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Espionage and Diplomacy in the Reigns of
Elizabeth I and Phillip II
A
Historiographic Survey
Abstract
This paper is a historiographical account of espionage and
diplomacy in Anglo-Hispanic relations in the later sixteenth
century. It examines the spying and subterfuge that occurred
between the courts of Phillip II and Elizabeth I. The networks
and structures built by Phillip’s government and Elizabeths’s
principal secretary, Francis Walsingham, to obtain information
are examined and various issues and incidents that occurred
between England and Spain in the sixteenth century are reviewed.
The study of sixteenth century Anglo-Hispanic espionage is a
subject with surprisingly few contested areas or radically
opposing views. Indeed, it is rarely approached as a self-
contained topic,1 but rather, is usually treated as a sub-
category of larger issues. Resources for
‘espionage’ usually may be found as minor, even anecdotal,
aspects of the grander political
machinations of the courts of Phillip and Elizabeth. An
increasing number of scholars do tend to
dominate enquiries into the topic and one will see familiar names
appearing consistently, yet
these scholars have other goals in mind and the covert tactics of
‘intelligencers’ are undoubtedly
peripheral to their main interests.
1 Two publications specifically concern sixteenth century espionage and both are specific to Elizabethan England: Steven Alford work, The Watchers: The Secret History of the Reign of Elizabeth I, (New York: Blloomsbury Press, 1012) and the Alan Haynes book, The Elizabethan Secret Services, (Mount Pleasant, SC: History Press, 2009).
For these reason my approach here is different than it would
be were I discussing the
historiography of a better known and more frequently analyzed
subject (e.g. the military aspects
of the Spanish Armada). For the most part, my strategy was to
take works on broader topics and
discuss what they say about espionage, hopefully illustrating the
avenues by which one may gain
an insight into the subject.
As ‘espionage,’ a concept which certainly existed in the
sixteenth century, and
‘diplomacy’ are so closely tied together in this study, some
definitions are required. While the
term is conventionally associated with ‘spying,’ a term that
existed at the time as well, it has
little to do with James Bond-style behavior; as the majority of
the material covered here concerns
diplomats operating in official channels I am defining espionage
as ‘unorthodox and covert
means to achieve political goals.’ It will become obvious that
the Spanish and English do this
through different methods: Philip II’s diplomats usually are the
main instigators while
Elizabeth’s ministers employed undercover operatives.
On an introductory level, several works may give the reader
an well-rounded political
background to the main issues and venues in which Hapsburg and
Tudor spies operated. Barbara
Fuchs’ short introduction to Volume 10 of the Journal for Early Modern
Cultural Studies, “The
Spanish Connection: Literary and Historical Perspectives on
Anglo-Iberian Relations”2 sets the
2 Barbara Fuchs, “The Spanish Connection: Literary and Historical Perspectiveson Anglo-Iberian Relations,” in (The Journal for Early Modern Cultural Studies, Vol. 10, No 1, 2010), 1-4.
stage quite well, distilling current trends and contemporary
attitudes. Her brief discussion
describes what I might call a ‘post-nationalist’ approach.
English-speaking perspectives have
generally marginalized Spain (one need only examine cinematic
portrayals and popular
publications to see this). By transcending the national and
linguistic barriers we may
appreciate the centrality of Spain in early modern history. While a
slight familiarity with the
Tudor era would probably give one an idea of the military threat
presented by the Spanish
Empire, its role and power as the first global empire has been
frequently absent from
Anglocentric histories.
Parker’s The Grand Strategy of Phillip II,3 as the title would imply,
is an over-
3 Geoffrey Parker, The Grand Strategy of Phillip II, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998).
arching analysis of the Spanish Empire in the second half of the
sixteenth century. While Parker
has produced several works on Phillip and his time, Grand Strategy,
is an analysis of how Phillip
conducted his empire, his practices, priorities, and personal
attitudes. The work is divided into
three parts: the first examines the general background to
Phillips strategy (and Parker is
convincing that he does have a strategy), the second looks at the
formation of the strategy, and
the third its implementation. For our purposes, here, Parker
gives a concise summary of how
Phillip’s intelligence system worked. At the top of the pyramid
information was supplied by his
ambassadors (this will become very evident below). He possessed
the largest diplomatic
organization up to his time, mostly recruited from the younger
sons of the nobility and
possessing some administrative or military experience.
Information from natives of the host
country was purchased by these envoys; upper-level servants in
Elizabeth’s household and even
the English ambassador in Paris were bribed by Spanish diplomats.
