The greatest diplomatic game ever played on the world’s chessboard was that consummate3 succession of intrigues4 which for nearly half a century was carried on by Queen Elizabeth and her ministers with the object of playing off one great Continental6 power against another for the benefit of England and Protestantism, with which the interests of the Queen herself were indissolubly bound up. Those who were in the midst of the strife7 were for the most part working for immediate8 aims, and probably understood or cared but little about the ultimate result of their efforts; but we, looking back as over a plain that has been traversed, can see that, from the tangle9 of duplicity which obscured the issue to the actors, there emerged a new era of civilisation10 and a host of young, new, vigorous thoughts of which we still feel the impetus11. We perceive now that modern ideas of liberty and enlightenment are2 the natural outcome of the victory of England in that devious12 and tortuous13 struggle, which engaged for so long some of the keenest intellects, masculine and feminine, which have ever existed in Europe. It seems impossible that the result could have been attained14 excepting under the very peculiar15 combination of circumstances and persons then existing in England. Elizabeth triumphed as much by her weakness as by her strength; her bad qualities were as valuable to her as her good ones. Strong and steadfast16 Cecil would never have held the helm so long if he had not constantly been contrasted with the shifty, greedy, treacherous17 crew of councillors who were for ever ravening18 after foreign bribes20 as payment for their honour and their loyalty21. Without Leicester as a permanent matrimonial possibility to fall back upon, the endless negotiations23 for marriage with foreign princes would soon have become pointless and ineffectual, and the balance would have been lost. But for the follies24 of Mary Stuart, which led to her downfall and lifelong imprisonment25, the Catholic party in England could never have been subjected so easily as it was. Elizabeth, with little fixed26 religious conviction, would, with her characteristic instability, almost certainly at one difficult juncture27 or another have been drawn28 into a recognition of the papal power, and so would have destroyed the nice counterpoise, but for the unexampled fact that such recognition would have upset her own legitimacy29 and right to reign19. The combination of circumstances on the Continent also seems to have been exactly that necessary to aid the result most favourable30 to English interests; and the special personal qualities3 both of Philip II. and Catharine de Medici were as if expressly moulded to contribute to the same end. But propitious31, almost providential, as the circumstances were, the making of England and the establishment of Protestantism as a permanent power in Europe could never have been effected without the supreme32 and sustained statecraft of the Queen and her great minister. The nimble shifting from side to side, the encouragement or discouragement of the French and Flemish Protestants as the policy of the moment dictated33, the alternate flouting34 and flattering of the rival powers, and the agile35 utilisation of the Queen’s sex and feminine love of admiration36 to provoke competing offers for her hand, all exhibit statesmanship as keen as it was unscrupulous. The political methods adopted were perhaps those which met with general acceptance at the time, but the dexterous37 juggling38 through a long course of years with regard to Elizabeth’s marriage is unexampled in the history of government. Not a point was missed. Full advantage was taken of the Queen’s maiden39 state, of her feminine fickleness40, of her solitary41 sovereignty, of her assumed religious uncertainty42, of her accepted beauty, and of the keen competition for her hand. In very many cases neither the wooer nor the wooed was in earnest, and the courtship was merely a polite fiction to cover other objects; but at least on two occasions, if not three, the Queen was very nearly forced by circumstances or her own feelings into a position which would have made her marriage inevitable44. Her caution, however, on each occasion caused her to withdraw in time without mortal offence to the family of her suitor; and to the end of her days she was able, painted old4 harridan45 though she was, to act coquettishly the part of the peerless beauty whose fair hand might possibly reward the devoted46 admiration paid to her, with their tongues in their cheeks, by the bright young gallants who sought her smiles. The story of the various negotiations for the Queen’s marriage has been told in more or less detail in the histories of the times, but no comprehensive view has yet been given of the marriage negotiations alone: nor has their successive relation to other events been set forth49 as a connected narrative50. Within the last few years much new material for such a narrative has become available both in England and on the Continent, and it is now possible to see with a certain amount of clearness the hands of the other players besides that of the English Queen. The approaches made to Elizabeth by the brothers de Valois, or rather by their intriguing51 mother, Catharine de Medici, have been related somewhat fully52, mainly from the documents in the National Library in Paris, by the Count de la Ferrière,1 and the recent publication of the Spanish State Papers at Simancas of the reign of Elizabeth by the Record Office,2 puts us into possession of a vast quantity of hitherto unused material of the highest interest, especially with regard to the matrimonial overtures53 made by Philip II. and the princes of the house of Austria; whilst the full text of the extraordinary private letters to and from the Queen in relation to the Alen?on match, 1579–82, printed by the Historical5 MSS. Commission from the Hatfield Papers, affords an opportunity of the greatest value for criticising the by-play in this curious comedy. From these sources, from the Walsingham Papers from the French diplomatic correspondence, from the Foreign, Domestic, and Venetian Calendars of State Papers, and from the various contemporary and later chroniclers of the times, it is proposed to construct a consecutive54 narrative of most of the important attempts made to persuade the “Virgin Queen” to abandon her much-boasted celibacy55.
