According to Father Parson, Robert was well versed in the black arts, was lustful, greedy, a power-seeking murderer. The devil himself could not have been more evil.
As I read I was inclined to laugh at the absurdities. On the other hand I could see how dangerous this could be in the hands of my enemies. Robert and I were too close for me not to be linked with his villainies.
Old scandals would be revived. People would remember how Amy Robsart died. If I had married Robert, that would have been the end of my reign for the people would have turned against me in the same way that they had turned against Mary Stuart when she married Bothwell, Darnley's murderer. Oh, what a fool she had been! I wondered if she thought as often of me as I did of her. It was inevitable, I supposed, for constantly she was trying to escape from the prisons into which I put her.
Did she ever think how similar our lives had been at that point when I had been so attracted by Robert, and the wife who stood in our way had died? I had seen that as the end of all possibilities for marriage with Robert—only by not marrying him could I completely exonerate myself. For if I refused to marry him when he was free, how could I have connived at the removal of his wife? How different Mary had been. She had married Bothwell almost before Darnley was cold. Foolish, headstrong Mary. And wise Elizabeth.
Now I needed all my wisdom to decide what was to be done about this libelous pamphlet. Ridicule was always a good weapon—perhaps the best if it could be effectively used.
All the same I could not have that pamphlet circulating freely through the country.
I made an Order of Council to forbid the circulation of what had come to be known as Father Parson's Green Coat or Leicester's Commonwealth, and I gave my assurances that to my knowledge the contents of this scurrilous document were false.
Young Philip Sidney—he was now Sir Philip for I had bestowed a knighthood on him—composed a defense of his uncle very beautifully and movingly written in which he said that he was on his father's side of ancient, well-esteemed and well-matched gentry, but his chief honor was to be a Dudley. Dear Philip Sidney! I was always fond of him, partly because of his devotion to his uncle. He was such a good and clever young man, and surely he could not have been so devoted to one who was unworthy. It did me good to see the affection between him and Robert.
However, nobody wanted to read Philip Sidney's defense of his uncle. It was not lurid like the Commonwealth and people are much more interested in evil than in righteousness.
Even my order was not fully carried out. There would always be those who were ready to earn money by smuggling forbidden literature into the country. This was done and I imagined there was hardly a man or woman in the kingdom who did not know of Father Parson's Green Coat.
It was disconcerting too that it should be published abroad. Immediately there was a French edition—La Vie Abominable, Ruses, Meurtres etc de my Lord de Leicester. And how unfortunate it was that my English Ambassador should happen to be Sir Edward Stafford who had married Douglass Sheffield.
He was in a dilemma. He wrote to Walsingham and Burghley, calling attention to the translation, asking whether he could allow such a document, which was an insult to his Queen and one of her leading ministers, to go unnoticed; on the other hand to call attention to it was distressing to his wife who was mentioned in it. She had been prostrate with melancholy when the first edition had appeared, and now this one was sending her “out of her head” and he feared she was in danger of death.
When these letters were brought to me I could sympathize with poor Douglass Sheffield. I myself was slandered in the document and like Douglass could be said to be accused of complicity in murder. I was strong though, and she, poor soul, was a weakling. How she must regret the day she set eyes on Robert Dudley and allowed her feelings for him to get the better of virtue.
But what were we to do? That was the question.
Burghley said he thought that Stafford in his letter had provided the answer: The matter, he said, should be left alone, as a thing we make no account of rather than to speak against it, to make think “that a galled horse when he is touched will wince”.
I nodded.
“Yes,” I said, “Stafford is right. If we ignore this it seems we treat it with the indifference it deserves. To raise our voices in protest and anger would appear that we have taken this seriously and it might seem that we have something to hide.”
“Let us treat it as the ramblings of a fanatic.”
So it was.
But that was not the end of Father Parson's Green Coat. It was to be subversively printed and reprinted and it appeared throughout the kingdom for years to come. But Robert was strong enough to live down his reputation; and perhaps he was even more feared than ever, and people were more inclined to think seriously before offending him.
Robert snapped his fingers at the scandal and went on pursuing his brilliant career.
THE SITUATION IN the Netherlands was coming toward a climax. Burghley had hinted that we should have to make a painful decision soon.
As had been predicted, the sovereignty of the Netherlands had been offered to me and the Dutch delegates came to England imploring my help. They thought the offer of the crown would decide me; they did not understand that I was committed to peace and that my whole being cried out against war. Had it not been for the eternal menace of Spain I would not for a moment have considered interfering. But I knew my ministers were right when they said we could not allow Spain to have complete control over a country so near to our shores.
So it was decided that we would assist the Dutch with money and yes… with men; and we must be paid for this to the last farthing when the war was over. Until that happy event we must have solid pledges in the shape of a town in each province.
We agreed to send four hundred horse, four thousand foot and seven hundred garrison troops. Later we added to that number for it was clear that more would be needed; and I promised a further six hundred cavalry and a thousand foot.
