her release. She might contract herself October to some Prince who would demand her as his wife, and a refusal to part with her might be construed into an occasion, of war. ' Being in captivity,' she would be increasingly commiserated ; ' her sufferings more lamented than her fault condemned.' ' The casualty of her death by course of nature would be interpreted to the worst.' The Queen's own health 'might be worn away with perpetual anxiety,' and should she die suddenly, with the succession unpro vided for, the consequences could not fail to be most dreadful.1 The arguments, so far, pointed to the replacing Mary Stuart in the condition from which she had escaped in her flight from Lochleven, with this differ ence only, that Murray and Murray's party would be required to give hostages for the security of her life, and for her safe keeping during Elizabeth's pleasure. Yet this measure, too, was not without its objections. If Murray died or was murdered, it was uncertain whether his party would be strong enough to hold her. She might escape as she escaped before. The Catholic Powers would have as many motives as ever for interference, and she herself 'would be the bolder to practise being then in prison, because she would think her life in no danger through the hostages in England.' There would be the same peril of her contracting a marriage abroad; whUe, should her own friends in Scotland gain the upper hand, she would be restored to the government; the Protestant religion would be suppressed, and the two countries relapse into their 1 Notes in Cecil's hand, Oct. 1569. — Cotton MSS., B.M. The Reign of Elizabeth. 493 old hostUity. The great point was to hold her fast, and this could be done more easily in England than in Scotland. The government of the young King could then be firmly estabUshed, and should France or Spain ' attempt anything for her,' while she was in the Queen of England's hands, ' her Majesty might justly, if she was thereto provoked, make an end of the matter by using extremity on her part.' x The reasoning on both sides was so evenly balanced that either CecU's mind wavered, or else his own judgment pointed one way and Elizabeth's wishes the other.2 At last, however, a further suggestion pre sented itself. The root of Elizabeth's difficulties had been, first, her unnecessary interference to prevent the Scots from trying their Queen for the murder, and, Chap XVIII 1569 October 1 Notes in Cecil's hand, Oct 1569. —Cotton MSS., Calig. B.M. In a letter said to have been written by Leicester in 1585 there is a statement that in the autumn of 1 569, in consequence of the discovery of Mary Stuart's intrigues, 'the Great Seal of England was sent down and thought just and meet upon the sudden for her execution.' The letter is printed by Mr. Tytler, History of Scotland, vol. vii. p. 463, and the fact is by him assumed to be true. The records of this year are so com plete, the changing feelings, the per plexities, the hesitations of the go vernment are so copiously revealed in the loose notes of Cecil, that it is hard to understand how a resolution of so much magnitude could have been arrived at without some definite trace of it being discoverable. The contingency of the Queen of Scots' execution was obviously contem plated as not impossible ; but in the absence of other evidence it is more likely either that Leicester, writing sixteen years after, made a mistake in the date, or that an error has crept in through transcribers. The ori ginal of the letter, I believe, is no longer extant. 3 In following Cecil's papers there is always great difficulty in distin guishing his own opinions from the Queen's. Letters in his hand were often written by him merely as Elizabeth's secretary and against his own judgment. They were fre quently accompanied by private com munications from himself, in which he deplored resolutions which he was unable to prevent. In the pre sent instance there are many papers all in the same hand, all writte^ within a few days of each other}" , pointing to different conclusions. 