In October, 1532, exactly eleven months before the birth of Elizabeth, Henry VIII. paid his pompous56 visit to the French king, accompanied by his privately57 married wife, Anne Boleyn, Marchioness of Pembroke. He had deeply offended the Spanish Emperor by his treatment of Queen Catharine, and felt the need of drawing closer the bonds of union with Francis I., which twelve years before had been tied on the Field of the Cloth of Gold; and almost as soon as the little Princess Elizabeth was born, negotiations were opened for her marriage with the child-prince, Duke of Angoulême, third son of Francis I. Henry asked for too much, as was his wont58. He required the French king and his nobles to make a declaration of approval of the Act of Succession which had been passed in England defying the Pope and settling the crown on the issue of Anne Boleyn. Francis was to press the Pope to revoke59 the anathemas60 that the Church had hurled61 upon the schismatic king, and the little prince was to be brought up in England, holding his dukedom as an independent fief of the French crown. The last two demands might have been complied with,6 as they could subsequently have been revoked62, but the eldest63 son of the Church could never accept the first article, which would have brought him into definite defiance64 of the papacy; and the negotiation22 fell through.
Elizabeth was only three years old when her mother’s fall removed her from the line of the succession, and with the strange vicissitudes65 of her early girlhood we have nothing here to do. When, however, in 1542, the death of James V. of Scotland and the almost simultaneous birth of his daughter Mary seemed to bring nearer to its consummation Henry’s idea of a union of the two crowns, he proposed to marry the baby Queen of Scots to his own infant son and at the same time offered the hand of Elizabeth, who was then nine years old, to the Earl of Arran, head of the house of Hamilton, the next heir to the Scottish crown. The man was nearly an idiot and failed to see the advantages of such a connection, the consequence being that French intrigue5 and French money, backed up by the influence of the Queen Dowager of Scotland, Mary of Lorraine, were victorious66; and Henry was thwarted67 of his desire. The fact that he had been checkmated by the French king in this matter rankled68 in his breast and caused that foolish and profitless war, in alliance with the Emperor, against France, which is principally remembered for the siege and capture and subsequent loss of Boulogne. Charles V. tried very hard to get his cousin, Mary Tudor, Henry’s elder daughter, acknowledged as legitimate69, but although this was not done in so many words, both she and her sister Elizabeth were restored to their respective places in the line of succession; and whilst7 the treaty of alliance between the two sovereigns was under discussion a suggestion was made that Charles’ son, Philip of Spain, then a lad of seventeen, should be betrothed70 to Elizabeth, who was eleven. It was probably never meant to be anything but a compliment, and certainly would not have been seriously entertained by the Emperor, but in any case the suggestion was quietly dropped and Spanish and English interests rapidly drifted apart again. In January, 1547, Henry VIII. died, leaving the succession to his two daughters in tail after his child-son Edward VI. and his heirs. The Queen Dowager, Catharine Parr, immediately married Sir Thomas Seymour, brother of the Protector Somerset, and uncle of the little King. To their care was confided71 Princess Elizabeth, then a girl of fourteen, who resided principally in the Queen’s dower houses at Chelsea and Hanworth, and it was at this critical period of her life that her personal interest in her love affairs may be said to have commenced.
When, subsequent to the death of the Queen Dowager, a short year afterwards, her husband’s ambitious schemes had aroused the jealousy72 of his all-powerful brother, one of the charges made against him was that he had planned to marry the Princess Elizabeth and use her as one of his instruments for obtaining supreme power. The original confessions and declarations of those who were supposed to be concerned with him in the plot, which are still amongst Lord Salisbury’s papers at Hatfield, were published in full many years ago by Haynes, and have more recently been calendared by the Historical MSS. Commission. They have been used by all historians of the times, and there is no8 intention of repeating here fully the oft-told story divulged73 by these curious declarations. It is needless to say that they disclose scandalous treatment of a young and sensitive girl both by Seymour and Catharine Parr, even after allowing for the free manners then prevalent. It is difficult to understand, indeed, what can have been Seymour’s real intention towards the Princess, unless it was the guilty satisfaction of his own passions. His wife was young and healthy, and in the natural course of events might have been expected to live long, so that he could hardly have looked forward to his marriage with Elizabeth; and yet Mrs. Ashley,3 her governess, confessed in the Tower in February, 1549, that Seymour was in the habit of visiting the girl’s bedroom before she was dressed, sometimes by himself and sometimes with his wife, and there indulged in much indelicate and suggestive romping74, in which Catharine Parr herself occasionally took part. Thomas Parry,4 the cofferer, repeats in his confession1 a story told him by Mrs. Ashley which carries the matter somewhat further. “She said the Lord Admiral loved the Lady Elizabeth but too well, and had done so for a good while, and this was the cause that the Queen was jealous of him and Lady Elizabeth. On one occasion the Queen coming suddenly upon them had found him holding the Lady Elizabeth in his arms; upon which she fell out with them both, and this was the cause why the Queen and Lady Elizabeth parted.”
