Life of Elizabeth I (49 page)

In view of the intelligence he had received about the Ridolfi conspiracy, Burghley advised the Queen that it would be unwise to go on progress as usual, but she would not listen. She even stayed at Norfolk's house at Walden in Essex on 24 August.

Two days later, at a time when it was obvious to most of the conspirators that Ridolfi's invasion plan was unworkable, the game was up for Norfolk when a suspicious courier reported him to the authorities for sending money and letters in cipher to Mary's friends in Scotland. The Queen's reaction was angry, and the Duke was arrested on a charge of high treason on 3 September, being 'quietly brought into the Tower without any trouble' at midnight on the 7th. On the following day, government agents found a bundle of incriminating letters in cipher hidden below the roof tiles of the Charterhouse, Norfolk's London residence.

In the meantime, news had arrived of the murder of the Regent Lennox on 4 September at Stirling Castle, in revenge for his hanging of Archbishop Hamilton. To Elizabeth's relief, he was replaced by her own candidate, the Earl of Mar.

By 11 October, after the Queen had signed an order for his servants to be tortured to make them give evidence, Norfolk had confessed to his part in the plot, although he strenuously denied that he had meant to harm the Queen. Those questioning him concluded that it was his 'foolish devotion to that woman' that had been his motivation. Later, he made a written confession of his crimes.

On 24 October, despite claiming diplomatic immunity, the Bishop of Ross, who had remained in England as Mary's official envoy after her imprisonment, was committed to the Tower, where, threatened with the rack, he revealed all he knew, which was sufficient to bring both 
Mary and Norfolk to the block. He added, for good measure, that Mary was not fit to be a wife, since she had poisoned her first husband, been a party to the murder of the second, and married the murderer hoping he wrould be killed in battle. In Ross's opinion, she would probably have done away with Norfolk too.

'Lord, what a people are these!' exclaimed Dr Wilson, the Bishop's interrogator. 'What a queen, and what an ambassador!'

The Bishop's evidence led to the arrest of several noblemen who were suspected of having been Norfolk's associates, the Earls of Southampton and Arundel and Lords Cobham and Lumley. Arundel tried desperately to clear his name, but failed and spent the rest of his life under a cloud of royal displeasure. Southampton spent more than a year in the Tower. The Spanish ambassador was expelled from the country, but Ridolfi, the perpetrator of the plot, had fled safely abroad, and out of reach of Elizabeth's vengeance.

Elizabeth's attitude towards Mary hardened after the discovery of the Ridolfi Plot, and she ordered her cousin to be kept more securely and closely watched. Never again would she consider restoring Mary to the Scottish throne; on the contrary, she now realised that she could never set her cousin at liberty. She had incontrovertible proof that Mary would stop at nothing to gain her freedom and, if possible, Elizabeth's crown. Bitterly disillusioned, the Queen authorised Burghley to have the Casket Letters published, and herself finally recognised James VI as King of Scots.

When Mary was confronted with evidence incriminating her in the recent plot, all she would say was that she had been attempting to recover her Scottish throne, and those who asserted otherwise 'were false villains and lied in their throats'. She claimed never to have associated with Ridolfi, and had nothing to say of Norfolk, who was Elizabeth's subject and no business of hers.

Charles IX, hitherto Mary's champion, appeared now to be willing to abandon his former sister-in-law to whatever fate was in store for her. 'Alas, the poor fool will never cease until she loses her head. They will put her to death. It is her own fault and folly,' he observed.

This was exactly what Mary feared in the weeks after the plot was uncovered. The first indication of her disgrace came when an order arrived for the dismissal of several members of her household who had been implicated. Mary reacted with indignation to this 'extreme severity', but it served her no purpose.

When, after a while, it seemed that she was to be left unmolested, she had the temerity to write several times to Elizabeth, attempting to excuse herself. No replies were received, so Mary wrote a further letter, 
expressing herself in 'uncomely, passionate, ireful and vindictive speeches'. This provoked a furious response from the Queen, who told Mary to be grateful that she had not been treated more severely and left her in no doubt as to the peril in which she stood.

