by Alison Weir
He was dismayed therefore to learn that Philip of Spain was now doing his best to halt the negotiations on the grounds that the Archduke could not possibly marry a heretic queen. De Silva's opinion was that Elizabeth had no intention of marrying Charles anyway, maintaining that 'if any marriage at all is to result from all this, it will be Leicester's'.
Philip had already decided that he himself should be the instrument through which England should be returned to the Catholic fold, but the time was not yet right for fulfilling that sacred duty. In Philip's opinion, Mary, Queen of Scots was 'the sole gate through which religion can be restored in England; all the rest are closed'. This did not mean that he advocated the deposition of Elizabeth, which would be a scheme fraught with dangers. It would be far better, he believed, if Mary waited patiently until her peaceful succession to the English crown could be secured.
Moray and his rebel lords had retreated to Glasgow, whither Mary marched at the head of an army to capture them. On 6 October, the rebels fled to England, hoping to be succoured by Elizabeth. When she received Moray, she wore black, kept him on his knees, and castigated him publicly for rebelling against his anointed sovereign: 'We will not maintain any subject in any disobedience against the prince, for we know that Almighty God might justly recompense us with the like trouble in our own realm.' As for aid, none was to be forthcoming, although Moray might remain as an exile in England. When, in what became known as the 'Chaseabout Raid', Mary sent her troops to hunt any rebels out of Scotland, Elizabeth, who preferred peace to war, lifted no finger to help Moray, and Mary emerged victorious.
It was, however, an empty victory. The unruly Scots lords were proving difficult to control, Darnley was frequently drunk and, in the words of a courtier, 'wilful, haughty and vicious', and had been involved in street brawls in Edinburgh. Randolph reported that he was 'of an insolent, imperious nature, and thinks that he is never sufficiently honoured'. Mary's infatuation had died, and there were bitter 'jars' (quarrels) between the young couple. Whereas before Mary had turned to Maitland for advice, she now leaned upon her secretary, Rizzio. 'Seigneur Davie', as her courtiers sneeringly referred to him, was a native of Piedmont and had first come to her court in the train of the Savoyard ambassador in 1561. Mary had noticed his fine bass voice and had persuaded him to stay at her court as part of a vocal quartet. Later, she had made him her French secretary, and he had become friendly with Darnley. By June 1565, according to Randolph, Rizzio was 'he that works all'.
Now, however, Darnley grew resentful as he saw Rizzio's influence increasing daily and the Queen showing more and more favour to the man he regarded as an upstart Italian. In addition, those who craved favours or patronage from Mary had to bribe Rizzio in order to obtain an audience. Had he been a great nobleman, this would have been acceptable, but he was not, and he soon became the object of general hatred, derision and resentment. The Queen, miserable in her marriage and drawn to the lively Rizzio's company, failed to perceive that there was trouble brewing and that her ill-considered favouritism had caused it.
The exiled Protestant lords, however, summed up the situation very clearly, and resolved to return to Scotland with the aim of crushing Rizzio - and Darnley, too, if they were lucky. They had an ally in Maitland, who was jealous of the Italian who had supplanted him in the Queen's counsels, and even in Darnley himself, who was jealous for different reasons: he believed his wife to be having an affair with Rizzio, and the rebel lords were happy to let him think so. Darnley's resentment was festering because he had not been given the power he claimed was rightfully his, and also because Mary would not even discuss state affairs with him.
In December, it was announced that Queen Mary was pregnant. Her marriage was nevertheless a sham, since both partners avoided each other's company as often as possible. Darnley enjoyed himself, mostly at the hunt, whilst Mary attended to matters of state. And if she was lonely or needed someone to divert her, Rizzio was always there.
10
'Things Grievouser and Worse'
By November 1565, the 'great controversy' between Norfolk and Leicester had reached epic proportions. Each faction had now adopted a livery, purple being worn by Leicester's followers, and yellow by the Norfolk-Sussex affinity. The young bloods in these factions were only too prone to resort to violence and brawling in order to settle their differences, and at one point the tension between the groups became so threatening that Sussex protested to the Queen that his life was in danger.
