Dudley Proposed
In the course of the friendly messages between the Queen Mary and Queen Elizabeth, which chiefly now bore on the question of the marriage, Sir James Melville was sent to Elizabeth. He was a shrewd observer with a strong sense of the ludicrous, as well as an accomplished courtier; and his account of the attentions paid to him, the professions lavished on him and the tricks, as they might be termed, to secure his confidence, is highly amusing. He was not for a moment deceived, and set down the whole as dissimulation and jealousy.' His mission occurred at a curious juncture in the affair of the marriage, which gives a zest to his personal sketches of Darnley, Leicester, and other bystanders, as well as of Elizabeth herself. We are told how she stealthily shows him Leicester's picture, comparing the handsome courtierly man it represents with "yonder long lad" the Lord Darnley, and drives the faithful courtier nearly frantic by determining to have his candid opinion on her own personal beauty as compared with that of his mistress. At his wits' end how to give her some honest praise, he had his opportunity at last, when it was managed that by chance he should hear her performing on the virginals, and pleaded that while wandering about "his ear was ravished with her melody, which drew him into the chamber he could scarcely tell how." just before this visit Elizabeth had declared herself on the question of the marriage. She had objected to every claimant brought forward by others. Her position seemed unreasonable; but when she changed it for a positive recommendation, she only added amazement to the other misgivings and difficulties, by proposing her own favourite, Leicester. What did she mean by this? Was it to extinguish temptation by fixing a gulf between her, and one whom she loved not wisely, but too well? Was it to shut the mouth of scandal, by a sort of protest that she was totally indifferent to him? Was it a mere dash into the diplomatic proceedings about her royal sister's marriage, for the purpose of throwing them into confusion? These are questions which those only who know what kind of sentiments may vibrate through such sinewy hearts as hers can profess to solve.
The proposal scattered dismay among Elizabeth's sage advisers, who wist not what to do. Leicester had been giving himself airs among them; and though they might consider him a rash young man, whose intellect was inflated by intoxicating draughts of regal caresses, yet some: of the wisest of them covertly sought his goodwill, as that of the man who might some day soon be their master. Randolph, in his confidential communings with Cecil, muttered his uneasiness in conjectures about "how unwilling the queen's majesty herself would be to depart from him, and how hardly his mind could be diverted or drawn from that worthy room where it is placed, let any man see, where it cannot be thought but it is so fixed for ever, that the world would judge worse of him than of any living man, if he should not rather yield his life than alter his thoughts."' Murray seemed desirous of the match-at least he spoke well of it. Leicester himself seems to have been silent, awaiting his destiny at the hands of Elizabeth. Mary not having fallen in love with Leicester-whom, by the way, she never saw-did not abandon her ambitious projects of a great regal alliance; and after having slighted suitors who, if below her mark, were still royal, received the proposal to marry the upstart favourite of her rival with an angry disdain, which she could not or did not wish to conceal. Indeed she repeatedly brought it up and discussed it in voluble irritation with the perplexed Randolph. Was she, the widow of the greatest sovereign in Christendom, to mate with a mere subject of the English queen? It was useless to say that a subject of Scotland had been gravely commended as a fitting match for Queen Elizabeth. That subject was of royal blood, and might become a sovereign-his father was then heir of the crown of Scotland, and it might be that the descendant of such a marriage should inherit both kingdoms-but what was Dudley? Little better than a Court lackey, and remarkable in his descent only for the criminality of an ancestor who belonged to the offensive and rapacious class called in scripture publicans. There was an odd and something like a diseased desire to hover about this proposal, offensive as it was, along with the question of the marriage generally. Wayward and capricious as her talk was, however it never touched her projects about foreign princes. Sometimes it would take a gloomy turn. She, was sick of all projects for her disposal. Her heart was in the grave of her dead husband, and she took opportunity after opportunity to show how dear he was to her memory.
People of strong passionate natures are often subject to reactionary influence, productive of depression, debility, and futile restlessness. In after-years, Queen Mary's nerves were more than once thus shattered, but the cause was then only too conspicuous to the world. For three months before her second marriage, the English resident's newsletters are disturbed by like symptoms from causes of irritation and anxiety unknown. The death of her illustrious ,uncle, and the perilous position of the house of Guise; the negotiations with Rome-hidden under a Protestant policy that might crush her if they were discovered; her remorseless sacrifice of Huntly, the best friend to her Church and herself,-were items all-sufficient to frighten and unnerve the strongest nature Yet perhaps it was only that her vehement heart was not then occupied by any object of exclusive devotion. Repeatedly Randolph had to allude to her evident sufferings from some secret sorrow, and seemed to think that her days were numbered. At times she was so ill that he could not see her, however urgent his business. At others, she received him at long, bewildering, sorrowful conferences at her bedside. Then suddenly she had taken horse and gone off to Perth or St Andrews-on one occasion to Dunbar, where there was still a French garrison, and the resident suspected that she was on a perfidious and dangerous mission. The resident's correspondence at this period is rife with ominous rumours and unverified predictions. It has from this cause a sort of negative instructiveness, since it teaches us that afterwards, when a whole chapter of tragic events followed thickly on each other, we must not take for granted that every mysterious hint or rumour finding its way into the ambassador's budget of news indicated an accurate foreknowledge of what was to come.
Dudley had just received the title, by which he is best Cecil commending him to Murry and Lethington show how, "First, he is of noble birth and void of all evil conditions that sometimes are heritable to princes, and in goodness of nature and richness of good gifts, comparable to any prince, and much better than a great sort of living. He is an Englishman, and so meet to carry with him the consent of this nation to accord with theirs. He is also signally esteemed of the queen, so that she thinks no good turn or fortune greater than may be well bestowed upon him. And for his degree at this time, he is already an earl of this realm, and she will give him the highest degree." Behind this and other commendations on the part of English statesmen, there lies the question whether they spoke in the hearty desire to give effect to the wishes of their mistress, or were anxious to remove from her an object of temptation and a cause of scandal. It was no doubt by the order of their mistress that they became anxiously diplomatic as to what she would do in support of Mary's claim to succeed her on the throne of England. Through a hazy mist of words, however, there never comes the direct promise to acknowledge Mary as the nearest heir of Elizabeth. "She will cause inquisition to be made" in the matter, and so far as shall stand with justice and her own security, Queen Elizabeth "shall remove all things prejudicial to her sister's interest."