The implications of the Ridolfi Plot prompted Elizabeth and her government to the stark realisation that an alliance with France, preferably sealed with a marriage, should be concluded as a matter of urgency. The Queen was now ready to make concessions, and did her best to revive the moribund Anjou marriage project by making it known that she would allow the Duke to have mass celebrated in private. 'Her Majesty was never more earnestly bent to the marriage than now,' Burghley wrote.

Walsingham, however, advised against reopening negotiations, since Anjou would 'utterly refuse' the match, even if the Queen granted 'all that he desires'. The Duke now had his sights set on being elected King of Poland, and was also deeply involved with Mademoiselle de Chateauneuf, whom he was loath to leave, although there was talk of him marrying a Polish princess. If the Queen persisted, warned Walsingham, she would almost certainly face a humiliating public rejection.

Elizabeth did not give up. In December, with Burghley's backing, she sent the experienced Sir Thomas Smith to Paris to test the water; if there was no hope of marrying Anjou, then he was to work towards concluding a treaty of friendship and mutual support against the common enemies of both countries. Smith was convinced that a French marriage was necessary to Elizabeth's future security, though he realised that soon she would no longer be a desirable catch: she was not getting any younger, and at thirty-eight was losing her looks and her hair, and had resorted to wearing false hair pieces and wigs. 'The more hairy she is before, the more bald she is behind,' observed Smith to Burghley.

It was soon clear to the ambassador that, despite Anjou's mother pleading with him and weeping 'hot tears', the Duke was no longer interested in Elizabeth or the crown of England: 'Monsieur is here entangled, and has his religion fixed in Mile, de Chateauneuf,' observed Smith wryly. Elizabeth affected to be offended by his behaviour, and with an air of pathos declared that, since her attempts to get a husband had caused her to be so ill-used, she hoped her subjects would understand why she preferred to remain single.

However, two days later, Catherine de' Medici, aware that France still needed Elizabeth's friendship, suggested that the Queen might yet make a French marriage, and offered her youngest son, Hercules- Francis, Duke of Alencon, as a replacement bridegroom. 'Without a 
marriage, she could not see any league or amity being so strong or so lasting,' and Alencon was 'a much less scrupulous fellow' when it came to religious convictions.

Smith understood at once the political advantages of the match, and agreed with Queen Catherine that, if the Queen 'be disposed to marry, I do not see where she shall marry so well. The marriage with this Duke is ten thousand times better than the other.' Alencon was known to be sympathetic towards the Huguenots, and was 'not so obstinate and forward, so papistical and (if I may say so) so foolish and restive like a mule as his brother was. He is the more moderate, the more flexible, and the better fellow.' He was also unlikely ever to ascend the throne of France, so would be able to live in England. Smith, however, professed himself at a loss to understand why, when it came to 'the getting of children', everyone at the French court insisted that Alencon was 'more apt than th'other', and left Elizabeth to draw her own conclusions.

Nevertheless, the Duke was only seventeen, less than half as old as Elizabeth, and his skin was badly marked after two childhood attacks of smallpox. He had been a weak child, and was undersized for his age. His mother proudly pointed out his sprouting beard to Smith, saying that it would cover some of the worst pockmarks, and added that he was 'vigorous and lusty'. Smith himself felt that pockmarks were 'no matter in a man'.

When Elizabeth was told of the proposal, she objected that Alencon was too young and too small. When Burghley insisted that the Duke was of the same height as himself, she retorted, 'Say rather the height of your grandson!' Walsingham, however, optimistic that the religious difficulties would not be insurmountable in this case, persuaded the Queen to press ahead with negotiations, and she agreed. She could never resist the delights of a courtship and anticipated that she could prolong this one indefinitely.

At New Year 1572, Leicester presented the Queen with a bejewelled bracelet in which was set a tiny timepiece - the first known wrist-watch. Yet despite the festivities of the season, the atmosphere at court was tense.

