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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.

Espionage and Diplomacy in the Reigns of Elizabeth I and Phillip II: A Historiographic Survey

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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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