Philip received reports from
each ambassador at least weekly and, due to his general
personality, he demanded to be told
everything in detail. Not only were these ministers expected to
report regularly to Philip, they
were also expected to keep each other abreast of developments.4
Aside from the usual channels discussed below, Parker notes
in Grand Strategy that in
the prelude to the Armada campaign the English frequently
received unexpected intelligence
from sources with patriotic or religious motives. English
merchant sailors, disaffected
4 Geoffrey Parker, The Grand Strategy of Philip II, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 56.
Portuguese, and continental Protestants frequently betrayed
Philip’s plans to the English. Parker
points out that, while this random information was useful to the
English, its providers rarely
understood the contexts of the information being passed-on. For
example, a merchant sailor may
report the presence of a Spanish fleet but could not know its
intentions. To truly cripple Philip’s
plans the English needed to penetrate the Spanish communications
network. Hence, most high-
level correspondence was done in cyphers. Therefore, Elizabeth’s
principle secretary, Sir Francis
Walsingham, maintained a staff of cryptanalysts and as many
informants within the households
of Spain’s prominent political and military figures as possible.5
Arguably the most direct route into study of early modern
covert politics may be found in
5 Parker, The Grand Strategy, 216-7.
works on Francis Walsingham. Sir Francis Walsingham is sometimes
hyperbolically called ‘the
creator of modern espionage’ and has been the subject of at least
five biographies. His name will
appear in almost any study of sixteenth century diplomacy
involving Elizabethan England. A
Puritan, along with many other of her advisors, and present,
himself, at the St. Bartholomew’s
Day Massacre, he preferred relying on merchants and government
envoys for intelligence. One
of his bolder schemes was an attempt to induce the Ottoman
sultan, via an English merchant, to
attack Spain in hopes of focusing its military power as far as
possible from England.6
Walsingham’s biographies usually explain the structure of
the Elizabethan spy network to
6 John Cooper, The Queen’s Agen: Sir Francis Walsingham and the Rise of Espionage in Elizabethan England, (New York: Pegasus, 2013, 176-7.
one degree or another. One of the more accessible in detailing
the darker side of Anglo-Hispanic
relations is John Cooper’s Sir Francis Walsingham and the Rise of Espionage
in Elizabethan
England, which emphasizes Walsingham’s Puritanism and his
conviction that England was in
spiritual combat with the forces of the Antichrist, embodied, of
course, by Catholic monarchies.
By 1586 Walsingham’s intelligence network was so advanced that he
managed to obtain the
plans for the Armada invasion directly from the desk of the
Marques de Santa Cruz, a few days
after Phillip had seen them (possibly from an Englishman posing
as an Italian national via Santa
Cruz’s valet, though the spy’s true identity remains unknown).7
Cooper does a fine job of
7 Cooper, The Queen’s Agent, 296-7; Parker, The Grand Strategy, 217.
explaining how Walsingham’s spy network formed and operated. The
only major drawback of
the work is that he devotes a bit too much space explaining
Elizabethan history. For instance,
while discussing Walsingham’s role in thwarting the Armada is
appropriate, he expends
considerable time describing the details of the Armada campaign.
Occasionally, Cooper seems to
forget the fact that if someone is going to read a book about
Elizabeth’s secretary, they probably
already know some early modern history.
Perhaps the best biography of Walsingham, particularly in
view of international
diplomacy and Anglo-Hispanic relations specifically is Peter
Hutchinson’s Elizabeth’s
Spymaster: Francis Walsingham and the Secret War that Saved England.8 Hutchinson
examines
8 Robert Hutchinson, Elizabeth’s Spymaster: Sir Francis Walsingham and the Secret War that SavedEngland, (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2006).
the dynamics of Walsingham’s espionage work in Spain, not merely
planting agents to collect
information on potential invasions of England, but also using
suspected double-agents to
disseminate disinformation to the Spanish. While Hutchinson
explores the details of
Walsingham’s methodology (and dealing with unprecedented socio-
political situations certainly
required unprecedented methodology (note how we saw above that
Philip’s resort to
communicating in cypher forced Walsingham to develop
cryptanalysis), the background context
of the work emphasizes that there was a sectarian war being
fought, and the most powerful and
threatening enemy was Catholicism embodied by Spanish Empire.
Elizabeth’s Spymaster
contains several appendices, including a fairly extensive list of
Walsingham’s known operatives.
