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    <Metadata name="Content">biography of Queen Elizabeth I (1533-1603) by Edward Spencer Beesly, 1892</Metadata>
    <Metadata name="Page_topic">biography of Queen Elizabeth I (1533-1603) by Edward Spencer Beesly, 1892</Metadata>
    <Metadata name="Author">Marilee Mongello</Metadata>
    <Metadata name="Title">Secondary Sources: Queen Elizabeth by Edward Spencer Beesly, 1892: Chapter VI</Metadata>
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    &lt;p align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;7&quot;&gt;Queen Elizabeth&lt;br&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/b&gt;
    &lt;font size=&quot;4&quot;&gt;by Edward Spencer Beesly, 1892&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;
    &lt;img border=&quot;2&quot; src=&quot;_httpdocimg_/eliz1-ermine.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; height=&quot;478&quot; alt=&quot;'The Ermine Portrait' of Elizabeth I, c1585, by Nicholas Hilliard&quot;&gt;&lt;p align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;
    &lt;i&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot;&gt;'The Ermine Portrait' of Elizabeth I, c1585, by Nicholas 
    Hilliard;&lt;br&gt;from the &lt;a href=&quot;_httpextlink_&amp;amp;rl=0&amp;amp;href=http:%2f%2fwww.marileecody.com%2feliz1-images.html&quot;&gt;Portraits of Queen Elizabeth I&lt;/a&gt; website&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;
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    &lt;font style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif&quot;&gt;
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    &lt;div align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;
      &lt;b&gt;CHAPTER VI&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;
      &lt;b&gt;FOREIGN AFFAIRS : 1572-1583&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;THE year 1572 witnessed two events of capital 
    importance in European history: the rising in the Netherlands, which 
    resulted in the establishment of the Dutch Republic (April); and the 
    massacre of St. Bartholomew, which marked the decisive rejection of 
    Protestantism by France (August). &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;In the beginning of that year--a few weeks 
    before the proceedings in Parliament just narrated--Elizabeth had at last 
    concluded the defensive alliance with France for which she had been so long 
    negotiating (19 April). It cannot be too often repeated that this was the 
    corner-stone of her foreign policy. For the sake of its superior importance 
    she had abstained from the interference in Scotland which her Ministers were 
    always urging. The more she interfered there the more she would have to 
    interfere, till it would end in her having a rebellious province on her 
    hands in addition to the hostility of both France and Spain; whereas an 
    alliance with France would give her security on all sides, Scotland 
    included. In the treaty it was agreed that if either country were invaded 
    &amp;quot;under any pretence or cause, none excepted,&amp;quot; the other should send 6000 
    troops to its assistance. This was accompanied with an explanation, in the 
    King's handwriting, that &amp;quot;any cause &amp;quot; included religion. The article 
    relating to Scotland is not less significant. The two sovereigns &amp;quot;shall make 
    no innovations in Scotland, but defend it against foreigners, not suffering 
    strangers to enter, or foment the factions in Scotland; but it shall be 
    lawful for the Queen of England to chastise by arms the Scots who shall 
    countenance the English rebels now in Scotland.&amp;quot; Mary was not mentioned. 
    France therefore tacitly renounced her cause. Immediately after the 
    conclusion of the treaty Charles IX. formally proposed a marriage between 
    Elizabeth and his youngest brother, Alençon. This proposal she managed to 
    encourage and elude for eleven years. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;It was just at this moment that the seizure 
    of Brill by some Dutch rovers, who had taken refuge on the sea from the 
    cruelty of Alva, caused most of the towns of Holland and Zealand to blaze 
    into rebellion (1 April). Thus began the great war of liberation, which was 
    to last thirty-seven years. The Protestant party in England hailed the 
    revolt with enthusiasm. Large subscriptions were made to assist it, and 
    volunteers poured across to take part in the struggle. Charles IX. and his 
    mother, full of schemes of conquest in the Netherlands, urged Elizabeth to 
    join them in a war against Philip. But, with a sagacity and self-restraint 
    which do her infinite honour, she refused to be drawn beyond the lines laid 
    down in the recent defensive alliance. Security, economy, fructification of 
    the tax-payers' money in the tax-payers' pocket--such were the guiding 
    principles of her policy. She was not to be dragged into dangerous 
    enterprises either ambitious or Quixotic. Schemes for the partition of the 
    Netherlands were laid before her. Zealand, it was said, would indemnify her 
    for Calais. What Englishman with any common sense does not now see that she 
    was right to reject the bribe? &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;To Elizabeth no rebellion against a 
    legitimate sovereign could be welcome in itself. Since Philip was so 
    possessed by religious bigotry as to be dangerous to all Protestant States, 
    she was not sorry that he should wear out his crusading ardour in the 
    Netherlands; and she was ready to give just as much assistance to the Dutch, 
    in an underhand way, as would keep him fully occupied without bringing a 
    declaration of war upon herself. But she would have vastly preferred that he 
    should repress Catholic and Protestant fanatics alike, and get along quietly 
    with the mass of his subjects as his father had done before him. Charles IX. 