Whatever may have been Seymour’s intentions9 towards Elizabeth during his wife’s life, he left them in no doubt as soon as she died. For a conspirator75, indeed, he was the most open-mouthed person imaginable. By the confessions, early in 1549, of Wightman, Sharington, Dorset, Harrington, and Parry, it would appear that he had openly expressed his discontent with his brother’s supremacy76 and made no secret of his pretensions77 to the guardianship78 of the young King and the hand of Elizabeth. His accomplice79, Sharington, master of the Bristol mint, was coining testoons out of the national treasure, and hoarding80 vast sums of coin for his use; noblemen were advised by him to retire to their estates and raise forces to support him; and the seizure81 of himself and his friends was a mere43 movement of self-defence on the part of the Protector. With regard to the match with Elizabeth, Parry appears to have been the first person approached directly. He was closely attached to the person of the Princess, and had been sent to Seymour ostensibly to ask for the use of Durham Place as a temporary town residence for her. Seymour said this could not be, as the house was to be made into a mint, but she could have his own house to stay in until she could see the King. Parry confesses that Seymour asked him many questions about Elizabeth’s pecuniary82 means; and when he got back to Hatfield the cofferer asked the young Princess whether she would be willing to accept Seymour for a husband if the Council were agreeable. She asked Parry sharply who told him to put such a question to her, to which he answered that “nobody had done so, but he thought he perceived by Seymour’s inquiries83 that he was given10 that way.” “She said that she could not tell her mind therein.”5
When the Master of the Household and Denny suddenly arrived at Hatfield to interrogate84 the household as to their communications with Seymour Parry quite lost his head, “went to his own chamber85 and said to his wife, 'I would I had never been born, for I am undone,’ and wrung86 his hands, cast away his chain from his neck and his rings from his fingers.”
Elizabeth’s profound diplomacy87 and quick intelligence were shown even thus early at this critical juncture. Sir Robert Tyrwhitt and his wife were sent by the Protector to worm out of her all she knew of the plot. Threats, cajolery, forged letters and invented confessions, were all tried upon her in vain. She would tell nothing of importance. “She hath,” says Tyrwhitt, “a very good wit and nothing is gotten of her but by great policy.” She bitterly resented the imprisonment of her governess, Mrs. Ashley, and the substitution of Lady Tyrwhitt; and said that she had not so behaved that they need put more mistresses upon her; wept all night and sulked all day, but withal was too much for Tyrwhitt, who avowed88 that “if he had to say his fantasy he thinks it more meet she should have two governesses than one.”
The confessions of Parry and Ashley with regard to Elizabeth’s conduct, and their own, are bad enough; but they probably kept back far more than they told, for on Elizabeth’s succession, and for the rest of their lives, they were treated with marked11 favour: Parry was knighted and made Treasurer89 of the Household, and on Mrs. Ashley’s death in July, 1565, the Queen visited her in person and mourned her with great grief. It is probable that the inexperienced girl was really in love with the handsome, showy Seymour; but how far their relations went will most likely never now be known. She indignantly wrote to the Protector complaining of the slanders90 that were current about her, to the effect that she was with child by the Lord Admiral and demanded to be allowed to come to Court and “show herself as she was”; but virtuous91 indignation, real and assumed, was always one of her favourite weapons. Tyrwhitt said he believed a secret compact had been entered into between her and Ashley and Parry never to confess during their lives. “They all sing one song and she hath set the note for them.”