Elizabeth was well aware that the favour shown by her towards Leicester was at the root of these troubles, and that he did not help matters by boasting that he was 'a man that never did depend upon any but merely Her Majesty'. She tried to defuse the tension by publicly warning him, in the Presence Chamber, not to provoke jealousy by displaying too much familiarity towards her.
She acted as mediator between the factions on this occasion, insisting that all quarrels be put aside. From Ireland, Sidney wrote to Leicester, 'I hear of a great reconcilement lately made with you.' However, he could not see it lasting: 'There may be fairer semblances between you and others, but trust not before trial, for in such trust is oft treason.' These views were shared by many other people around the court, who could sense the animosity beneath the surface courtesies.
De Foix noted that month that Leicester was still the chief contender for the Queen's hand, and related how even his enemies felt it expedient to feign friendship towards him. Norfolk was the one exception.
The Duke had an audience with the Queen early in December, in which he seized his chance to promote the benefits of marriage and the desirability of settling the succession question. He told Elizabeth that most of her influential subjects wanted her to marry the Archduke Charles. If they had appeared to endorse a marriage to Leicester, they had only done so because they believed that that was where her heart lay, 'not because they really thought the match would be beneficial to the country or good for her own dignity'. Elizabeth listened politely to the Duke, but refused to commit herself to a definite answer. She agreed to his request to return to his estates and the interview came to an end.
Immediately afterwards, Norfolk sought out Leicester and warned him not to forget that he had promised the previous summer to abandon his pursuit of the Queen. Leicester forbore to take issue with him, and Norfolk went home, feeling he had done his sovereign and his country a service.
At Christmas, Leicester, confident of success this time, asked the Queen to marry him. As usual she hedged, teasing him that he would have to wait until Candlemas in February for an answer, although during the next few days she appeared to be seriously considering his proposal. The court was lively with speculation, while Leicester capitalised on his expected future role as consort, making more enemies in the process. De Foix swore privately to de Silva that Leicester 'had slept with the Queen on New Year's Night', but de Silva discounted this as nothing but an attempt to besmirch the Queen's reputation and thus wreck her chances of a Habsburg marriage.
However, there was another heated exchange between Leicester and Heneage on Twelfth Night, when the latter was chosen as 'King of the Bean' and allowed to preside over the court for the evening. In one game of wits, Heneage forced Leicester to ask the Queen which was the more difficult to erase from the mind - jealousy, or an evil opinion implanted by a wicked tale-teller.
'Lord Robert, being unable to refuse, obeyed. The Queen replied courteously that both were difficult to get rid of, but that, in her opinion, it was much more difficult to remove jealousy.' Leicester took this personally as implying that he had been deliberately unfaithful to her, and sent a message warning Heneage that he would 'castigate him with a stick' for his impertinence. Heneage retorted that 'this was not punishment for equals, and that if Lord Robert came to insult him, he would discover whether his sword could cut and thrust. The only answer Lord Robert gave was that this gentleman was not his equal and that he would postpone chastisement till he thought it time to do so.' The French ambassador rep
orted that Heneage complained about this to the Queen, who was very vexed with Leicester, storming at him 'that if, by her favour, he had become insolent, he should soon reform, and that she would debase him just as she had raised him'. Leicester, 'in deep melancholy', spent the next four days shut up in his rooms, which had the desired effect, since the Queen's anger soon turned to forgiveness. It was shortly afterwards reported in Venice that she meant to make him a duke and marry him. Candlemas came and went, however, without any announcement being made, and it soon became clear that Elizabeth was employing her usual evasive strategy.