    was eager to strike in if she would join him. Those who blame her so 
    severely for her refusal seem to forget that a French conquest of the 
    Netherlands would have been far more dangerous to this country than their 
    possession by Spain. To keep them out of French hands has indeed been the 
    traditional policy of England during the whole of modern history. &lt;/font&gt;
    &lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;But, it is said, such a war would have 
    clinched the alliance recently patched up between the French court and the 
    Huguenots; there would have been no Bartholomew Massacre; &amp;quot;on Elizabeth 
    depended at that moment whether the French Government would take its place 
    once for all on the side of the Reformation.&amp;quot; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Whether it would have been for the advantage 
    of European progress in the long-run that France should settle down into 
    Calvinism, I will forbear to inquire. Fortunately for the immediate 
    interests of England, Elizabeth understood the situation in France better 
    than some of her critics do, even with the results before their eyes. The 
    Huguenots were but a small fraction of the nation. Whatever importance they 
    possessed they derived from their rank, their turbulence, and the ambition 
    of their leaders. In a few towns of the south and south-west they formed a 
    majority of the population. But everywhere else they were mostly noblemen, 
    full of the arrogance and reckless valour of their class, anything but 
    puritans in their morals, and ready to destroy the unity of the kingdom for 
    political no less than for religious objects. They had been losing ground 
    for several years. The mass of the people abhorred their doctrines, and 
    protested against any concession to their pretensions. Charles and his 
    mother were absolutely careless about religion. Their feud with the Guises 
    and their designs on the Netherlands had led them to invite the Huguenot 
    chiefs to court, and so to give them a momentary influence in shaping the 
    policy of France. It was with nothing more solid to lean on than this 
    ricketty and short-lived combination that Burghley and Walsingham were eager 
    to launch England into a war with the most powerful monarchy in Europe.
    &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;The massacre of St. Bartholomew (24 August) 
    was a rude awakening from these dreams. That thunderclap did not show that, 
    in signing the treaty with England and in proposing an attack on Philip, the 
    French Government had been playing a treacherous game all along, in order to 
    lure the Huguenots to the shambles. But it did show that when the Catholic 
    sentiment in France was thoroughly roused, the dynasty itself must bend 
    before it or be swept away. England might help the Huguenots to keep up a 
    desultory and harassing civil war; she could no more enable them to control 
    the policy of the French nation and wield its force, than she could at the 
    present day restore the Bourbons or Bonapartes. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;The first idea of Elizabeth and her 
    ministers, on receiving the news of the massacre, naturally was that the 
    French Government had been playing them false from the first, that the 
    Catholic League for the extirpation of heresy in Europe, which had been so 
    much talked of since the Bayonne interview in 1565, was after all a reality, 
    and that England might expect an attack from the combined forces of Spain 
    and France. Thanks to the prudent policy of Elizabeth, England was in a far 
    better position to meet all dangers than she had been in 1565. The fleet was 
    brought round to the Downs. The coast was guarded by militia. An expedition 
    was organised to co-operate with the Dutch insurgents. Money was sent to the 
    Prince of Orange. Huguenot refugees were allowed to fit out a flotilla to 
    assist their co-religionists in Rochelle. The Scotch Regent Mar was 
    informed, with great secrecy, that if he would demand the extradition of 
    Mary, and undertake to punish her capitally for her husband's murder, she 
    should be given up to him. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;A few weeks sufficed to show that there was 
    no reason for panic. Confidence, indeed, between the French and English 
    Governments had been severely shaken. Each stood suspiciously on its guard. 
    But the alliance was too well grounded in the interests of both parties to 
    be lightly cast aside. The French ambassador was instructed to excuse and 
    deplore the massacre as best he could, and to press on the Alençon marriage. 
