Arrival of Alen?on in the Netherlands—His investure as Duke of Brabant—Leicester’s suspicion and intrigues—Alen?on’s ceaseless demands for money—Henry III. refuses aid to his brother—The Queen’s attempts to revive the marriage negotiations—Universal distrust of her—Attempted assassination of William of Orange—Danger of Alen?on—-Elizabeth’s fear of a French and Spanish understanding—To prevent it she again declares she will marry Alen?on—Her renewed efforts to pledge the King of France before the marriage—She threatens France that she will make friends with Spain unless her terms are granted.

On February 10, 1582, Alen?on’s fleet of fifteen ships anchored before Flushing, where the Princes of Orange and Epinay, with the members of the States, were already assembled to welcome the new sovereign of Brabant. He entered the town in great pomp with William the Silent on one side of him and Leicester on the other, and followed by Hunsdon, Willoughby, Philip Sidney, Sir John Norris who was in command of the English auxiliaries, and many other Englishmen. The bells rang, the guns thundered their welcome, and the crowds acclaimed their new ruler; but as Orange in his speech to the States clearly indicated, it was not the feeble Prince, a Frenchman, and a Catholic, they were greeting so much as the strong Protestant Queen of England, under whose auspices and protection he came.303 Wherever Frenchmen alone appeared they were looked at askance: at Middleburg the townspeople stoutly refused to admit even their new Duke’s French bodyguard until Leicester himself besought them to do so on his guarantee. All the citadels were open to Englishmen, but not a Frenchman, except Alen?on, was allowed to enter them. Alen?on wrote to Marchaumont almost as soon as he arrived that Orange and Leicester were arranging everything over his head, and he saw clearly that after all he was to play second fiddle. After some delay and misgiving, and a dispute for precedence between Brussels and Antwerp, the already disillusioned Prince made his state entry into the latter city, and received the oath of allegiance as Duke of Brabant. Everything that pomp could do was done to invest the ceremony with solemnity. When Orange clasped around the new Duke his ermine-bordered mantle he whispered to him, “I will fasten it firmly, Monseigneur, so that no one shall deprive you of it.” Garbed in his ducal panoply he passed through the city on horseback to the palace of St. Michael, sums of money in coins stamped with his effigy were flung to the crowd, and in appearance at least his longing for sovereignty was satisfied. But in appearance alone, for the States and Orange were urged by Leicester never to let the power out of their hands—and they never did.

In the meanwhile Elizabeth in England was still playing her part of the comedy. When she had parted from her lover at Canterbury she prayed him to address her in his letters as his wife, and daily epistles full of lovesick nonsense continued to pass between them. She openly said that she would304 willingly give a million for her dear “frog” to be disporting himself in the clear waters of the Thames rather than in the sluggish ponds of the Netherlands, and again asserted her intention of marrying her suitor if his brother would fulfil his promises. All this made Leicester in Flanders and Hatton in London somewhat distrustful. The former thought that perhaps after all he might be duped, and that Alen?on might detain him against his will. The Queen, moreover, in Hatton’s hearing had made some remark about men never knowing how fortunate they were until fortune had left them, which he applied to Leicester, and sent a special messenger to urge him to return at once. Leicester needed no second bidding. The very day after the investure of Alen?on he suddenly left Antwerp at dinner-time and hastened to England. He arrived in London on the 26th of February in high glee, boasting of the good service he had done in leaving the Queen’s troublesome suitor stuck fast in the bogs, like a wrecked hulk, deserted by wind and tide. The oath of allegiance, he said, was only a farce, and Alen?on a laughing-stock. Pasquins and insulting placards had been fixed to his chamber-door on the very first day of his stay in Antwerp; the Queen of England, and she alone, was now arbitratress of the peace of Europe. This was pleasant talk for Elizabeth, but was soon conveyed to Marchaumont, who made a formal complaint to the Queen of Leicester’s words. For this reason or from fear of Spain, she had a great wrangle with Leicester the next night. She had never meant to sanction the formal investure, she said, and had not been informed of it. Leicester, for his own ostentation, had implied by his305 presence at the ceremony her authority for it, and had drawn her into an act of open hostility to the King of Spain. He was a knave and a traitor, she said, and much else of the same sort. It was all a planned thing between him and that tyrannical Orange, so that the latter might have his own way in all things. She then turned on Walsingham, and called him a scamp for persuading Alen?on to go to the Netherlands at all. Probably all this extraordinary talk, and the Queen and Cecil’s sudden attempt to gain the goodwill and friendship of Spain, were caused by the intelligence sent by her ambassador, Cobham, in France, that the King had stoutly refused to countenance his brother’s attempt, and had declared traitors all those who helped