The ultimate resource on Walsingham is the three-volume 1925
Conyers Read
publication (still in print) Mr Secretary Walsingham and the Policy of
Queen Elizabeth.9 Read’s
massive biography is a highly detailed account gathered from the
few original sources that
survive from Walsingham’s personal life (many of his files were
considered unimportant and
destroyed in the Stuart era). For our purposes, here, there is
little analysis of the ‘behind-the-
scenes’ mechanisms of Anglo-Hispanic espionage; his main foci
are, as is apparent from the title,
Elizabeth’s internal centralizing policies, external promotion of
the Reformation, and
Walsingham’s role in these goals. It must be remembered that
Walsingham’s main duty, aside
9 Conyers Read, Mr. Secretary Walsingham and the Policy of Queen Elizabeth, (Harwich Port, MA: Clock & Rose Press, 2003).
from Privy Council affairs, was the protection of Queen
Elizabeth, a task which involved
uncovering threats internally as well as neutralizing threats
from abroad.
The conduit for information moving from England to Spain
generally flowed directly
through the Spanish Embassy as we saw from examining Parker’s
description of Philip’s
information structure. In the study of Anglo-Hispanic espionage
the Spanish ambassador in
London, the first resident embassy outside of Italy, naturally
plays a large role. The most
extensive account of this very influential position comes from a
1935 article by Roger
Merriman.10 The first full-time Spanish ambassador (as opposed to
special-purpose envoys) took
10 Roger Merriman, “The Spanish Embassy in Tudor England,” Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Vol. 65, 1935. 391-400.
up residence in England during the reigns of Ferdinand and
Isabella and Henry VII. A total of
seventeen ambassadors held the position until 1584, when
Bernardino de Mendoza (whom we
shall discuss below) was expelled by Elizabeth… for spying.
Merriman cited Mendoza’s
expulsion as being the first case of ‘diplomatic immunity,’ it
would be more accurate to award
this title to his predecessor, de Spes. Previously, there had
been no rule-of-thumb for the legal
status of ambassadors and envoys, and some had been punished,
even executed, by their host
country. Despite Mendoza’s ‘treasonous’ behavior, which we have
seen was required by his
monarch, Merriman noted (with some apparent amusement) the ironic
situation that the
ambassador’s dispatches to Phillip’s court are a major source of
our knowledge of the events at
Elizabeth’s court in the years immediately preceding the
Armada.11 Merriman reproduces a
fascinating letter from Mendoza to Phillip which illustrates how
murky the line between
‘diplomat’ and ‘spy’ could be, informing him that Elizabeth’s
government was about to deport
its population of English Catholics. To simply exile them to the
continent could be politically
dangerous as they could ally themselves to Catholic nations and
divulge potentially damaging
information—in fact, self-imposed exiles were monitored by
Walsingham’s spies. Therefore
Elizabeth’s government devised a plan to maroon the entire
English Catholic population in
Florida (which essentially could have meant anywhere along the
modern eastern US coast). As
11 Merriman “Spanish Embassy,” 393.
the English saw it, this plan killed two birds with one stone: it
resolved their goal of religious
purity and burdened Phillip with the problem of what to do with
the English Catholics (in the end
the plan collapsed due to the untimely death of its promoter,
Walter Raleigh’s brother, Sir
Humphrey Gilbert).12 Though the actual plan was quite unlikely to
happen, this is the type of
information an early modern ambassador was required to report.
Garrett Mattingly noted in his 1955 work how sixteenth
century sectarianism could create
a mutual suspicion which had the effect of isolating a diplomat
in his host country. Sometimes
dispatches could sound passive-aggressive, referring to the hosts
as ‘heretics’ in one breath and
complaining of being an outcast the next. All of Elizabeth’s
Spanish ambassadors related
12 Merriman, “The Spanish Embassy,” 399-400.
such feelings and it could also be sensed in the writings of
Philip’s representatives, Feria and de
Spes. Mattingly notes how an ambassador from a different side of
the religious divide was
automatically suspect, which, of course, increased the isolation.
Spanish ambassadors in
England, with its population of Catholics and crypto-Catholics,
had a unique situation to
navigate: while tending to over-estimate the Catholic population,
they had no way of judging its
actual number. Their major concern was with who would support a
change in religion,
particularly among the Catholic nobles who resented the rise to
power of men like Cecil and
Walsingham. Mattingly felt that the isolated situation in which
diplomats from a different
religion found themselves exposed them to the temptation to
become conspirators and spies.