On 16 January 1572, Norfolk was tried before a jury of twenty-six peers in Westminster Hall and found guilty on thirteen counts of high treason, the verdict - as in most Tudor state trials - being a foregone conclusion. Lord Shrewsbury, presiding, wept as he condemned the Duke to hanging, drawing and quartering, the usual penalty for traitors, although, when the condemned was a peer, the sovereign invariably commuted the sentence to decapitation.

Norfolk was returned to his lodging in the Tower, where, watched 
by his guards day and night, he occupied himself by writing farewell letters and exhortations to his children; Elizabeth was graciously pleased to accede to his plea that Lord Burghley, his former friend, be appointed their guardian. When the Queen of Scots was told by Shrewsbury of Norfolk's condemnation, she wept pitifully.

The Duke's execution was set for 21 January, but Elizabeth could not bring herself to sign his death warrant. Not only was he the foremost peer in England, and popular with the people, but he was also her cousin, bound to her by 'nearness of blood'. She put off the moment while the days turned into weeks.

'The Queen's Majesty hath always been a merciful lady', sighed Burghley, 'and by mercy she hath taken more harm than justice, and yet she thinks she is more beloved in doing herself harm. God save her to His honour long among us.'

Early in February, Elizabeth was prevailed upon to sign the warrant, but on the night before the Duke's execution was due to take place, she sent for Burghley and, in great distress, rescinded the order; the spectators who turned up at Tower Hill the next morning had to watch the hangings of two common malefactors instead.

Her councillors could not understand her hesitation. 'God's will be fulfilled and aid Her Majesty to do herself good,' prayed Burghley, while Lord Hunsdon declared, 'The world knows her to be wise, and surely there cannot be a greater point of wisdom than for any to be careful of their own estate, and especially the preservation of their own life. How much more needful it is for Her Majesty to take heed, upon whose life depends the commonwealth, the utter ruin of the whole country, and the utter subversion of religion.'

The matter was left in abeyance during much of March 1572, because the Queen fell seriously ill with gastro-enteritis. Her doctors despaired of her life, and Leicester and Burghley spent three anxious days and nights keeping vigil at her bedside, while Leicester stood deputy for her at a Garter ceremony at which Burghley was admitted to the order. The rivalry between the two men was now no longer so intense: they visited each other socially, exchanged a friendly correspondence, and had established an amicable working relationship. Even though, politically, they were often on opposite sides, they shared a common bond in their devotion to the Queen, their loyalty to the state and the Protestant faith.

When Elizabeth recovered, she made light of her illness, saying it was merely the result of eating bad fish, but for her councillors it had raised once again the grim spectre of the unresolved succession and the knowledge that, if the Queen were to die now, England would be lost to foreign predators who would force Catholicism on its people. With this in mind, they persuaded Elizabeth to agree to summon Parliament 
as a matter of urgency, so that measures could be taken against Mary Stuart.

That month, the octogenarian Earl of Winchester died. His post of Lord High Treasurer was first offered to Leicester, who turned it down on the grounds that he did not have sufficient 'learning and knowledge'. It was therefore given to Burghley, who was doubtless relieved to lay down the onerous burden of the duties of Secretary of State. He was increasingly troubled by gout, and had such a bad attack in April that the Queen, fearing for his life, came hastening to his bedside.

That month, Elizabeth signed another warrant for Norfolk's execution, and again withdrew it. It now seemed possible that the Duke would not suffer the extreme penalty after all.

Public feeling against Mary Stuart was running high, for most of Elizabeth's subjects agreed with Walsingham in believing that 'So long as this devilish woman lives, neither Her Majesty must make account to continue in quiet possession of the crown, nor her faithful servants assure themselves of the safety of their lives.'

When Parliament met on 8 May 1572, the catalogue of Mary's misdeeds was read out to both Houses, who immediately demanded that she be put to death. One MP declared he feared to go to sleep after hearing how the Queen of Scots had murdered Darnley and plunged Scotland into chaos, and insisted that the Queen 'cut off her head and make no more ado about her'. Another member pointed out that 'Warning hath already been given her, and therefore the axe must be the next warning.'