Norfolk was still determined to oust Leicester from favour. On the surface, the two men made an effort to be friendly, but their mutual animosity was obvious. Therefore, when the King of France, grateful for the Order of the Garter, decided in return to confer the Order of St Michael upon two of the Queen's subjects, the choice being hers, she nominated both Leicester and Norfolk, and the ceremony was fixed for 24 January.
Norfolk, resentful that Leicester was being so honoured, refused to attend, and only after great persuasion on the Queen's part did he agree to do so. On the day, he and Leicester, wearing robes of white and russet velvet garnished with lace, gold and silver, formally embraced in the 'great closet' at Whitehall and then proceeded to the chapel for the ceremony of investiture. Beneath the veneer of courtesy, hatred simmered. Nor did the Queen remain impressed with the honour conferred. After the French had bestowed the same insignia on Lord Darnley, she found out that the Order of St Michael had been indiscriminately awarded to so many men that it was completely devalued.
Shortly after the ceremony, having learned from Cecil that the favourite had ignored his promise not to press his suit, Norfolk sought out Leicester and insisted he abandon all thoughts of marrying the Queen. Instead, it was vital that he support the Habsburg project. Leicester agreed to do whatever he could providing it would not appear to Elizabeth that he was doing so out of distaste for her, since she might, 'womanlike, undo him'. True to his word, he went straight to her and urged her to marry soon for her own sake, for that of her country, and to stop others from accusing him of preventing it.
Shortly afterwards, whilst walking with de Silva in the Privy Garden at Whitehall, Elizabeth commended Leicester to the ambassador for his selflessness in urging her to marry for England's sake. In fact, it was not her affection for Leicester that was holding up the marriage negotiations, but the Emperor's refusal to agree with her conditions. When, in January, Maximilian had urged her to relax them, she dug her heels in, declaring it would cause 'a thousand inconveniences' if she married a man of a different religion.
Leicester's true feelings were shortly afterwards revealed when Elizabeth indulged in further flirtation with Ormonde, which this time angered Leicester. He quarrelled with the Queen, achieved nothing, and left court. Norfolk left too, remaining in the country until September.
Leicester had had enough. He was weary of strife and intrigue, and depressed at being blamed for Elizabeth's failure to marry. People thought he had great influence over her, but that was not the case. He was held responsible for the failures of government, but never for its successes, which were always attributed to the Queen. During his absence both Cecil and Throckmorton kept him up to date on state and court affairs, and he confided to Cecil that he despaired of the Queen ever making a good marriage; Throckmorton advised him to stay away from court in order to avoid being blamed for this. Indeed, he had no inclination to return, nor any appetite for the Queen's temper or the exhausting courtship dance she required him to take part in.
By February 1566, Lord Darnley, having heard that Rizzio now enjoyed confidential sessions with Mary in her private chamber and might be the father of her unborn child (a rumour still current in the early seventeenth century), could no longer live with the conviction that his wife was betraying him; nor could he suffer existing as a king with no power. He made it clear to those around him that he would be a crowned king regnant and nothing less, and that if he was helped to achieve this, he was prepared to support the Protestant Church in Scotland. He was fair game therefore for the unscrupulous Scots lords, who unanimously resented Rizzio's influence and wanted both him and Darnley out of the way. It appeared that the ailing Patrick, Lord Ruthven and the Earl of Morton were the leading conspirators, although the evidence strongly suggests that they were just a front to cover up the activities of the exiled Moray and his rebels, who were seeking a means to restore themselves to power.
The plotters were resolved to kill Rizzio in the Queen's presence: knowing that Mary was six months pregnant, they anticipated that the shock might harm her and her unborn child, in which case she would be incapacitated. With the lords' apparent support, Darnley envisaged himself invested with the crown matrimonial, or, if Mary died in childbirth set up as regent, or even king in her place. Whatever happened to her, he believed he would still rule Scotland, for even if she survived the coup with her sanity and her pregnancy unscathed, the conspirators had agreed that she would be shut up in Stirling Castle at his pleasure.