Compounded on the isolation and frustration, normal delays in
communication incited Spanish
and English diplomats to take state matters into their own
hands.13 Mattingly’s sympathetic
analysis toward the motivations that drove diplomats toward
covert behavior has no 21st century
historiographical equivalent, though the behavior of the
occasional figure may be re-evaluated.
As we shall below when examining individual cases, Bell’s 1976
revisionist look at the career of
Elizabeth’s last Spanish abbassador, John Man, (whom even
Mattingly seemed to dislike) is the
single instance where the actions of a controversial diplomat are
viewed as anything but bigoted
or treacherous.
Both Spanish and English ambassadors ran the risk of being
expelled from their host
13 Garett Matingly, Renaissance Diplomacy, (New York: Cosimo Classics, 2009), 198-201.
countries. John Man was expelled from Philip’s court in 1568 and
not replaced until the Stuart
era. Most works examined devote a single sentence to Man, usually
including an anecdotal
incident where he, in Catholic Spain, publically referred to the
Pope as a ‘canting little monk,’ In
his single, brief biography, “John Man: The Last Elizabethan
Resident Ambassador in Spain,”14
Gary M. Bell notes that over the centuries Man’s image amongst
historians has shifted
considerably. While early Protestant chroniclers tended to
promote his anti-Catholic reputation,
by the 1960s historians such as Sir John Neale began to
accentuate his supposed ‘misfit’
personality.15 Garrett Mattingly referred to him as an
‘ambassador of ill-will’ and credited him
14 Gary M. Bell, “John Man: The Last Elizabethan Resident Ambassador in Spain,” in Sixteenth Century Journal, Vol. 7, No. 2, 1976, 75-93. 15 John Neale, Queen Elizabeth I, (London: Jonathan Cape, 1966), 179-180.
with contributing to the souring of Anglo-Hispanic relations in
the late 1560s.16 Albert Loomie,
in The Spanish Elizabethans, took a kinder approach, calling him merely
‘unsuitable’ and noting
that he had been accused by the Inquisition of proselytizing.17
Bell’s 1976 defense of Man
observes that all three Elizabethan ambassadors to Spain
contracted severe health problems upon
arrival (both English and Spanish diplomats had trouble adjusting
to the environment) and two,
including Man, died within months of their return. Furthermore,
Bell notes that Man’s assumed
bigotry toward the Spanish may have arose from his social persona
non grata status as a public
heretic.18
16 Garrett Mattingly, Renaissance Diplomacy, 201.17 Albert J. Loomie, The Spanish Elizabethans: The English Exiles at the Court of Philip II, (New York: Fordham University Press, 1963), 100. 18 Bell, John Man, 76-7.
Bell argues that Man was actually the right person for the
job. Under the patronage of
Archbishop Matthew Parker, he possessed the requirements for an
Elizabethan ambassador: he
was multi-lingual, he had traveled, had some university training,
and had diplomatic experience.
An English ambassador also needed some means of self-support, as
the position was meagerly
and intermittently compensated. Furthermore, Elizabeth judged Man
to be a religious moderate;
which was, perhaps, his most suitable quality in a country where
candidates for overseas posts
tended to be rabid Puritans.19 One might compare these to the
ambassadorial requirements in
Philip’s court, mentioned above, where nobility and
military/bureaucratic experience were
required.
19 Bell, John Man, 81-2.
In Bell’s view, Man’s expulsion from Spain in in 1568 was
due to external forces,
particularly Philip’s wish to take a religious stand in the wake
of foreign and domestic uprisings,
and not Man’s personal qualities. Before his expulsion Man had
been forbidden from practicing
his religion and pressured into attending Catholic services.20
There is little evidence that Man, or
his predecessors, were expected to function as spies. Spain never
had another Elizabethan
ambassador. One gets the impression from Bell’s work that this
was due to Spanish (and
Philip’s) souring attitudes toward Protestantism; the Man
incident occurred just as Philip was
having problems in Granada, the Netherlands, and England, and
Man’s expulsion may have been
20 Bell, John Man, 90-1.
a ‘statement’ on Philip’s part. Whatever his reasons were, not
having a channel of
communication with England would cause both countries problems in
the future.
It should be noted that England continued to host Spanish
ambassadors and their retinues
for another sixteen years. Indeed, some are far better known to
historians than Man, likely due to
their presence and probable involvement in multiple dramatic
incidents occurring in the 1570s
and 80s. While English ambassadors in the 1560s may have been
caught-up in religious
conflict, their Spanish equivalents nearly a generation later
added political conflict and intrigue
to the mix.