Because I wanted to please Robert and Burghley I made Philip Sidney governor of Flushing and Burghley's eldest son, Thomas Cecil, that of Brill.
They were always seeking honors for those whom they were trying to bring to my notice. Even Burghley, who was not a power-seeker, was guilty of this, and I fancied he kept back those brilliant Bacon boys for fear they should outstrip his own son—not Thomas, the elder, but his little hunchbacked Robert who had already been brought to my notice and whom I recognized as a clever little fellow—probably doubly so because his disability had made him want to shine through his brains since he could not through his personal appearance.
The great decision was, who should command the expedition? I knew Robert wanted to, but I hesitated to give it to him only because I hated to have him leave Court, and the possibility of his being in danger terrified me.
But the general opinion was that the command should go to him.
Father Parson's Green Coat was still very much in people's minds and it would be well for him to absent himself for a while.
Both Burghley and Walsingham remarked that he was a great figure in England and the fact that we sent him would make people understand how important the matter was to us; moreover, Robert, who wanted the glory of the expedition, had the means to use a great deal of his own money in promoting himself; and although he was not a general himself, he would have able commanders with him.
So it was decided that Robert should go to the Netherlands.
* * *
I SUMMONED HIM to Court and kept him with me before he left. There was so much business to discuss, I said. Even the night before he set out I made sure that he did not return to Leicester House where no doubt Lettice was waiting to say a fond farewell.
So I was with Robert till the time he set off for Harwich where a fleet of fifty sail was waiting to take him on the first stage of his journey.
I heard of the wonderful reception he was given on his arrival at Rotterdam, where the banks were lined with men hold
ing cressets high in the air, and the cheers, ran the report, were deafening.
Poor people, they must have been very frightened; and who could wonder with those fanatical Spaniards noted for their cruelty ready to subdue them. And how Robert must have loved such a welcome! In his heart he had always wanted to be a king.
I felt quite ill after he had gone. I should not have allowed it. What if he should be killed in battle? Of course, he had looked so splendid, sitting at the head of his cavalcade, and when I had voiced my fears, he had said, with characteristic charm, that he wished he had a thousand lives that he might place them at my service.
But I worried and that brought on my headaches and I wished fervently that we had never become involved in the Netherlands controversy. I would never have done so but for my fear of the Spaniards who were growing more and more powerful every day. I thanked God for our fine seamen like Sir Francis Drake who robbed and pillaged their ships whenever possible. I wished there were more like him and we could drive the Spaniards off the seas. Why could not they live in peace in their country and leave me to mine? Why did they have to have this fanatical desire to impose their power and their religion on those who did not want it?
But so it was, and because of this, fine men like Robert Dudley had to go to war.
My feelings took a sharp turn when the news was brought to me that almost immediately after his arrival Robert, regarded as the savior of the Netherlands, was offered the Governor-Generalship of the United Provinces—the honor of sovereignty which first Henri Trois had refused and then I had. And Robert had dared accept without consulting me! My fury drove away my anxiety. Why had I worried about Robert? He had not gone there to fight but to make himself a king!
I sent for Thomas Heneage. I cried: “What think you of this news? My lord Leicester has taken the honor which I refused. I suppose he is now setting himself up as King of the Netherlands.”
Heneage was secretly pleased, of course, as they all were when I was angry with Robert, yet he was afraid to condemn him for they knew I was capable of turning on them if they attacked him.
“I shall write to him at once,” I said, “and put a stop to all this nonsense. You shall take my letter to him and let him know the full weight of my displeasure.”
Then I sat down and wrote to him in the heat of my anger:
“We could never have imagined had we not seen it fall out in experience, that a man raised up by ourself, and extraordinarily favored by us above any subject of this land, would have, in so contemptible a sort, broken our commandment in a cause which so greatly touches our honor…
“Our express pleasure and commandment is that, all delays and excuses laid apart, do you presently, upon the duty of your allegiance, obey and fulfill whatsoever the bearer shall direct you to do in our name: whereof fail you not or you will answer the contrary at your uttermost peril…”
Oh, I would have him humiliated! He had accepted the honor. Now he could publicly renounce it. I would have the whole of the Netherlands know that he was my servant and no one should forget it.
Such was my rage against Robert. But I suppose those about me, who knew me well, were aware that it would quickly subside and I would soon be feeling anxious for his dignity as well as his health.
Burghley advised caution. Let us discuss the matter. Let us not make hasty decisions.
I was already beginning to waver. I could imagine his joy when he accepted the great honor. Dear Robert, he would have done so with such charm and dignity. I wished I had been there to see him. Then I remembered what he had done. He had taken matters into his own hands. Moreover, how could he be Governor General of the United Provinces? His place was not in the Netherlands but in England at my side.