    Elizabeth, dressed in deep mourning, gave him a stiff reception, but let him 
    see her desire to maintain the alliance. The massacre did not restore the 
    ascendancy of the Guises. To the Huguenots, as religious reformers, it gave 
    a blow from which they did not recover. But as a political faction they were 
    not crushed. Nay, their very weakness became their salvation, since it 
    compelled them to fall into the second rank behind the &lt;i&gt;Politiques&lt;/i&gt;, 
    the true party of progress, who were before long to find a victorious leader 
    in Henry of Navarre. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Philip, for his part, was equally far from 
    any thought of a crusade against England. Sir Humphrey Gilbert, commanding 
    several companies of English volunteers, with the hardly concealed sanction 
    of his government, was fighting against the Spaniards in Walcheren and 
    hanging all his prisoners. Sir John Hawkins, with twenty ships, had sailed 
    to intercept the Mexican treasure fleet. Yet Alva, though gnashing his 
    teeth, was obliged to advise his master to swallow it all, and to be 
    thankful if he could get Elizabeth to reopen commercial intercourse, which 
    had been prohibited on both sides since the quarrel about the Genoese 
    treasure. A treaty for this purpose was in fact concluded early in 1573. 
    Thus the chief result of the Bartholomew Massacre, as far as Elizabeth was 
    concerned, was to show how strong her position was, and that she had no need 
    either to truckle to Catholics or let her hand be forced by Protestants. A 
    balance of power on the Continent was what suited her, as it has generally 
    suited this country. Let her critics say what they will, it was no business 
    of hers to organise a Protestant league, and so drive the Catholic 
    sovereigns to sink their mutual jealousies and combine against the common 
    enemy. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;The Scotch Regent was quite ready to 
    undertake the punishment of Mary, but only on condition that Elizabeth would 
    send the Earl of Bedford or the Earl of Huntingdon with an army to be 
    present at the execution and to take Edinburgh Castle. It need hardly be 
    said that there was also a demand for money. Mar died during the 
    negotiations, but they were continued by his successor Morton. Elizabeth was 
    determined to give no open consent to Mary's execution. She meant, no doubt, 
    as soon as it should be over, to protest, as she did fifteen years 
    afterwards, that there had been an unfortunate mistake, and to lay the blame 
    of it on the Scotch Government and her own agents. This part of the 
    negotiation therefore came to nothing. But money was sent to Morton, which 
    enabled him to establish a blockade of Edinburgh Castle, and by the 
    mediation of Elizabeth's ambassador, the Hamiltons, Gordons, and all the 
    other Marians except those in the Castle, accepted the very favourable terms 
    offered them, and recognised James. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;All that remained was to reduce the Castle. 
    Its defenders numbered less than two hundred men. The city and the 
    surrounding country were--as far as preaching and praying went--vehemently 
    anti-Marian. The Regent had now no other military task on his hands. 
    Elizabeth might well complain when she was told that unless she sent an army 
    and paid the Scotch Protestants to co-operate with it, the Castle could not 
    be taken. For some time she resisted this thoroughly Scotch demand. But at 
    last she yielded to Morton's importunity. Sir William Drury marched in from 
    Berwick, did the job, and marched back again (May 1573). Among the captives 
    were the brilliant Maitland of Lethington, once the most active of 
    Anglophiles, and Kirkaldy of Grange, who had begun the Scottish Reformation 
    by the murder of Cardinal Beaton, and had taken Mary prisoner at Carberry 
    Hill. A politician who did not turn his coat at least once in his life was a 
    rare bird in Scotland. Maitland died a few days after his capture, probably 
    by his own hand. Kirkaldy was hanged by his old friend Morton. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;By taking Edinburgh Castle Elizabeth did not 
    earn any gratitude from the party who had called her in. What they wanted, 
    and always would want, was money. Morton himself, treading in the steps of 
    his old leader Moray, remained an unswerving Anglophile. But his coadjutors 
    told the English ambassador plainly that, if they could not get money from 
    England, they could and would earn it from France. Elizabeth's councillors 
    were always teasing her to comply with these impudent demands. If there had 
    been a grown-up King on the throne, a man with a will of his own, and whose 
    right to govern could not be contested, it might have been worth while to 
    secure his good-will by a pension; and this was what Elizabeth did when 
    James became real ruler of the country. But she did not believe in paying a 
    clique of greedy lords to call themselves the English party. An English 
    party there was sure to be, if only because there was a French party. Their 
    services would be neither greater nor smaller whether they were paid or 
    unpaid. The French poured money into Scotland, and were worse served than 
    Elizabeth, who kept her money in her treasury. It was no fault of Elizabeth 
    if the conditions of political life in Scotland during the King's minority 
    were such that a firmly established government was in the nature of things 
    impossible. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;As Mary was kept in strict seclusion during 
    the panic that followed on the Bartholomew Massacre, she did not know how 
    narrow was her escape from a shameful death on a Scottish scaffold. When the 
    panic subsided she was allowed to resume her former manner of life as the 
    honoured guest of Lord Shrewsbury, with full opportunities for communication 
    with all her friends at home and abroad. Any alarm she had felt speedily 
    disappeared. If Elizabeth had for a moment contemplated striking at her life 
    or title by parliamentary procedure, that intention was evidently abandoned 
    when the Parliament of 1572 was prorogued without any such measure becoming 
    law. The public assumed, and rightly, that Elizabeth still regarded the 
    Scottish Queen as her successor. Peter Wentworth in the next session (1576) 
    asserted, and probably with truth, that many who had been loud in their 
    demands for severity repented of their forwardness when they found that Mary 
    might yet be their Queen, and tried to make their peace with her. 