The Duke of Feria might be called the first Spanish
ambassador to Elizabeth’s court. A
close advisor and confidant of Philip II, he traveled with the
king to England for his marriage to
Mary Tudor (indeed, the duke, himself, married her maid-of-honor,
Lady Jane Dormer, and in
his later years would become an advocate for English Catholic
exiles). When Philip returned to
the continent, Feria remained behind as his representative,
functioning as Philip’s intermediary
through his wife’s illness and death. Feria had been instructed
to convince Mary to name
Elizabeth as her successor as the king was convinced the younger
Tudor would eventually
convert to Catholicism. His predominant task after Elizabeth’s
ascension was to convince her to
marry, Phillip. After informing his king that England had fallen
into the hands of ‘the daughter of
the Devil,’21 Feria was recalled and the ambassador post was
filled by Bishop Alvaro de la
Quadra. Though Spanish nobles generally held diplomatic posts,
one can easily understand
Philip’s logic in appointing churchmen to the court of Europe’s
most notorious heretic. Almost
as an aside, Philip had instructed Quadra to assure English
Catholics of his support, an order he
took seriously enough to begin conspiring with English dissidents
until his intrigues were
interrupted by his death. His replacement, Guzman de Silva,
ambassador through a time of rising
tensions, steered clear of controversy and managed to achieve a
certain popularity amongst his
hosts.22
21 Benton Rain Patterson, With the Heart of a King: Elizabeth I of England, Philip II of Spain and the Fight for a Nation’s Soul and Crown, (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2007), 126. 22 Mattingly, Renaissance Diplomacy, 203.
In the crucial year of 1568 (the last year of an Elizabethan
ambassador to Spain) Philip
replaced the priest Guzman de Silva with the aggressive noble
Greurau de Spes, who gained the
immediate animosity of Elizabeth’s advisors. Though de Spes had
been explicitly ordered to
avoid any intrigue, refrain from involvement with English
Catholics without approval, and
answer to the Duke of Alba in the Netherlands as well as Phillip,
his plotting produced two
international scandals.23
Parker attributes considerable blame for the cold war that
began in 1568 to the
machinations of de Spes. Pay-ships sent from Spain to fund the
Duke of Alba’s campaign against
William of Orange were chased by French pirates into English
ports. De Spes requested that the
23 Parker, “The Place of Tudor England in the Messianic Vision of Phillip II,” in Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, XII, 186.
queen protect the cargo, either by providing escorts to Holland
or moving the money overland to
the Channel. Elizabeth consented to the latter option and the pay
for Alba’s army was hauled
ashore. While the money was in England an English merchant fleet,
commanded by John
Hawkins, sailing with ships lent by the government, was attacked
in the Caribbean by a Spanish
fleet (Spain regarded all non-Spanish traders in the Americas to
be pirates). Elizabeth’s more
aggressive advisors (notably William Cecil) insisted that Alba’s
money be impounded both in
retaliation for the naval attack and to hamper the campaign
against the Protestants in Holland.
Though the English had not resolved the issue amongst themselves,
de Spes informed Philip and
Alba that Elizabeth had confiscated the money and suggested that
English property in Spain and
Holland be impounded in retaliation. Both obliged and Elizabeth
placed de Spes under house
arrest for his remaining time in England.24
While Parker blamed de Spres for the conflict, Read, writing
in the 1930s, was slightly
kinder to him. Though admitting he was likely obnoxious (whereas
his predecessor, de Silva had
been known for his tact), he seems to think the ambassador
actually believed Elizabeth intended
to confiscate the money.25 Strangely, Read speaks of de Spres in
much the same language
(‘bigoted,’ etc.) one usually hears associated with English
ambassador Man, whom he speaks of
as a near martyr to Phillip’s anti-Protestantism.26 In Read’s
view, Elizabeth, at the instigation of
24 Parker, Grand Strategy, 155-156.25 Conyers Read, “Queen Elizabeth’s Seizure of the Duke of Alba’s Pay-ships,” in The Journal of Modern History, Vol. 5, No. 4, Dec. 1933, 443-464.26 Read, “Queen Elizabeth,” 447.