After this dangerous escapade and the execution of Seymour, Elizabeth became almost ostentatiously saintly and straitlaced, until the accession of her sister made her the heiress presumptive to the crown and the hope of the Protestant party, now that Northumberland’s nominees92 had been disposed of. Even before this event, the reforming party in England were anxious to further strengthen themselves by allying her to a foreign prince of Protestant leanings, not powerful enough to force her claims to the crown upon them, but of sufficient weight to give them moral support, whilst removing her from the way in England. As early as August, 1551, Northumberland (or, as he was then, the Earl of Warwick) had put his agents upon the alert on the Continent to find a suitable match for her, and12 one of them, Sir Anthony Guidotti,6 says that the Duke of Guise93 had suggested the Duke of Ferrara’s son, “who was one of the goodliest young men of all Italy.” The youth was a son of that Renée of France, Duchess of Ferrara, who vied with her kinswoman, Jeanne d’Albret, in her attachment94 to the reformed faith, but Northumberland would hardly accept the recommendation of the Guises95 as disinterested96; and the matter went no further. The same agent suggests that the son of the Duke of Florence (Medici) who was then only eleven years old might do, and “if this party were liked it were an easy matter to be concluded without any excessive dote.” This was less likely to please even than the previous proposal, and nothing was done; but the Ferrara family were apparently97 anxious for the connection, and early in 1553 Sir Richard Morysine,7 the English envoy98 in Antwerp, wrote to the Council reporting that Francesco d’Este, the brother of the Duke of Ferrara, had approached him on the matter and had asked for a description of the Princess. Morysine replied that “If God had made her Grace a poor man’s daughter he did not know of a prince that might not think himself happy to be the husband of such a lady,” and added that d’Este was of the same opinion “at present.” A much more likely match had been privately suggested to Cecil by Morysine shortly before this.8 “Hans Frederick’s (of Saxony) second son, who is the goodlier gentleman, would, if he durst, bear a great affection towards the Lady Elizabeth’s grace. The land in Germany is divided, and as much comes to13 the second son as to the eldest, which eldest is thought to be of no long life. Were Dukes Maurice and Frederick to die their lands go to Hans Frederick’s sons.” But the collapse99 of Northumberland and the accession of Mary entirely100 changed Elizabeth’s prospects101, so that her marriage had to be considered in conjunction with Mary’s own, and the capture of the Queen by the Spanish interest made it desirable to secure her sister if possible for the same side. In the autumn of 1553, Simon Renard had suggested to Mary a marriage between herself and Prince Philip. She herself was in grave doubt at that time and afterwards as to its wisdom or practicability. Young Courtney had been designated by the public voice as the most fitting consort102 for her; and although the romantic theories of many historians as to her supposed attachment to him are unsupported by a single shred103 of evidence, it is certain that for a time she seriously contemplated104 the wisdom of conciliating English feeling by marrying the man who was one of her first competitors for the possession of the throne. Gradually, however, Renard, with his logical persuasiveness105, convinced her that she would acquire more strength by an alliance with the only son of the Emperor than by a marriage “with one of her own vassals106, without credit, power, or assistance, who has seen and knows nothing of the world, having been reared in servitude and never left England.”9
Renard presented the Emperor’s formal offer of his son’s hand to the Queen on the 6th of October, and after some hesitation107 she asked him to put upon paper his arguments in favour of the match. He14 did so in a long paper dated the 11th, which will be found in the Renard Correspondence transcripts108 in the Record Office. In it he tells her that she is surrounded by dangers against which only a powerful marriage can protect her. She has, he says, four sets of enemies: namely, the heretics and schismatics, the rebels and friends of Northumberland, the powers of France and Scotland, and Madam Elizabeth, who would never cease to trouble and threaten her. Mary replied that she knew all about the French intrigues, and was certain to be kept well informed of approaches made by the French ambassador Noailles to Elizabeth and Courtney. In conversation with Renard afterwards she told him, and he faithfully transmitted the conversation to his master,10 that she had had a long talk with Courtney three days before at the instance of his mother, and he had told her in all simplicity109 that an English lord had suggested to him that he should marry Elizabeth, since he could not now hope to obtain the Queen. If he took the Princess either he or his heirs might hope to succeed to the throne as the Queen was getting old. The idea seems to have originated with Lord Paget, who was doubtless the lord referred to by Courtney, and who thought to stand well with all parties in future by the device. As he was the principal supporter in the Privy110 Council of the Spanish match, Renard could not at first openly veto the suggestion. Mary consulted Renard upon the subject, and told him that Courtney had said that his own thought was only to “marry a simple lady rather than Elizabeth who15 was too proud a heretic and of a doubtful race on her mother’s side.” The imperial ambassador replied that such a marriage would have to be very deeply weighed and discussed,11 and so politely shelved the question. On the other hand, the idea was zealously111 promoted by