    Wentworth's outburst (for which he was sent to the Tower) was the only 
    demonstration against Mary in that session. She told the Archbishop of 
    Glasgow that her prospects had never been better, and when opportunities for 
    secret escape were offered her she declined to use them, thinking that it 
    was for her interest to remain in England. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;The desire of the English Queen to reinstate 
    her rival arose principally from an uneasy consciousness that, by detaining 
    her in custody, she was fatally impairing that religious respect for 
    sovereigns which was the main, if not the only, basis of their power. The 
    scaffold of Fotheringay was, in truth, the prelude to the scaffold of 
    Whitehall. But as year succeeded year, and Elizabeth became habituated to 
    the situation which had at first given her such qualms, she could not shut 
    her eyes to the fact that, troublesome and even dangerous as Mary's presence 
    in England was, the trouble and the danger had been very much greater when 
    she was seated on the Scottish throne. The seething caldron of Scotch 
    politics had not, indeed, become a negligible quantity. It required 
    watching. But experience had shown that, while the King was a child, the 
    Scots were neither valuable as friends nor formidable as foes. This was a 
    truth quite as well understood at Paris and Madrid as at London, though the 
    French, no less keen in those days than they are now to maintain that 
    shadowy thing called &amp;quot;legitimate French influence&amp;quot; in countries with which 
    they had any historical connection, continued to intrigue and waste their 
    money among the hungry Scotch nobles. It was a fixed principle with 
    Elizabeth, as with all English statesmen, not to tolerate the presence of 
    foreign troops in Scotland. But she believed--and her belief was justified 
    by events-that a French expedition was not the easy matter it had been when 
    Mary of Guise was Regent of Scotland and Mary Tudor Queen of England. And, 
    more important still, in spite of much treachery and distrust, the French 
    and English Governments were bound together by a treaty which was equally 
    necessary to each of them. Scotland, therefore, was no longer such a cause 
    of anxiety to Elizabeth as it had been during the first ten years of her 
    reign. Her ministers had neither her coolness nor her insight. Yet modern 
    historians, proud of having unearthed their croaking criticisms, ask us to 
    judge Elizabeth's policy by prognostications which turned out to be false 
    rather than by the known results which so brilliantly justified it. &lt;/font&gt;
    &lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;How to deal with the Netherlands was a much 
    more complicated and difficult problem. Here again Elizabeth's ministers 
    were for carrying matters with a high hand. In their view, England was in 
    constant danger of a Spanish invasion, which could only be averted by openly 
    and vigorously supporting the revolted provinces. They would have had 
    Elizabeth place herself at the head of a Protestant league, and dare the 
    worst that Philip could do. She, on the other hand, believed that every year 
    war could be delayed was so much &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;gained for England. There were many ways in 
    which she could aid the Netherlands without openly challenging Philip. A 
    curious theory of international relations prevailed in those days--an 
    English Prime Minister, by the way, found it convenient not long ago to 
    revive it--according to which, to carry on warlike operations against 
    another country was a very different thing from going to war with that 
    country. Of this theory Elizabeth largely availed herself. English generals 
    were not only allowed, but encouraged, to raise regiments of volunteers to 
    serve in the Low Countries. When there, they reported to the English 
    Government, and received instructions from it with hardly a pretence of 
    concealment. Money was openly furnished to the Prince of Orange. English 
    fleets-also nominally of volunteers--were encouraged to prey on Spanish 
    commerce, Elizabeth herself subscribing to their outfit and sharing in the 
    booty. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;We are not to suppose, because the revolt of 
    the Netherlands crippled Philip for any attack on England, that Elizabeth 
    welcomed it, or that she contemplated the prolongation of the struggle with 
    cold-blooded satisfaction. Its immediate advantage to this country was 
    obvious. But Elizabeth had a sincere abhorrence of war and disorder. She was 
    equally provoked with Philip for persecuting the Dutch Protestants into 
    rebellion, and with the Dutch for insisting on religious concessions which 
    Philip could not be expected to grant, and which she herself was not 