Cecil, intended to seize the money and de Spes’ major blunder was
informing Philip and Alba
before it actually happened, making them appear as the aggressors
and himself as a
manipulator.27 The situation was ultimately resolved after a
diplomatic stand-off when Elizabeth
agreed to pay Philips Italian bankers in installments; money they
were not likely to have
recovered otherwise. Read interprets the final product of this
incident as the point when
Elizabeth ceases to fear Spain.28
While one may give the benefit of the doubt to de Spres as
to whether he truly believed
the English intended to impound Alba’s money, as Read did in the
1930s, or see him as a born
manipulator as Parker relates, his involvement in Ridolfi’s plot
to assassinate Elizabeth and
27 Read, “Queen Elizabeth,” 449.28 Read, “Queen Elizabeth,” 464.
replace her with Mary, Queen of Scots was his downfall.
Though de Spes had been ordered by Philip to notify him
before interacting with English
Catholics this soon ended as he began receiving visits (while
still under house arrest) from
Florentine-born banker Roberto Ridolfi. Ridolfi had spent most of
the 1560s living in London
and had lately began channeling money from the Pope to English
Catholic dissidents. During one
of his visits with de Spres he presented him with the cypher that
was used in communications
between the disaffected English Catholics. Ridolfi claimed to
have a mission, personally
approved by the Pope, to depose Elizabeth and her administrators,
and replace her with Mary,
Queen of Scots. De Spes formulated the plan, dubbing it ‘The
English Enterprise,’ and smuggled
it to Philip, suggesting he initiate a European-wide trade
embargo on England and either support
Mary Stuart or claim the throne himself.29
While Philip was initially inclined to supply the English
Catholics with money and arms,
and considered even invading, he was dissuaded by the non-
interventionist policies of Alba. He
wrote to de Spes, reminding him that he was under the authority
of Alba, yet also demanding he
remain in touch with Ridolfi.30
Rudolfi was arrested, held briefly at Walsingham’s private
home, then mysteriously
released, almost certainly betraying his co-conspirators. De Spes
continued to plot, completely
oblivious to the implications of Ridolfi’s sudden release. In
1571 Ridolfi was granted
29 Parker, “The Place of Tudor England,” 189-90.30 Parker, “The Place of Tudor England,” 191.
an audience by Philip who forwarded his case to his councilors.
They recommended the king
support a revised version of the plan; Elizabeth would be
assassinated causing a general uprising
amongst English Catholics, after which Alba would lead an
invasion from the Netherlands and
Mary, Queen of Scots would be placed upon the throne. Philip
informed de Spes of his
enthusiasm for the plot, but instructed him to wait and make no
moves toward manifesting it.31
The plot was uncovered when one of Rudolfi’s messengers was
arrested with cyphered
letters. After cracking the code, which exposed the involvement
of Mary, Queen of Scots,
multiple English Catholics (including the Duke of Norfolk), and
de Spres, Mary was imprisoned,
31 Parker, ”The Place of Tudor England,” 194-5.
Norfolk and the English Catholics executed, and de Spes was
banished from the country.
An alternative view of the Ridolfi plot was presented by
historian and paleographer
Francis Edwards in the 1960s in the books The Dangerous Queen32 and
The Marvellus Chance:
Thomas Howard, the Fourth Duke of Norfolk, and the Ridolfi Plot33 Edwards
maintained that
neither Mary, nor the Duke of Norfolk wanted to remove Elizabeth.
Furthermore, Spain wanted
to present the appearance of amity toward England. However, the
English queen and her
advisors, Cecil and Walsingham, were committed to Protestantism
and wanted to remove
Catholic threats. Thus, they attempted to suppress domestic
dissent and create a division between
32 Francis Edwards, The Dangerous Queen, (New York: Hillary House Publishers, 1964).33 Francis Edwards, The Marvellous Chance: Thomas Howard, Fourth Duke of Norfolk, and the Ridolfi Plot, 1570-1572, (London: Hart-Davis, 1968).
the Catholic powers of France and Spain. Ridolfi, having been
caught plotting with de Spes and
the English Catholics, presented Cecil and Walsingham with the
perfect opportunity for creating
a complex trap that would give them reason to eliminate their
domestic enemies while making
Spain look complicit.
Edwards was not alone in insisting that Philip bore no ill
will toward Elizabeth. María
José Rodriguez-Salgado, in “Pas ruidosa, guerra sorda,” takes
Philip’s expressions of amity
towards England literally and, unlike Edwards’ 1960s scenario,
does not see his public attitude
towards England as a political façade.34 While she sees the
Ridolfi Plot as the single pre-Armada
34 María José Rodríguez-Salgado, “Pas ruidosa, guerra sorda: Las relaciones deFelipe II e Inglaterra,” in La monarquia de Felipe II a debate, ed. L. Ribot Garcia, Madrid, 2000, 63-119.
exception to this, she finds it more crucial to ‘explain the
peace’35
The final Spanish ambassador to Elizabeth’s court was almost
a replay of de Spes’ tenure
in England. Bernardino Mendoza was Philip’s representative from
1578 to his expulsion in 1584.
