I was deeply shaken when there was an attempted rising in the North by the Earls of Northumberland and Westmorland, the aim of which was to release Mary Stuart and bring back Catholicism to England.

I knew that Northumberland—a rather foolish man—had been annoyed because I had not entrusted Mary to him. How could he think I would be so foolish! He was a well-known Catholic and thought of himself—as all the Percys did—as lord of the North. What was disquieting was that Walsingham had discovered that the Spanish had promised aid to Northumberland and Westmorland if they could bring sufficient numbers to rise against me. The Pope too was behind the rising.

And when I thought that even Robert had joined in the scheme to marry Norfolk to Mary without my knowing, I felt very uneasy.

The plot was well advanced. The Duke of Alva had promised to send over an army of Spaniards. The Marquis of Catena had arrived in England ostensibly to conduct an embassy but in fact to lead the army when it arrived. Pius V had given his blessing to the enterprise.

Fortunately the Earl of Sussex, when paying a friendly call on Northumberland, became suspicious. He came immediately to Cecil and me and told us that he feared a revolt against the crown was being planned.

Cecil advised me to summon Northumberland to London and when I had a letter from him pleading illness, all my suspicions were aroused and I sent guards to him with orders to arrest him if he offered any excuse for not accompanying them. However, Northumberland was just a little too quick for them; he managed to escape and join Westmorland and the two Earls put up their standards, declaring their intentions to bring Mary out of captivity and restore the Catholic Faith to England. It was alarming to discover that a force of seventeen hundred horse and four thousand foot were ready to join them. They were able to march to Durham where they set up the Mass in the Minster. Then they passed through the North celebrating the Mass wherever they went.

Sussex advanced on the North and soon put the rebels to flight and when defeat became obvious those who had enthusiastically marched to set up the Mass decided that they would be safer in their homes.

Westmorland escaped to the Low Countries and after evading his captors for some time, the Earl of Northumberland ended up on the scaffold at York declaring to the end his belief in the Catholic Faith. His head was stuck on Micklegate—a warning to all traitors.

I had to show the people that although I loved dearly those who were true to me and I wished to please them and do their will, I would not tolerate traitors and when I found them I could be as ruthless as my father had been.

Six hundred men had been caught and were soon lifeless corpses hanging on gibbets—a grisly warning to any who thought they could lightly challenge the rights of the Queen.

The North was plunged into mourning.

“This is Mary Stuart's doing,” I said. “When she came into our realm, that was the end of the peaceful days.”

“And so it will be while she remains in it,” retorted Cecil.

I nodded. But how could I be rid of her? There was no evidence that she had been involved in this plot. Plotters used the names of those who were close to the throne, as I knew to my cost. How often had mine been used as the reason for rebellion!

No! Mary was not personally to blame for this—although but for her it would never have taken place.


* * *

SIR FRANCIS WALSINGHAM came to me on a matter of great urgency. He had uncovered a conspiracy, and it was his belief that immediate action should be taken.

“It is a plot against Your Majesty's own person,” he declared.

“You had better explain,” I told him.

“I have been watchful of a certain Roberto Ridolfi—a banker from Florence who has, on more than one occasion, been acting suspiciously,” replied Walsingham. “I had reason to believe that he had been supplying money to the Northern rebels at the time of the rising. I took him into my house for questioning. However, nothing was revealed and I no longer had an excuse for detaining him. I let him believe that he was free from suspicion, for then I thought he would go about his business without taking any special care. At the same time I had him watched.”

I nodded. I felt a great affection for men such as my swarthy Moor.

“It came to my knowledge that this man was in touch with Leslie, Bishop of Ross, whom I knew was an agent for Mary of Scotland. Norfolk is involved.”

“Norfolk! That knave!”

“I have intercepted letters, Your Majesty, and I can tell you precisely what was planned. Mary was to marry Norfolk who will become a Catholic and together they were to set up the Catholic Church in England.”

“In England!” I cried. “And what of the Queen of England? Is she supposed to stand aside and say, Do as you will, Your Majesties?”