Noailles, who, Courtney asserted some months afterwards, pressed him warmly to marry Elizabeth,12 and it was considered even by the strongest Spanish partisans112 in the Council to be a happy combination which would conjure113 away all dangers. How far Elizabeth herself was a consenting party it is difficult to say, but Noailles, who was in the heart of the intrigue, writes to his king on the 14th of December that it depends entirely on Courtney whether she married him and joined him in Devonshire to raise the flag of revolt. “But the trouble,” he says, “is that Courtney is so alarmed and timid that he dares nothing.” So Courtney disappears promptly114 from the scene where soon such rough work was to be undertaken. Even before the arrival of Egmont in the winter of 1553 to offer formally Philip’s hand to Mary, the Council was mainly opposed to the match. Paget was first bought over with a large sum of money, then Gardiner, Courtney’s greatest friend, was reluctantly won with the promise of a cardinal’s hat, and others by similar means; but the self-seeking Earl of Arundel immediately saw how his own interests might be benefited by the Spanish match. De Noailles says that he knew that at the Queen’s age, and with her health, every month’s delay decreased the probability of her having issue; and he, therefore,16 warmly supported the marriage with Philip, which could not be rapidly effected, in order to marry his young son to Elizabeth, and so, practically, get the reversion to the crown. The matter never seems to have got beyond a suggestion; and the youth soon after dying, Arundel, as will be told, subsequently became a suitor himself. But whilst these nebulous speculations115 with regard to Elizabeth’s hand were going on, Renard had been arranging a clever scheme by which the Spanish party should ensure to themselves the control of England not only during the Queen’s life but after her death. When Egmont and his splendid embassy arrived all England was in a whirlwind of panic and indignation at the idea of a Spanish match. Elizabeth had retired116 to Woodstock, ostensibly on friendly terms with the Queen, but deeply wounded at her contemptuous treatment, and at the equivocal position she occupied, now that the divorce pronounced by Cranmer of Henry VIII. and Catharine of Aragon had been quashed, and Elizabeth consequently bastardised. Egmont was instructed to point out to the Queen that all might be pleasantly settled by marrying her sister to the gallant48 young Emmanuel Philibert, Duke of Savoy, the son of the Emperor’s sister, and consequently first cousin to Philip. His patrimonial118 states, all but a mere shred of them in the valley of Aosta, had been occupied by the French in the course of the war, and the prince was fighting like a hero in the Emperor’s army. But his blood was the bluest of any in Europe, and before he could marry Elizabeth she must be legitimised and placed in the order of the succession, without which the throne would probably pass on Mary’s17 death to the French candidate, Mary of Scotland. This was gall47 and wormwood to Mary Tudor. They could not both be legitimate. If the grounds for the divorce of Queen Catharine were good she was never Henry’s lawful119 wife, and her daughter had no right to the crown. If they were bad, then Elizabeth was necessarily the bastard117 that the law of England inferentially had just declared her to be. The King of France, foiled in his attempts to prevent the Queen’s Spanish marriage, instructed de Noailles13 to use every possible means to hinder a match between Elizabeth and Savoy, “poor and dispossessed as he is”; and, alert as the ambassador was, no great effort on his part was needed. The Queen, bitterly jealous of her sister, who she knew was more or less openly working with the Carews, the Courtneys, the Wyatts and others to undermine her throne, peremptorily120 refused to rehabilitate121 Elizabeth’s birth. Then came the Wyatt rebellion and Elizabeth’s imprisonment. In after years both Philip and Elizabeth often referred to the fact that at one juncture he had saved her life, and it is highly probable that the Princess was released from the Tower in May, 1554 on the recommendation of Renard, made in the name of the coming bridegroom of the Queen. De Noailles writes that she was to go to Richmond from the Tower, and was there to receive two gentlemen from the Emperor who were to sound her as to a marriage with Emmanuel of Savoy. If she refused the match she was to be taken to Woodstock under guard, again a prisoner. De Noailles knew that the best way of preventing such a match was to arouse the Queen’s18 suspicion that Elizabeth was plotting with the French. So with devilish ingenuity122 he sent a man with a present of apples to the Princess to meet her on her arrival at Richmond. The man was seized and searched to the skin, and no letters were found, but to de Noailles’ undisguised glee the Princess was hurried off at once to Woodstock without seeing the Emperor’s envoys123. Again by Philip’s intercession Elizabeth was released, and invited to be present at the Queen’s entry into London after her marriage. Philip had been anxious that his favourite cousin of Savoy should have come to England for the ceremony, but Emmanuel was in the midst of war in an important command, his own oppressed people, the prey124 of a ruthless invader125, were imploring126 him, their prince, to come and rescue them; he was desperately127 short of money, and his visit to England had to be deferred128. Soon after the wedding he sent a confidential129 envoy named Langosco to pave the way for his coming, and subsequently (December, 1554) the Prince himself arrived. Elizabeth’s town house, Somerset House, was placed at his disposal, and he was made as welcome as his cousin could make him. Philip tried his hardest to get him into the good graces of the Queen. She was kindly130 and