Unlike most of Philip’s representatives in England (Feria being a
quite notable exception),
Mendoza was a fairly well-known figure and close to the king.
After de Spes replacement, a
merchant named Antonio Guaras, ran afoul of the law and was
recalled, Philip dispatched
Mendoza, a noble and former subordinate of Alba in the
Netherlands, with explicit instructions
to keep a low profile and sooth the tensions created by his
predecessors.36 At first he performed
35 Rodríguez-Salgado, “Pas ruidosa,” 67. 36 Mattingly, Renassaince Diplomacy, 204.
admirably, but by 1583 he became the central figure in yet
another plot to assassinate Elizabeth,
coordinated with an invasion by the Duke of Guise, and financed
by Philip and the Pope. The
end result, again, would be the ascension of Mary, Queen of Scots
to the English throne. Like the
Ridolfi Plot, the conspiracy unraveled when encoded messages were
discovered being delivered
to France by a messenger.37 Though the Throckmorton Plot is named
after a relatively minor
character, the conspiracy implicated both Philip and the French
Guise dynasty and ultimately
culminated in Mary’s execution. Elizabeth expelled Mendoza,
though Philip, for whom he
remained a confidant, immediately appointed him to the French
embassy and as an unofficial
37 Colin Martin and Geoffrey Parker, The Spanish Armada, (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1999), 76.
Spanish representative to the Duke of Guise and French Catholic
League.38
It is interesting that the study of sixteenth century
espionage in the last one-hundred years
is inseparable from the traditional study of Anglo-Hispanic
diplomacy. With the exception of
Merriman’s 1933 article “The Spanish Embassy in Tudor England”
little work was done in the
area in the first half of the 20th century. Mattingly’s
influential Renaissance Diplomacy appeared
in the 1950s and still remains the broadest and best source for
the study. While he does not fail to
mention the darker and more covert aspects of his topic, he does
not dwell on various “plots,”
either, but, rather, places them in context. It is apparent that
during the 1960s and 70s numerous
38 De Lamar Jensen, Diplomacy and Dogmatism: Bernardino de Mendoza and the French Catholic League, (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1964).
re-evaluations of events and characters appeared, including
Edward’s new interpretation of the
Rudolfi Plot, Bell’s kinder look at the career of John Man,
Loomie’s study of Elizabethan exiles
in Spain, etc. Beginning in the late 1990s, military and Spanish
historian Geoffrey Parker is
certainly the dominant figure in the field, though espionage and
diplomacy are peripheral to his
main interest. While Parker’s Spanish focus opens-up previously
under-appreciated aspects of
Anglo-Hispanic relations (I found his “The Place of Tudor England
in the Messianic Vision of
Philip II” article to be, perhaps, the most interesting part of
this study), he dove-tails quite well
with a resurgence of interest in Elizabeth, Walsingham, and their
intelligence network.
To conclude this paper, I will examine the elephant-in-the-
room for Spanish-Elizabethan
relations. As it has little to do with diplomacy (after 1584
Spain and England did not exchange
diplomats) and much to do with the popular idea of “espionage,” I
have saved discussing
pre-Armada spying for last.
Sir Edward Stafford is perhaps the most dominant figure in
the subterfuge leading toward
the failed Armada invasion. Son of Mary Boleyn, therefore a
relative of the Queen’s, he filled
the English ambassador post in Paris. As noted above, Elizabethan
ambassadors were expected
to have the means to support themselves, and Stafford not only
had squandered his inheritance,
but had embezzled money Elizabeth had sent to assist French
Protestants. In desperation Stafford
offered his services to the Spanish ambassador in Paris—
Bernardino Mendoza. He not only
supplied Mendoza with a constant stream of vital information
concerning naval maneuvers and
raids by Drake, but sent disinformation directly to Walsingham.39
Stafford, as an ambassador,
was in the position to send crucial information to London
concerning Philip’s military
preparations, yet his dispatches concentrated mostly on the
hostilities of the French. His rare
communications concerning Spain put Philip and his intentions in
the best possible light,
claiming the Armada campaign had been abandoned or it was bound
for Africa or the Indies.