494 History of England. Chap XVIII 1569 secondly, her want of courage in publishing the results of the investigation at Hampton Court. She could no October longer do this herself, but the public disgrace would be equally insured, if the Scots were now allowed to do what before they desired to do, if Mary Stuart was re placed in their hands, and was brought publicly to the bar in her own country.1 It has been already men tioned that Sir H. Carey had been sent down to consult the Regent. This plan it is at least likely that he was secretly instructed to propose. MeanwhUe Cecil set himself to discover whether Norfolk's conduct had further bearings than as yet he knew of. His position was critical in the extreme. Half the Council — the Reactionaries, Conservatives, Moderates, Semi-Catholics, or by whatever name they may be caUed — were in disgrace. Leicester, then as ever useless for any honourable purpose, was a dead weight upon his hands, and he was left alone with those who along with himself were dreaded as the advo'cates of revolution — the Lord Keeper, the Earl of Bedford, Sir Walter Mildmay, Sir Francis Knollys, and Sir Ralph Sadler. These half-dozen men, among whom Bedford alone possessed pretensions to high birth, had to under take the examination of the noblemen who had so lately sat at the same table with them. The first interviews were said to have been sufficiently stormy.2 Pembroke avowed his desire for the Norfolk marriage, and did not shrink in any way from the responsibiUty of having 1 This was certainly thought of, will pluck away that love that all although it does not appear among your other devices will not.' — Do- Cecil's notes. Sir Henry Neville writ- mestic MSS., Rolls House. ing to him on the 4th of October says: 3 'Pasaron entj&jellos muchaspala- ' The trial of the murder must needs bras de passion.' — Don Guerau to be a safety unto the Queen, and such Philip, Oct. 8. MSS. Simancas. * a defacing unto the other as I think The Reign of Elizabeth. 495 advised it. So far as the Lords had acted together, Chap XVIII they had done nothing which could be termed disloyal. Cross-questioning failed to draw anything from them October which incriminated the Queen of Scots,1 and Pembroke both with success and dignity defended the integrity of his own intentions.2 But he said that he was contented to submit to the Queen's pleasure, and it was not Cecil's poUcy to press upon him. None better understood than he how to buUd a bridge for men to retreat over out of a false position. The Bishop of Ross declared that ' he had never dealt with any other except such as had credit with the Queen.3 CecU, who had not yet learned the Bishop's power of lying, let the answer pass. To extract truth from Leslie required sharper handling than words. ConcUiation, except with the two chief offenders, was the order of the day. Traces, though indistinct, had been found of the hand of Ridolfi. He was con fined, rather as a guest than as a prisoner, in the house of Walsingham, and was desired to place in writing as much as he knew of a Catholic conspiracy. But the questions put to him were insignificant and easily evaded. His house was searched without his know ledge, but he had concealed or destroyed all his im- 1 ' La mayor fuerca de la probanca lands, body, and goods, the main- tiraba a culpar la de Escocia, a la tenance of God's true religion now qual descargaron todos como era established by her Majesty, and the justo.' — Don Guerauto PhUip, Oct. 8. conservation of her Majesty's person, MSS. Simancas. quiet, estate, and dignity against all 3 ' In those conferences that I have the attempts — yea, or motioners, of been at of the Queen of Scots' mar- the contrary.' — Pembroke to the riage it is not unknown to you, my Council, Oct. 1569. Lord of Leicester and Mr. Secretary, s Examination of the Bishop of to whose knowledge in this behalf Boss, Oct. 10. — Bt/rghiet Papers, I appeal, with what earnestness I vol. i. have always protested with my life, 496 History of England. °5^ portant papers ; and so little suspicion had the Queen of the nature of the person that she had in her hand, that October when he was released from arrest, she consulted him about the Spanish quarrel, and ' desired his secret opinion' as to the best means of accommodating her differences with Philip.1 Against Norfolk the Queen was still violently angry. Although she had no proof that he had meditated treason, she felt instinctively that she could not