Charles was not greatly disturbed by the manner in which his overtures had been received in England. The English opinion of Spaniards was not less flattering than his and Renard’s of the English. “Your Majesty knows,” wrote the imperial ambassador, “that the temper and self-will of the English are extremely turbulent. They love change and novelty, either because of their insular position, or by reason of their habitual contact with the sea, or because their morals are corrupt. Your Majesty is aware how in times past their kings have been obliged to treat them with rigour, even shedding royal blood, in order to maintain their control over them, for which reason they have acquired the reputation of being cruel tyrants.” He went on to draw a picture of all that a foreign prince must be, if he would hope to gain the good-will of the English people. The affection of the nobility might, he explained, be won by rich banquets and entertainments, by dazzling them with great wealth, by giving them the means of enriching themselves, and by showing them an example of valour, in arms and knighthood. Renard was not far wrong in accusing the people of turbulence. Excited to fever heat by de Noailles’ treachery, they confounded the Queen’s marriage with purely religious questions, and in defiance of all reason, attacked the Catholic religion merely because it was that of Spain. Preachers were insulted in their pulpits; it became unsafe to say Mass in public. The rebellious tone of the Londoners communicated itself to the provinces, especially to the home counties, and to Devonshire, the cradle of the Courtenay family. A circular letter from the Queen to her Council declared, that “certain ill-disposed persons meaning, under the pretence of misliking this marriage to rebel against the Catholic religion, and divine service restored within this our realm, and to take from us their sovereign Lady and Queen that liberty which is not denied to the meanest women in the choice of their husbands, cease not to spread many false, vile and untrue reports of our said cousin and others of that nation”.[369] The opposition of the Commons, gently as it had been expressed, seems to have brought Mary’s uncertainties to an end. That same night, she took the fatal step which was eventually to deprive her of her people’s affection, an affection that had grown with her from her childhood, had been her consolation in days of darkness, and had enabled her to triumph so splendidly over her enemies. A despatch of Renard’s, addressed to the Emperor, and dated the 31st October, describes the dramatic scene in which she pledged herself to marry Philip.