him. Henry’s hand then was not to be forced, and after all she might find herself alone face to face with all the Catholic powers united. The fear of this always brought her to her knees, and she insisted upon Cecil’s leaving a sick bed to come and advise her what to do. He urged her emphatically either to marry Alen?on at once or make terms with the King of Spain, as things had now come to a crisis which could not be prolonged. She was peevish and quarrelsome with all about her, and perplexed to the last degree. Cecil urged her one way, Walsingham another, and Sussex a third. Alen?on was clamouring through Marchaumount for money, more money, for not a penny could he get elsewhere. His new subjects were bitterly distrustful of him, and hated his Frenchmen almost as much as they did their Spanish oppressors; and the poor Queen had nearly come to the end of her clever serpentine devices. First she decided to write, pressing306 Alen?on to come over at once and marry her—anything to relieve herself of the sole and open responsibility of the war—she solemnly swore to Castelnau that this time she was in earnest, and would really marry the Prince if he came. But Castelnau was incredulous and irresponsive, Walsingham and Leicester were inimical, and it is very doubtful whether the letter to Alen?on was really sent. Certain it is that the Queen wrote a letter with her own hand, and handed it the same day (March 5th) to Marchaumont to send to Alen?on, urging him not to trust the Flemish mob overmuch, or to venture further in the business than the support he was sure of would warrant. As his brother would not help him he must not expect her to quarrel with the King of Spain alone. She thus coolly left him in the lurch. The very day after this letter left, one of Pinart’s secretaries brought important letters from the King of France, his mother, and from Cobham to the Queen, which once more entirely changed the aspect of affairs. The King assured her that under no circumstances would he help his brother or break with Spain, whilst Cobham detailed a long conversation he had had with the King, in which the latter had expressed the greatest anger and indignation at the way in which a vain and fickle woman had befooled a prince of the blood royal of France for her own ends. Thank God! he said, he was not such a fool as his brother, and if the latter had only listened to him he would have safely and surely raised him to a better place than the Queen of England could do. In vain Cobham had sought to mollify the King. The Queen might try her cleverness upon others, said Henry, but if she307 was not straightforward with him she should suffer for it. He had already conceded too much to her, and would go no further. In future all responsibility must rest on the Queen of England. Elizabeth did not wait even to consult the Council, but at once sent a special courier to Cobham, ordering him to assure the King that there was nothing she desired more than to marry if he would fulfil the conditions. Then she summoned Sussex, and told him to arrange with Marchaumont to renew the arrangements for the marriage. But Sussex was sick of the whole business; he felt he was a mere catspaw, and yet he was being blamed by all parties; so he declined to interfere, on the ground that the Queen had so often expressed her natural repugnance to marriage that he was sure she would never bring herself to it, and she had better try to excuse the slights she had offered to the French royal house than commence a new series of them. Besides, he said, however fit Alen?on might be personally, his present position in the Netherlands made it most dangerous for her to marry him now, as it might bring her country face to face with Spain. He should not be doing his duty, said Sussex, did he not advise her, if she decided to marry the Duke, only to do so in case he left the Netherlands and surrendered the title of Duke of Brabant. She assured Sussex in reply that if she did marry she would make the Duke abandon the Netherlands enterprise. She then went to visit Cecil, who was ill with gout, and told him she had overcome her last scruple, and had decided to marry; but he was just as cool as Sussex, and would have nothing to do with it, and warned her to take care308 what she was about, or ill would come of it. Marchaumont was next taken in hand, and told by the Queen that at last she had decided to marry in real earnest. She urged him to persuade his master on this assurance, to retire from the Netherlands until she had arranged with his brother to break with Spain jointly with her. Marchaumont had long been begging for money, and seized the opportunity of suggesting that he should himself go to Flanders and bring Alen?on round to her views, taking with him the gold she had promised him from Drake’s plunder. The Council would not consent to Marchaumont’s going, but they sent the ￡15,000 with the letter the next night. This was early in March, 1582, and on the 18th of the same month Alen?on was giving an entertainment to celebrate his birthday at the palace of St. Michael, in Antwerp, when a young Biscayner discharged a pistol in the face of the Prince of Orange and wounded him in a way that kept him hovering between life and death for weeks to come. At the first news of the treacherous shot at the national hero, the hatred of the stout Dutchmen for the French flared out. It ran like wildfire from town to town that this was another plot of the false b............