sympathetic; gave him the Garter, and went so far to please Philip as once more to liberate131 Elizabeth at his urgent request, but she would not let the Princess and her suitor meet. Emmanuel’s thoughts, moreover, were elsewhere. An unsuccessful attempt was being made to patch up a peace between Spain and France, and the young Prince’s one idea was to get his patrimonial Piedmont restored to him in the scramble132. So he had to hurry back again to19 Flanders with nothing done about the marriage. The idea was not dropped, however. Renard gave wise advice to Philip in his constant letters. He told him, amongst other things, that now that the Queen’s hopes of progeny133 had proved illusive134 the only way to prevent England from slipping through their fingers was to get command of Elizabeth. “You cannot,” he said, “change the succession as laid down in King Henry’s will without causing a rebellion. Marry Elizabeth to the Duke of Savoy, it will please the English and be popular, provided that her right to the succession be not interfered135 with; and it might be a means towards expelling the French from Piedmont.” Philip’s agents found plenty of opportunities for trying to ingratiate themselves with the Princess, but she was cool and cautious; professed136 that she had no desire to marry, and so forth. She was quite aware of the reason for the Spanish desire that she should marry Savoy, and even thus early began her great policy of keeping people friendly by deferring137 their hopes. As the clouds gathered ever darker over the miserable138 Mary in the last sad months of her life, and Elizabeth’s star rose, suitors became more plentiful139. At the beginning of 1558 Philip had sent haughty140 Feria as his ambassador to his wife to drive her into providing men and money to help him in his war against France. Calais and Guisnes had just been lost to England, and Mary, all her hopes and illusions fled, was fretting141 her heart out in despair. In April an ambassador arrived from the King of Sweden, Gustavus, with letters to the Queen proposing a treaty of commerce between the two countries, and the marriage of his eldest son,20 Eric, with Princess Elizabeth. The ambassador was in no hurry to seek audience of the Queen—her day was already on the wane—but posted down to Hatfield to see the Princess, to whom he delivered a letter from Prince Eric himself. The Queen was overcome with rage at this and with fear that Philip would blame her for refusing his request to restore Elizabeth in blood and marry her to Emmanuel of Savoy, and thus giving rise to this embarrassing Swedish offer. Hearing that Feria was about to send a courier to Flanders, she summoned him, and in a violent passion of tears reproached him with wishing to be beforehand with her in telling the story to her husband. Feria says, “Her Majesty142 has been in great anguish143 about it, but since hearing that Madam Elizabeth gave answer that she had no desire to marry she has become calmer, but is still terribly passionate144 in the matter. One of the reasons why she is so grieved about the miscarriage145 is the fear that your Majesty should press her about Savoy and Madam Elizabeth. Figueroa and I think that the opportunity of the coming of this ambassador, and the illusion about the pregnancy146 should be taken advantage of to do so; but it must not be done at the same time as we press her about raising troops here. In short, I do not think now that she will stand in the way of her sister’s succession if providence147 do not bless your Majesty with children.”14
The Swedish ambassador was to have been openly reproved by the Queen before the whole Court, but the Queen thought better of it, and received him in the presence of Gardiner and the21 Marquis of Winchester only. She dismissed him curtly—almost rudely—and told him that after committing such a breach148 of etiquette149 as to deliver a letter to her sister before presenting his credentials150, he had better go home and never come back to England with such a message as that again. Before Feria left England to see his master in July, 1558, he visited Elizabeth at Hatfield, and did his best to persuade her that she had all Philip’s sympathy, and that her safe course would be to adhere to the Spanish connection. He was no match for her in diplomacy even then, and got nothing but smiles and genial151 generalities. In November Mary was dying, and Dassonleville, the Flemish agent, wrote to the King begging him to send Feria back again to forward Spanish interests, “as the common people are so full of projects for marrying Madam Elizabeth to the Earl of Arundel or some one else.” On the 8th of November a committee of the Council went to Hatfield to see Elizabeth and deliver to her the dying Queen’s message, begging her “when she should be Queen to maintain the Catholic Church and pay her (Mary’s) debts.” Elizabeth would pledge herself to nothing. She knew now that she must succeed, with or without Mary’s good-will, and she meant to have a free hand. Before the Queen died even, Feria, who had arrived when she was already almost unconscious, hastened to Hatfield to see the coming Queen. So long as he confined himself to courteous152 commonplace she answered him in the same spirit, but as soon as he began to patronise her and hint that she owed her coming crown to the intervention153 and support of Philip, she stopped him at once, and said that she would owe it only to22 her people. She was equally firm and queenly when Feria thus early hinted at her marriage with her Spanish brother-in-law before the breath was out of Mary’s body, and showed a firm determination to hold her own and resist all attempts to place her under the tutelage of Philip. A week afterwards the Queen died, and then began the keen contest of wits around the matrimonial possibilities of Elizabeth, which ended in the making of modern England.