Then I heard news which infuriated me even more. Lettice was preparing to join him and she was proceeding in the state of a queen! She was assembling her wardrobe and in the city of London the merchants were busily making their way to Leicester House taking the finest materials for her approval—suitable for the wife of a man who was one step from a throne. She had ordered several coaches to be built and on these would be the arms of the Netherlands combined with those of Leicester.
Madam Lettice could only travel in the style of a queen!
I really gave vent to my feelings then. I swore by God that Madam Lettice was going to unpack her fine possessions with all speed. There was to be no triumphant royal trip for her.
“She is not going to join her King in the Netherlands,” I said grimly. “She might join him in the Tower, for he has lost his crown and will soon be returning to England in disgrace.”
So Lettice was commanded to stop her preparations. She could send the merchants back to their shops with their splendid materials; she could unpack her jewels. It was going to be very different from what she had imagined.
Heneage should leave at once for the Netherlands. He should tell Leicester that he must inform his dear subjects that his Queen, without whom he had no power whatsoever, had decided that he had acted rashly, foolishly and against her wishes in accepting what she would not allow him to take. And he must hand it back forthwith.
I had been getting over my anger with Robert but the thought of Lettice preparing to make a royal procession had sent it flaring up again.
Burghley was for keeping Heneage back for a while; so was Heneage himself. I know Burghley would have liked to see Robert humiliated, but he never allowed personal feelings to interfere with politics. That was what made him my most valuable servant.
He now pointed out the danger of publicly humiliating the man I had sent as my representative. Certainly Leicester must give up the GovernorGeneralship; this country could not take on such a responsibility; but he must be allowed to do so in a manner which would create the least fuss. Some excuse must be found. Leicester must be extricated from a position in which a momentary aberration on his part had placed him. It should be widely understood that England had no wish to take on the responsibility of the Netherlands. It was a different matter to give them military aid. As it was, we were not at war with Spain—although we were in fact fighting in the Netherlands. The position was delicate. This action of Leicester's had exacerbated it to some extent; but we must not make it more difficult.
I saw the point of this and of course I would never have hurt Robert with a public humiliation. It would be enough to berate him in private.
* * *
WHAT A DISASTER that campaign was! I should never have allowed myself to be persuaded to go to war—for that was what it was. Hadn't I always known that no one profited from war! It was too costly in lives and property; and the idea of wasting money on ammunition when it could be put to better use infuriated me.
Robert was not really a soldier; he was a courtier. Of course he reveled in the spectacles, all the feasting and adulation. But the Dutch did not want him there for that. They wanted the Spaniards driven out of their land.
I had agreed that Robert should continue in his office until some plan could be made to qualify his title. Perhaps my great desire after my first flush of anger, was to let all know that there had been no collusion on my part. My feelings for Robert were universally known and there would most certainly be suspicions that I had maneuvered this great honor for him. I had made it very clear that I had not, and now I was ready to allow the Council to find some way out of it.
Robert was not meant for such a task. We should never have sent him. He despised the Dutch for their homely manners and referred to them in their hearing as churls and tinkers. His great desire now was to come home.
Moreover, as I have said, he was not a soldier and was no true match for the Spaniards. It is true he relieved the town of Grave and then seemed to be of the opinion that this decided the entire campaign and he could rest from fighting. But it was not long before Parma had recaptured Grave and Robert was quarreling with his captains, blaming everyone for failure except himself.
I could imagine how he missed Court.
Then somethin
g very sad took place. Philip Sidney had accompanied his uncle to the Netherlands to take up his command at Flushing. I could imagine Robert's discussions with Sidney about my annoyance over the Governor-Generalship; and young Philip would of course believe that his uncle could do no wrong. What a beautiful relationship there was between those two! Now I wished more than ever that I had never embarked on this adventure; it was bringing misery to everyone. If I had my way I would have entrenched myself in England—building my ships, fortifying my land for the day when the Spaniards attempted to conquer us. Burghley was sure that they would come, and I was beginning to believe that he was right.
Oh yes, that would have been better than this futile fighting abroad.
Philip Sidney must have been feeling very sad because he had recently lost both his father and mother. Their deaths had saddened me, particularly that of Mary Sidney whose devotion I would always remember. How I hated people to die! It was bad enough when they died in their beds but when they were hastened prematurely to their graves indulging in stupid warfare it was almost unendurable.
It happened at Zutphen. Philip had left his tent early in the morning and unhappily for him had met Sir William Pelham who had forgotten to put on his leg armor. Philip foolishly offered his and declared that he did not need that sort of equipment. How wrong the foolish boy was! During the ensuing battle he was wounded in the left thigh.
There was a saintliness about Philip Sidney—in spite of the fact that he had written those love poems to Penelope Rich, another man's wife. She was the she-wolf's cub so perhaps she had some special powers, inherited from her mother, to turn men to her.
Philip Sidney had certainly been devoted to Penelope in spite of his having a good wife in Walsingham's girl, Frances.
Queen Of This Realm Page 41