Fortunately, Walsingham had other operatives in Paris that proved
more consistent and
contradicted Stafford.40
Arguments over whether Stafford was working for the Spanish
or was an English double-
39 Martin & Parker, The Spanish Armada, 106-8.40 Parker, Grand Strategy, 221-3.
agent began in 1915 with an article by Conyers Read implying
that, not only was Stafford in the
pay of Mendoza, but was guilty of high treason.41 J.E. Neale
responded 14 years later, claiming
there is little evidence against Stafford as he used aliases, too
much emphasis was put on his
financial desperation, and he was most likely feeding Mendoza,
Guise, and English dissidents
disinformation in order to extract information.42 Read responded
a year later, emphasizing that
much of the evidence against Stafford came from Mendoza, and
furthermore, Walsingham took
little interest in him as his own Parisian spies discounted him,
accusing him of giving
information to Guise and English Catholic dissidents. Read
dismisses Neale’s theory that
41 Conyers Read, “The Fame of Sir Edward Stafford,” in The American Historical Review,Vol. 20, No. 2, 1915, 292-313.42 J.E. Neale, “The Fame of Sir Edward Stafford,” The English Historical Review,” Vol. 44, No. 174, 1929, 303-319.
Stafford traded disinformation for real information as pure
speculation, and notes that Mendoza
knew much more about English affairs than Stafford knew about
Spanish affairs. Furthermore,
he observes that Walsingham was his English contact, distrusted
him, and gave him little, and
likely inaccurate, information. Neale, Read claimed, assumed that
when Stafford gave Mendoza
wrong information, it was intentional.43
Sixty-Six years later Mitchell Leimon and Geoffrey Parker
responded to Neale and Read
in “Treason and Plot in Elizabethan Diplomacy: The Fame of Sir
Edward Stafford
Reconsidered.”44 They begin the article by claiming ‘apostolic
succession’ from their early 20th
43 Conyers Read, “The Fame of Sir Edward Stafford,” The American Historical Review Vol. 35, No. 3, 1930, 60-6.44 Mitchell Liemon and Geoffrey Parker, “Treason and Plot in Elizabethan Diplomacy: The Fame of Sir Edward Stafford Reconsidered,” in The English Historical Review, Vol. 111, No. 444, 1996, 1134-1158.
century counterparts and decrying the fact that Stafford known
only for his eight years as a
diplomat/spy, and information on his life is confined to state
documents and historians arguing
over whether he was a secret agent, double-agent, or innocent
impoverished nobleman. Leimon
and Parker then proceed to construct a highly detailed micro-
historical biography of Stafford.
Aside from the details of his family, youth, and rise to the
status of professional diplomat, we
also learn the details of Walsinghams professional behavior,
making sure he controlled foreign
ambassadors and selecting staff he was assured were loyal to him
above all. The authors suggest
that after Philip expelled John Man Walsingham was forced to
innovate information channels,
hence, the germ of his spy network. From here they smoothly segue
into Stafford’s dealings with
Walsingham in great detail (the authors neglect to mention that
Walsingham once held Staford’s
post as Frence Ambassador). The issues Stafford faced as
ambassador are explored, as is his
decline as he began to face charges for dealing with Catholic
interests.45
Leimon and Parker then turn to Mondoza, who revealed that he
had expected to
collaborate with Stafford, as he knew he had been sharing
information with Guise and French
Catholics, contacting Philip to arrange payment. The authors make
no judgement on whether the
occasional false information Stafford provided was intentional,
though they express no doubt he
was treasonous; the degree of contact he had with the Spanish
ambassador must have made him
45 Leimon and Parker, “Treason and Plot,” 1134-1138.
privy to Philip’s plans, but these are never dispatched to
London. Rather he dispatches
testimonials to Philip’s character and constant assurances the
Armada has been disbanded. Upon
the failure of the invasion Stafford’s visits to Mendoza became
less frequent.46
Leimon and Parker discuss the motivations of Stafford at
great lengths and conclude that
he was moved by financial desperation at first, but that evolved
into fears of disgrace and
retaliation by Walsingham and Elizabeth. Philip him little for
the quality of information he
received; mainly to keep him coming back, as it were.47
The change in the historiographic approaches between the
earliest discourse of Neale and
Read and the micro-historical analysis of Leimon and Parker is
drastic. While the former pair
46 Leimon and Parker, “Treason and Plot,” 1138-1156.47 Leimon and Parker, “Treason and Plot,” 1157.
discuss issues which essentially can be reduced to Stafford’s
potentially treasonous behavior, the
latter are more concerned with his psychological make-up,
background, relationships to those
around him and, most of all, his motivations.
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