The first letter that Feria wrote to Philip after the new Queen’s accession indicated how powerless had been all his blandishments to pledge Elizabeth. “The new Queen and her people,” he says, “hold themselves free from your Majesty, and will listen to any ambassadors who may come to treat of marriage. Your Majesty understands better than I how important it is that this affair should go through your hands, which ... will be difficult except with great negotiation and money. I wish, therefore, your Majesty to keep in view all the steps to be taken on your behalf; one of them being that the Emperor should not send any ambassador here to treat of this, for it would be inconvenient154 enough for Ferdinand to marry here even if he took the titbit from your Majesty’s hand, but very much worse if it were arranged in any other way. For the present, I know for certain they will not hear the name of the Duke of Savoy mentioned, as they fear he will want to recover his estates with English forces, and will keep them constantly at war. I am very pleased to see that the nobles are beginning to open their eyes to the fact that it will not do to marry this woman in the country itself.... The more I think over this business the more certain I am that everything23 depends upon the husband this woman may take. If he be a suitable one, religious matters will go on well, and the kingdom will remain friendly with your Majesty, but if not it will all be spoilt. If she decide to marry out of the country she will at once fix her eyes on your Majesty, although some of them here are sure to pitch upon the Archduke Ferdinand.”15 Feria was wrong in his estimate of Elizabeth’s character. From the first she had determined155 to be a popular sovereign, and all observers remarked her almost undignified anxiety to catch the cheers of the crowd. She knew that the most unpopular step she could take would be one that bound her interests to Spain, and particularly a marriage with Philip. A French marriage was impossible, for the heir to the crown of France was married to Mary Stuart, whose legal right to the English throne was undoubtedly156 stronger than that of Elizabeth herself.
So the Englishmen began to pluck up heart and to think that the great prize might fall to one of them. Early in December the Earl of Arundel came over from Flanders, and Feria remarks in one of his letters that he had seen him at the palace, “looking very smart and clean, and they say he carries his thoughts very high.” He was a widower157 of mature age, foppish158 and foolish, but, with the exception of his son-in-law, the Duke of Norfolk, the only English noble whose position and descent were such as to enable him without impropriety to aspire159 to mate with royalty160, and for a short time after his arrival he was certainly looked upon by the populace as the most likely husband for the young Queen.
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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2
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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consummate
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| adj.完美的；v.成婚；使完美 [反]baffle | |
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4
intrigues
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| n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 )；神秘气氛；引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 )；激起…的好奇心 | |
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5
intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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continental
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| adj.大陆的，大陆性的，欧洲大陆的 | |
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strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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tangle
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| n.纠缠；缠结；混乱；v.(使)缠绕；变乱 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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devious
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| adj.不坦率的，狡猾的；迂回的，曲折的 | |
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tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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15
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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17
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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18
ravening
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| a.贪婪而饥饿的 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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20
bribes
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| n.贿赂( bribe的名词复数 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂v.贿赂( bribe的第三人称单数 )；向（某人）行贿，贿赂 | |
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21
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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22
negotiation
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| n.谈判，协商 | |
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23
negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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24
follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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25
imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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28
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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legitimacy
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| n.合法，正当 | |
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30
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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31
propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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32
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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33
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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34
flouting
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| v.藐视，轻视( flout的现在分词 ) | |
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35
agile
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| adj.敏捷的，灵活的 | |
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36
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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37
dexterous
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| adj.灵敏的；灵巧的 | |
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38
juggling
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| n. 欺骗, 杂耍(=jugglery) adj. 欺骗的, 欺诈的 动词juggle的现在分词 | |
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39
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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40
fickleness
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| n.易变；无常；浮躁；变化无常 | |
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41
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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42
uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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43
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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44
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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45
harridan
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| n.恶妇；丑老大婆 | |
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46
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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47
gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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48
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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49
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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50
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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51
intriguing
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| adj.有趣的；迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词)；激起…的好奇心 | |
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52
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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53
overtures
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| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
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54
consecutive
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| adj.连续的，联贯的，始终一贯的 | |
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55
celibacy
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| n.独身(主义) | |
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56
pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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57
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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58
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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59
revoke
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| v.废除，取消，撤回 | |
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60
anathemas
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| n.（天主教的）革出教门( anathema的名词复数 )；诅咒；令人极其讨厌的事；被基督教诅咒的人或事 | |
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61
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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62
revoked
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| adj.[法]取消的v.撤销，取消，废除( revoke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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64
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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65
vicissitudes
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| n.变迁，世事变化；变迁兴衰( vicissitude的名词复数 )；盛衰兴废 | |
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66
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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67