trust him. He wrote repeatedly to her, insisting upon his loyalty, and ' taking God to witness he never thought to do anything that might be disagreeable to her good pleasure : ' but fine phrases of this kind had lost their power ; CecU's plan of rendering him harmless by pro viding him with another Duchess was seriously con templated; and it was intimated to him, that at all events he would not leave the Tower till he had given a promise in writing to think no more of the Queen of Scots. The Duke's friends in the Council had abandoned their project sincerely. The Duke himself had no intention whatever of abandoning it. The great Catholic party was stiU entire. The mine which they had dug was still loaded, and the hope of foreign assistance as strong as ever. The Duke still expected that he would reap the fruit of aU this, and least of all would he part with his hope of Mary Stuart. But he desired to re cover his liberty. Lies cost Norfolk nothing. He was ready to say whatever would answer his purpose. He feared only that if he gave the Queen the promise which she demanded from him, Mary Stuart herself might take him at his word, or the Bishop of Ross per haps, in irritation at his. apostasy, might tell secrets 1 Leicester and Cecil to Walsingham, Oct. 7, Oct. 19, Oct. 23.— Do mestic MSS. Th&\R*igk of Elizabeth. 497 which would be dangerous to him if revealed. ' He1 drew. Ciiap xv • in up, therefore, in the;jhj1 buri .(:Could .Norfolk have known the supreme wilUn^iiess with which Mary Stuart had been ready to tiirow; him over, should it suit iherGonvieniehee to do soy he would: have been less ready to he for her. His late imbecility h#d not raised him in her good opinion ; but as he might still be useful, she j flattered him into the continuance1 of his folly; and both : he and: she, ; while they besieged1 Elizabeth with, protestations of thero honesty, fed ¦ in secret upon visions of coming triumph when Alva's lesions would 'land iat Harwich -or- in Scotland, and every Catholic in tjhe island would spring into the field to join them..- KrAir vjiw; ;;s-.-^ -><.\\ •yun.r/ But if either these hopes were to; be realised- btf'their professions successfuUy j maintained^ it was ! necessary to prevent the ¦, Northern J Counties from exploding .intd . JiJO". bill; >' 'One 'great fault ¦! committed. ; -was] like to' lie here while 'I lived; When I should send in my submis- and therefore I desired him $ia£ "he, sion to her 'Majesty, thinking that it would not misHke. thereof,, and that would not long be kept close but go he would 'also wrifJe°td the'Queeh of abroad,- feari^gjthat if.it should fiome0j Scots in that bejialf that I djid it of to' the Bishop's" ears he would, in a necessity ;and not .willingly. I; trust- rage accuse me of my Writings,— to in'g 'in -.worldly ' policy, have sped prevent thp 'samel sent, the;*(5pp59.of j ¦ like a .mired" Horse-^the 'further he if to -him, to spe, Mo^Ijsen^tojrr^uip^tb^/uEl^jhe is, mired,'— her ' Maj esty, say mg that 'necessity" Confession of the Duke of Norfolk. drove me to signify-this-or-else-I-- MSS: Mart Qtteen of Scots. ELIZ. III.;. , y.-tAL rj} ::,- KKjO .bncil -:\\rli ru^Z ' 498 History of England. £*** premature rebellion ; and this might prove less easy than Norfolk wished. For years past — from the day of October her return from France to Holyrood — Mary Stuart had been in correspondence with the gentlemen of York shire and Northumberland. The death of Darnley had cooled their passion for her, but when she came to England she soon ' enchanted ' them again ' by her flexible wit and sugared eloquence.'1 Before Sir Francis Knollys cut short her levees at Carlisle, they had listened in hundreds to her own tale of her wrongs, and besides their rehgion and political predilections for her, they had been set on fire with a chivalrous enthu siasm for the lovely lady who was in the hands of the magicians. When she was removed from Carlisle to Bolton, the gates of Scrope's castle were usually thrown open to the neighbourhood, and the eager knightserrant had free access to her presence. When at times she was thought likely to attempt an escape and the guards were set upon the alert, loyalty, hke love, still found means to penetrate the charmed circle. Every high-spirited young gentleman, whose generosity was stronger than his intelligence, had contrived in some way to catch a glance from her eyes and to hear some soft words from her lips, and from that moment became her slave, body and soul. Conspicuous among these youths were the Nortons, of whom the reader has heard as the intending assassins of the Earl of Murray. The father, Richard Norton, was past middle life at the time of the Pilgrimage of Grace. It may be as sumed with confidence that he was one of the thirty thousand troopers who followed Robert Aske from 1 Notes in Cecil's hand, Oct. 6.