Darnley's fellow conspirators had other plans. They meant to represent to Mary when the time came that he alone had been the prime mover behind Rizzio's murder, and that he had also intended harm to herself, so provoking her into charging him with treason - for which the penalty was death. Thus, at a stroke, they would rid themselves of two unwelcome nuisances.
Thomas Randolph had his informants around the Scottish court, and on 13 February he reported to Leicester I know now for certain that this Queen repenteth her marriage, that she hateth the King and all his kin. I know that, if that take effect which is intended, David, with the consent of the King, shall have his throat cut within these ten days. Many things grievouser and worse are brought to my ears - yea, of things intended against Her Majesty's own person, Leicester, was not to repeat this. Nevertheless, Cecil and the Privy Council were aware that murder was being planned, and could have deduced that harm might come to the Scots Queen. Elizabeth was not informed until after the deed had been done: on 6 March Randolph asked Cecil to warn her of what was planned, but his letter did not reach London in time.
The conspirators had originally planned to carry out the murder on 12 March, but, guessing that Randolph had betrayed them, decided to act three days earlier just in case Elizabeth should intervene. On 9 March 1566, Lord Ruthven led a group of armed men into the Palace of Holyrood, just as Queen Mary, now six months pregnant, was dining in private with Lady Argyll and Rizzio, who had not removed his cap, as was expected of one in the presence of his sovereign. Suddenly, Darnley and other intruders, including a fully-armoured Ruthven, burst into the room, jostled the Queen aside, and laid hands on the Italian, who screamed, 'Justice! Justice! Save me, my lady!' as he clung to Mary's skirts. Armed men pulled him away and he was dragged into an adjoining chamber, where he was savagely murdered, his body pierced with fifty- six dagger wounds. Mary was forcibly restrained from trying to help him, and later claimed that one of the conspirators had aimed a loaded pistol at her distended stomach. When she remonstrated with Darnley, asking why he had done this 'wicked deed', he flung back at her that 'David had had more company of her body than he for the space of two months.'
In a state of shock, the Queen was confined to her rooms, but during the next two days she managed to convince her not very intelligent husband that the conspirators were planning to murder him next. Darnley, frightened out of his wits, betrayed the names of all who had taken part in the murder, and Mary immediately concluded that the plot had been aimed at her. At midnight on 11 March, the royal couple stole down some back stairs, escaped from the palace through the servants' quarters, and, taking horses, rode like the wind through the night for twenty-five miles until they reached Dunbar.
From there the Queen, determined to avenge Rizzio's murder, raised an army of 8000 men and marched back to Edinburgh, reoccupying the capital on 18 March. The conspirators, however, had already fled the city, seething with vengeful hatred a
t Darnley's perfidy. It was not long before Mary discovered the extent of Darnley's involvement in the plot against Rizzio, which brought to an abrupt end the brief reconciliation between husband and wife. From now on, they would be estranged, with Mary excluding Darnley from all state affairs. He remained at court, however, a sullen, dangerous nuisance, who was permanently under scrutiny in case he involve himself in any new conspiracy.
Elizabeth, when informed by Mary, in an emotional and graphic letter sent from Dunbar, of the murder of Rizzio and Darnley's involvement, expressed genuine horror at how Mary had been treated. Wearing a miniature of Mary suspended from a waist chain, she received de Silva and, during the course of an hour's discussion on the evils of what had happened, told him, 'Had I been in Queen Mary's place, I would have taken my husband's dagger and stabbed him with it.' Then, remembering to whom she was speaking, she quickly added that she would never do such a thing to the Archduke Charles.
When she returned to Edinburgh, Mary found Moray waiting to offer her his support. He had been impressed by her courage in handling a dangerous situation, and now he managed to convince her he was on her side. She reinstated him on her Council, and as her pregnancy advanced, he gradually established himself as the effective ruler of Scotland, which suited Elizabeth very well. The Scots lords wanted no further truck with Darnley, and treated him with ill-concealed contempt.