The Great Lord Burghley: A study in Elizabethan statecraft
David Hume · en
Guzman was obliged then to write that he was not at all satisfied with
him. He wished, he said, to please everybody; but was getting very
friendly with the French, who were making much of him. But there was more
even than this. The Queen and Cecil were trying their best to please
the Catholics. The Queen openly and rudely rebuked Dean Nowell at his
sermon on Ash Wednesday for attacking Catholic practices; whilst Cecil
was pushing the Vestments Order to the very verge of safety. Some of
the bishops invited him to a conference, and remonstrated with him on
the severity of the new regulations, which they openly stigmatised as
papistical. He told them sternly that the Queen’s order must be obeyed,
or worse would befall them. The churchmen of the Geneva school railed and
resisted, as far as they might,[210] what they called the Secretary’s
backsliding; whilst Leicester, ever willing to change sides, if he could
only checkmate Cecil, vigorously took the part of the Puritans, and did
his best to hamper the execution of the Vestments Order, and to prevent
the use of the cross on the altars.[211]
In February 1565, De Foix, the French Ambassador, shot the bolt that
had long been forging. He saw Elizabeth in her presence-chamber, and,
after much exaggerated compliment, read a letter of Catharine de Medici,
saying she would be the happiest of mothers if her dearly beloved sister
Queen Elizabeth would marry her son, and become a daughter to her. “She
would find in the young King,” she said, “both bodily and mentally, that
which would please her.” This was very sweet incense to Elizabeth, and
she sentimentally deplored that she was not ten years younger. De Foix
flattered her, and tranquillised her fears that she would be neglected or
abandoned, and the Queen agreed with him to keep the matter secret for
the present, and promised him a speedy reply.[212] As usual, Cecil drew
up for the Queen’s guidance a judicial examination of the advantages and
disadvantages which might be expected from the marriage. He is careful in
this lucid document not to commit himself to an individual opinion,[213]
but the formidable list of objections far outweigh the advantages; and
when the Queen the next day repeated Cecil’s arguments as her own, De
Foix lost patience, hinted that his mistress had been deceived, and would
withdraw the offer.[214] Elizabeth petted the ruffled diplomatist into a
good humour again, and said she would send Cecil to talk the matter over
with him.