— Cotton MSS., Calig. C. The Reign of Elizabeth. 499 Pomfret to Doncaster behind the banner of the Five °HAP Wounds of Christ. Now in his old age, he was still true to the cause. He had been left like a great October many others unmolested in the profession and prac tice of his faith; and he had bred up eleven stout sons and eight daughters, all like himself devoted children of Holy Church. One of these, Christofer, had been among the first to enroU himself a knight of Mary Stuart. His religion had taught him to combine subtlety with courage; and through carelessness, or treachery, or his own address, he had been admitted into Lord Scrope's guard at Bolton Castle. There he was at hand to assist his lady's escape, should escape prove possible ; there he was able to receive messages or carry them ; there to throw the castellan off his guard, he pretended to flirt with her attendants, and twice at least by his own confession, closely as the prisoner was watched, he contrived to hold private communications with her. The scenes which he describes throw sudden and vivid light upon the detaUs of Mary Stuart's confine ment. The rooms occupied by her opened out of the great haU. An antechamber and an apartment beyond it were given up to her servants. Her own bedroom, the third of the series, was at the farther extremity. A plan had been formed to carry her off. Lady Living stone affected to be in love with young Norton, and had pretended to promise him a secret interview in the twUight outside the moat. The Queen was to personate the lady, and she and the cavalier were to fly together. It was necessary that Norton should see Mary Stuart to direct her what she was to do. He was on duty in the hall. By a preconcerted arrangement, K K 2 &9& .AsSfeWfJL '¥ M0knS:i .Cw ^^pageiinlctheajanM'Qato feokolibertie^witEh rone^ 'P&fhe s-=- fi5laidskjW There. n-vtfa[s, s&uqhi ser^mhjg^iltJttferintvuS^ October -nojn:fusi|pn.rf;i]^ keepntheojJeaeyj, m i':~nr \iAj'\r;:- b-j s'lQhe dayy wtettl tiM (Q»eM;i.fPfii Scots; invwintei^Lhad ra jyaxii, iamd ^tejfeetbreljjjote-do.w^SLCoveirfid^.she, iose and wreiits tosthe fire-side^ agi^ imakingjfhaster/to, rhave : the w<6rk finished;, gyiouSonffitltoyit a^teyf boJfe worked jof jit. i the time; she feas warding; of [hirseJfw- j-She okiQ^dr.foi* ;ome' pfnher selrvaiiit&^IwMeh t#aiee.playjrigj 'of S chess. . jhI fli#e'nt, tMitkang all had^dejse-jMeiio noi fblame, I&iwbthati itushduld not :haveo beaome; nle[ tjfccF have; refused to iflb -itjtumy IIuadyj(8crapelstamdin^)ithere,j and many ^entifeAeiaoin the>(jcshambei?p thaltt sawrishe'j spaket not cjto mecig L-rfehink &r Francis isawmofe Aon !bjari; >r:n 'Al .oh oi ojj.y oil-?, tadvf -vul i-yr.h ,->t I-mvi's, Y'uVld ''¦* i-jto^:*™ I>3J'X9or;o'jorj April iS7d.— 2KS& ZWs£bjf> 2 Confession of Christofer Norton, ;,, House. ThUiMeiffi of EtfiaMh. §01 . '¦ 'How full of life is< the^descriptioni! >The < castle ¦ the • dinner, - — - the /'game -at' chessj! '.and:tM.4iMio{i)na;iwith/hel'i sbft nsyes otto'Def amid ikeiksf of; worsted, binding the hahdslandn'beariiof hert captive!' knight. Two' years later --the ftoaplybutli was> under the1 knife; of the:executioner i at 'Tyburnb lino'.) ni And such asriN6nton: Was^ were ajbhroustodiimoKeswiid hungi about iktnfd<.)BushtesiifoT ifchi late Ught of the taper which flickeiediiiiticher/^ijambeir wiattddwsii1 r.-tni im&uli imd bad atnsiht aloihr orIT And now all> these lyouikSfrol^r'flmgibithfogsumnwer of 1569,; lhad : been fed i wtiths; the liippei that their T/dajf JWias , comings iwhem>i eifchefa 1 thes in^blefeoenl ofr; Eteiglarid)Tunited imi Council ! woulablfoxGe /the : Queen; fbxseuTJihert'itiaptive1 firee^'locthey themselves, h!