Walsingham hesitated. Then he said: “Your Majesty, it has been suggested that you will be… assassinated and Mary will take your place. The Pope agrees to help as does Philip of Spain. The plan is that as soon as they have killed Your Majesty, Alva arrives with an army to subdue any rising against them. The letters were entrusted to a certain Charles Baillie whom I have arrested, and I trust I have Your Majesty's approval for doing so. I have put him on the rack and have had a full confession from him.”

“You did not tell us what was happening, Walsingham.”

“Your Majesty, I knew I was on a trail. I trusted no one and wanted to keep the matter to myself until I had something to show you, for I did not want to come to you until I had the evidence to lay before you. I have letters written in Norfolk's hand. He has signed two documents. One that he is a Catholic and the other pledging himself to stand at the head of an army which Philip promises to send when the moment is ripe.”

“The perfidy of the rogue!” I said. “Why did I spare him before?”

“He was not implicated then, Your Majesty, as he is now.”

“He is indeed now.”

“As are Ridolfi and the Queen of Scots.”

I nodded. “I thank you for your good services. They shall not be forgotten.”

“It is my joy to serve Your Majesty.”

“I will send for Cecil,” I said. “I shall acquaint him with what you have said. And stay with us. I would like him to hear all from you and see your evidence.”

It was damning.

There was nothing which could save Norfolk now.


* * *

SCENTING DANGER, RIDOLFI had returned to Italy where I heard later that the Pope had received him warmly and given him honors. He was out of our reach, but Norfolk was not… nor was Mary.

Mary had been proved an enemy once more. There were letters in her handwriting. She clearly accepted Norfolk as her husband-to-be and she knew on what terms help was coming from Philip of Spain and the Duke of Alva. She was as guilty as Norfolk.

There were some who said: “Here is your chance. Destroy this woman now and she will be out of your way forever.”

I thought of it—indeed I had sleepless nights thinking of it. She was guilty. She had schemed to overthrow me and if necessary take my life to do so. She had plotted to murder me, or at least she had connived at it … just as she had in the case of Lord Darnley.

I had every reason to send her to the block, to condemn her to the death she had agreed should be imposed on me.

Oddly enough, I could not do it. I hated her. I wanted her out of the way. She was a menace and yet I could not give orders to kill her. She was a queen for one thing. One queen cannot kill another. There must be some respect for royalty.

Strangely enough, I was not sure that I wanted her out of the way. She maddened me but I liked to hear about her. I suppose I was more interested in her than in any other woman. I was foolish. How should I ever know when she was planning to kill me? Yet I could not bring myself to sign that death warrant.

The guard should be tightened about her. There should be no more smuggling in of traitors' letters.

She was my prisoner and she could never be anything else while I lived. Sometimes I marvel at my leniency toward that woman. Sometimes I thought she fascinated me as certainly as she had all those fine gentlemen who fell victim to her charms.

I had no such qualms about Norfolk.

On a hot June day he went out to Tower Hill where the executioner was waiting for him with his axe. 

Massacre

SHOCKED BY THE LENGTHS TO WHICH SPAIN, WITH THE help of Pope Pius, was ready to go for my destruction, I knew that I must seek some alliance with France…at least the pretense of one, and when Catherine de' Medici suggested a marriage between her son the Duc d'Anjou and myself I pretended to consider it.

Catherine was the most powerful figure in France at that time. Her son Charles IX was at best unbalanced, many said he was mad, and he was entirely in her hands. It was believed in some quarters that she had hastened his elder brother Franois—Mary's first husband—to his death so that she could rule through her weak-minded son. I do not know what happened in the case of Franois, but she certainly was the power behind the throne in France. And she longed to see one of her sons King of England.

I discussed the proposal at great length with Cecil, who was now Lord Burghley. I thought it was time I showed my appreciation and had made him a baron. It was no more than he deserved.

Anjou was nineteen. I was at this time thirty-seven, so I could reasonably demur about the differences in our ages. He was a Catholic, of course, and the English did not care much for Catholic consorts. One only had to refer back to the last reign and remember the abhorrence in which the country had held Philip of Spain.