thwarted
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| 阻挠( thwart的过去式和过去分词 )； 使受挫折； 挫败； 横过 | |
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68
rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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69
legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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70
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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71
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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72
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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73
divulged
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| v.吐露，泄露( divulge的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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74
romping
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| adj.嬉戏喧闹的，乱蹦乱闹的v.嬉笑玩闹( romp的现在分词 )；（尤指在赛跑或竞选等中）轻易获胜 | |
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75
conspirator
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| n.阴谋者，谋叛者 | |
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76
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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77
pretensions
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| 自称( pretension的名词复数 )； 自命不凡； 要求； 权力 | |
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78
guardianship
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| n. 监护, 保护, 守护 | |
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79
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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80
hoarding
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| n.贮藏；积蓄；临时围墙；囤积v.积蓄并储藏（某物）( hoard的现在分词 ) | |
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81
seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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82
pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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83
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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84
interrogate
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| vt.讯问，审问，盘问 | |
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85
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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86
wrung
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| 绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 )； 握紧（尤指别人的手）； 把（湿衣服）拧干； 绞掉（水） | |
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87
diplomacy
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| n.外交；外交手腕，交际手腕 | |
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88
avowed
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| adj.公开声明的，承认的v.公开声明，承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
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89
treasurer
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| n.司库，财务主管 | |
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90
slanders
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| 诽谤，诋毁( slander的名词复数 ) | |
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91
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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92
nominees
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| n.被提名者，被任命者( nominee的名词复数 ) | |
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93
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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94
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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95
guises
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| n.外观，伪装( guise的名词复数 )v.外观，伪装( guise的第三人称单数 ) | |
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96
disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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97
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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98
envoy
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| n.使节，使者，代表，公使 | |
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99
collapse
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| vi.累倒；昏倒；倒塌；塌陷 | |
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100
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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101
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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102
consort
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| v.相伴；结交 | |
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103
shred
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| v.撕成碎片，变成碎片；n.碎布条，细片，些少 | |
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104
contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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105
persuasiveness
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| 说服力 | |
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106
vassals
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| n.奴仆( vassal的名词复数 )；（封建时代）诸侯；从属者；下属 | |
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107
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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108
transcripts
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| n.抄本（ transcript的名词复数 ）；转写本；文字本；副本 | |
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109
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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110
privy
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| adj.私用的；隐密的 | |
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111
zealously
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| adv.热心地；热情地；积极地；狂热地 | |
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112
partisans
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| 游击队员( partisan的名词复数 )； 党人； 党羽； 帮伙 | |
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113
conjure
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| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
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114
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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115
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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116
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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117
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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118
patrimonial
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| adj.祖传的 | |
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119
lawful
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| adj.法律许可的，守法的，合法的 | |
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120
peremptorily
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| adv.紧急地，不容分说地，专横地 | |
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121
rehabilitate
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| vt.改造(罪犯)，修复；vi.复兴，(罪犯)经受改造 | |
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122
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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123
envoys
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| 使节( envoy的名词复数 )； 公使； 谈判代表； 使节身份 | |
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124
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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invader
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| n.侵略者，侵犯者，入侵者 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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liberate
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| v.解放，使获得自由，释出，放出；vt.解放，使获自由 | |
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scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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progeny
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| n.后代，子孙；结果 | |
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illusive
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| adj.迷惑人的，错觉的 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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professed
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| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
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deferring
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| v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的现在分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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plentiful
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| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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majesty
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| n.雄伟，壮丽，庄严，威严；最高权威，王权 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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miscarriage
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| n.失败，未达到预期的结果；流产 | |
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pregnancy
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| n.怀孕，怀孕期 | |
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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credentials
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| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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widower
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| n.鳏夫 | |
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foppish
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| adj.矫饰的，浮华的 | |
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aspire
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| vi.(to，after)渴望，追求，有志于 | |
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royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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