^iglo»iousjbanM)otftd©liUrHreH^ were to burst the waUs of thife ptifeoialaiiKffcfoehr.rhe^'aiwsayi inLtriumph. ¦ :Thdiadhesibnjvo£itheLDufefofi)NbEf6lbd;o their party, coupled ^with'sonae uncertainty Smorig (them,-* selves^ '. had modified <. their original , {^Qgraminiea d j The Duke i having! a; large .party iamohgyjtjh^; ¥*bimt®bte$. they/JUfendedi' to iaay uoihiBg>rab©UMrejk]gi!onr ftill they hadnjulseefft tteiirnchehsxirajniliooeuiljd afford .'it© '/show, itbeii? ddfcrars^-i iTjhoi^rete^lfantihe j»i^i% .s^as^a jbevtiieiiibenafj ti©ni of oMaryr&trtiarrfy; the-'estahfehntoeefr dfrithei.-sueeesV sionf inlher;. favour,; anil t,henrimofealtiofievUiieoutieillor& abfoM rfche fQueeni^ 3 ISiauaigasd i for -nefofeUicM wasdtq-be. ' l-n-oif •>'< 1 <_-.|ivt-.r '+. 1 •<')•? i wh ui 1 i'OneJMfary Sf'ukrt'speciliarities' ' ' pour1 letix&'f—hcMoWM infhng, —a remarkable one in ihosetimes — Oct. 8. was that she seldom went to bed till 3 Confession of the Earl of North- oriei'Ba^^oIfethefhik-Birfgii'j'iriori s v^WnfavHBMd&.Mms.AivS) ' 2 'Car-'*iMaSs ..Protestants: v.simiai .V>Vj'.\fcA\ .WMr -.yxfi xoi yi;I/ 502 History of England. £™T the withdrawal of the Duke of Norfolk from the Court. The Earls of Westmoreland and Northumberland and October Leonard Dacres were then to take the field, whUe Nor folk, Arundel, Montague, Lumley, and the rest of the Confederates were to raise the East and the South.1 Confident in their own strength, confident in the seem ing union of three quarters of the nobility, confident in the provisions which the Spanish Ambassador had made in Alva's name and which Alva intended to observe so far as he might find expedient, they believed that they had but to show themselves in arms, for' all opposition to go down before them. The whole scheme had been thrown into confusion by the irresolution of Norfolk. Leonard Dacres, West- , moreland, old Norton, and a number of gentlemen, were collected at Lord Northumberland's house at Topcliff, waiting for news from London. The Duke, in the short fit of courage which returned to him at Ken inghall, had sent to Northumberland to say ' that he would stand and abide the venture and not go up to the Queen.' 2 They were expecting every moment to hear that the Eastern Counties had risen, when one midnight, at the end of September, they were roused out of their sleep to be told that a messenger had come. It was a servant of Norfolk's. He would not come to the house, but was waiting 'a flight shot from the park wall.' Westmoreland went out to him and came back pre sently to say ' that the Duke, for the brotherly love they bore him, begged them not to stir or he would be in danger of losing his head.' The preparations for the rising were so complete that *• Confession of Thomas Bishop, s Confession of the Earl of North- May 10, 1570. — MSS. Hatfield. umberland. — MSS. Border, The Reign of Elizabeth. 503 there was scarcely a hope that their intentions could Chap XVIII be concealed. Dacres and Northumberland, ' seeing small hopes of success, were desirous to put off the October matter,' but many of the gentlemen being ' hot and earnest,' cursed the Duke and their unlucky connexion with him, and, careless whether he lived or died, ' re solved to stir notwithstanding.' The Lords were obliged to seem to yield. As Norfolk had turned coward, they were no longer tied by other considerations : they could now change their cry; and when Westmoreland enquired what ' the quarrel was to be ? ' there was a general shout, ' for religion.' Lord Westmoreland made an objection curiously characteristic of the times. L Those,' he said, ' that seem to take that quarrel in other countries are counted as rebels, and I will never blot my name, which has been preserved thus long without staining.' 1 ' A scruple ' rose, ' whether by God's law they might wage battle against an anointed Prince, until he or she was lawfully excommunicated by the Head of the Church.' Three priests were present, to whom the question was referred. One, a Doctor Morton, by whom North umberland had been reconciled two years before, said that, as the Queen had refused to receive the Pope's Nuntio, she was excommunicated then and there by her own act. The other two thought direct rebellion unlawful ' until the sentence had been orderly published within the realm.' 2 The Earls might have been pardoned for not an ticipating the weakness of Norfolk ; they were in excusable in not having discovered beforehand the 1 Confession of the Earl of Northumberland. — MSS. Border. 2 Ibid. |>Q4, . i\Hist&r-y\- of) England* ' '• Chap £$nda,tion( , qf, ^Catholic! , opinion/ !t^eojSp1inisi.t Ambassador1 to ascertairibmqrer)eertairily;;what.r they 'were- to A&ik.1 for frojnj, ; Flanders V,, I Sb TOc'tober <¦ ip&ssed'. away5,"- bringing Yith ^v.' aiMiounbedi t to be' coming,1 bearing,' aSjoSheindesiredv^aKComu'missioiiaf from 'Philip'; but tiie' of j (Cfttjo^afl , ¦ , Why [la';- vsoldkw had; 'beea ' dhbse'ri r ' for a diplomatic embassy was a mystery^ winiclto misled alike ^h^,jfio|Uirt^J.nd^the./Catholfics:)lqIn 'reality the Duke of A$frVra,'/[findwl'g anla4Jge-ffaJfepo&rsiJbUi4y'th%wn';up'ob.; 'Miri byf,PhUip,, , tod [ignorant Jkdwi tfawhet; could ' defend u^'biri ti>^ , r^prefeenjiaitioOT <©f fDeirii Guerau f 'and his' friends,' desired; : to hwjs is^mebptofessiojaal'opinibri^ou'^he'^el^ ti^fl [Sjtff rigthcxttf theiQdeenvalnd'the (Milholies?' 'Obajtih' ¦^as,, ^.erifr:o?!erjbtb> n^utiate-^sfartuld r!nygo1iattibn[llpWv;e, possible — with all sincerity. If any dis'turb'aiSeev broke7 0.%%, h§!was;'itoj)a^ai)'-fciniself(bf''ititfc) obtain better terms for; hisomasteii? i; buH'lie)T4'asi'not iritended'itio take' part1 activejlynuhder lariyi circumstances; -'and w-as n¥ef'ely-4o;use' \\ j"(V hav.'fihtuiul, ,'S.U hr,M 'Jill 'lo in M'.lnf'f ' 1 Confession of Oswald Wilkinson. — Mtjkdin. ;im\\ t Th&\Ryigh of ffli&aMth. 505 his eyes in case ulterior, measures! should be [eventually cmap necessary.* A. The heated imagination, of the /Catholics, . however, saw in him the herald of the coming .aririyiiof 0^0b9^ Uberation. The news spread over the kingdom, and the. fire which was beginning to .smoulder shot tagaiiia into a blaze'. '" .The. impression was confirmed"bv the gjreaiti anxiety of the^t Court,, ,, Sixty gentlemen who attended Chapin- from '-Flanders were >* detained at Dover, and ,^e .\va| , allowed to take On "^ith Him, 'no ntore. than- five attendants ; 2; while, owing ...to the sus pension of the more moderate element in the Council, a, step,, was- taken ..whicji,. though' offen, thr^iie^sd,' hafl been hitherto delayed by the influence^ of Pembroke a^cl^rundeL ", The "Act of Un^rmlty' was at'"Ia1st' to be enforced, and i every magistrate in, the ''kingdom, was to be'retiuire'd to'1 subscribe to an obligation to main- I,,,., / -.¦.- !-V ;¦//>-. T , ,,'. In- ¦ ,< I., ,; t ,. °, ., , ' ((, 'I,, [ taini the law; a^d himself to set aii example, of obedience by 'attendance' at church.3 ' ot viiiii.-n.-i >.,-. pU 1.) vriR Iijti'^ -reihi ,/ ,1,nai 1iiThatethenbopesi'lie'ldrjut byDoh ,< Philip was, just then. trpu.bh?,d with ©neratE to th& Gajtholicsiwerel hot as an, insurrect,io;a ,pf the. JVIpors;^ :and yebi*0(Be--&ffiiliedtistpBrfeastly)i6leali[ haying ElandeifS ion,, bis,, h,ands, also, from a letter written by Philip dimrP. was. m^stjftnwij^in.g tpiadd tfth4s,em-, iHg.vtheifautiinm./!:iSpe»kdn'g//ofIthe barrassments-';The English patholjcs prop6sed! imsuirectionl tandr.t&ef men* might rebel, if they pleased.; If they turesof thsCatholicstO'DoniGiueraii^ could overthrow Elizabeth without Phdfip says :'-^tno i{,v.-^ ¦¦¦¦¦ n',nhV'i<\ assignee frpm jhjnis,e;if£,h£,,W|Ou}d ibe <¦. i f No $& puede. ni d«be tratairi ,'dellat v^ry well satisfied, and jjf, vague, prp- hw&af*fe>7 ai'fim"que:tieiueila.-ntegocia)»«i mises held, out hr-his, name encour tiqni'qilk seltraef sobre i restitacion de; raged; them rtP rebel, theiins^rr.eptiqn lo- aiftstadey'-quie' isJ, sucedlen conio feefi would at, lpast . incline ..Elizabeth to pnrertniieyipdmmKFpartefii^ se-fdJejauar come to terms with. Spain, ,,.; .,,, ; de levantar adelante k antigiia amis*. (1 3 Lu JVIothe -to the, King,, Oct,, 8. > tad. .que mis pasados y yo habehtos 3 Eorm to. be .subscribed, by #& tenidO" eon. Psa. corona1 m pero -no- se: magistrates.,, Addressed tp the Lord Haciendjornasi, :nlit vrmf ,-,, menesteriteranail )otro..c^mina^ y vpara- 'Our humble duties remembered tal casoyoui)iIjfflrd8h-ipu''iTh)jfcis' to signify. mefi Jriatts esieni|»reo avis'ftndDi riqmot lo that we whos^i n am es are