    granting to Catholics in England. At any time during the struggle, if Philip 
    would have guaranteed liberty of conscience (as distinguished from liberty 
    of public worship), the restoration of the old charters, and the removal of 
    the Spanish troops, Elizabeth would not only have withheld all help from the 
    Dutch, but would have put pressure on them to submit to Philip. The presence 
    of Spanish veterans opposite the mouth of the Thames was a standing menace 
    to England. &amp;quot;As they are there,&amp;quot; argued Burghley, we must help the Dutch to 
    keep them employed. &amp;quot;If the Dutch were not such impracticable fanatics,&amp;quot; 
    rejoined Elizabeth, &amp;quot;the Spanish veterans need not be there at all.&amp;quot; &lt;/font&gt;
    &lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;The &amp;quot;Pacification of Ghent&amp;quot; (November 1576), 
    by which the Belgian Netherlands, for a short time, made common cause with 
    Holland and Zealand, relieved Elizabeth, for a time, from the necessity of 
    taking any decisive step. Philip was still recognised as sovereign, but he 
    was required to be content with such powers as the old constitution gave 
    him. It seemed likely that Catholic bigots would have to give up 
    persecuting, and Protestant bigots to acquiesce in the official 
    establishment of the old religion. This was precisely the settlement 
    Elizabeth had always desired. It would get rid of the Spanish troops. It 
    would keep out the French. It would relieve her from the necessity of 
    interfering. If it put some restriction on the open profession of Calvinism 
    she would not be sorry. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;If this arrangement could have been carried 
    out, would it in the long-run have been for the benefit of Europe? Those who 
    hold that the conflict between Protestantism and Catholicism was simply a 
    conflict between truth and falsehood will, of course, have no difficulty in 
    giving their answer. Others may hold that freedom of conscience was all that 
    was needed at the time, and they may picture the many advantages which 
    Europe would have reaped during the last three centuries from the existence 
    of a united Netherlands, independent, as it must soon have become, of Spain, 
    and able to make its independence respected by its neighbours. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Short-lived as the coalition was destined to 
    be, it secured for the Dutch a breathing-time when they were most sorely 
    pressed, and enabled Elizabeth to avoid quarrelling with Spain. The first 
    step of the newly allied States was to apply to her for assistance and a 
    loan of money. The loan they obtained-£40,000--a very large sum in those 
    days. But she earnestly advised them that if the new Governor, Don John of 
    Austria, would accept the Pacification, they should use the money to pay the 
    arrears of the Spanish troops; otherwise they would refuse to leave the 
    country for Don John or any one else. This was done. Don John had treachery 
    in his heart. But the departure of the Spaniards was a solid gain; and if 
    the Protestants and Catholics of the Netherlands had been able to tolerate 
    each other, they would have achieved the practical independence of their 
    country, and achieved it by their own unaided efforts. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;But Don John, the crusader, the victor of 
    Lepanto, the half-brother of Philip, was a man of soaring ambition. His 
    dream was to invade England, marry the Queen of Scots, and seat himself with 
    her on the English throne. It was in vain that Philip, who never wavered in 
    his desire to conciliate Elizabeth, and was jealous of his showy brother, 
    had strictly enjoined him to leave England alone. He persisted in his 
    design, and sent his confidant Escovedo to persuade Philip that to conquer 
    the Netherlands it was necessary to begin by conquering England. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;For a pair of determined enemies, Elizabeth 
    and Philip were just now upon most amicable, not to say affectionate, terms. 
    She knew well that he had incited assassins to take her life, and that 
    nothing would at any time give him greater pleasure than to hear that one of 
    them had succeeded. But she bore him no malice for that. She took it all in 
    the way of business, and intended, for her part, to go on robbing and 
    damaging him in every way she could short of going to war. Philip bore it 
    all meekly. Alva himself insisted that he could not afford to quarrel with 
    her. Diplomatic relations by means of resident ambassadors, which had been 
    broken off by the expulsion of De Espes in 1571, were resumed; and English 
    heretics in the prisons of the Inquisition were released in spite of the 
    outcries of the Grand Inquisitor. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;In the summer of 1557 it seemed as if Don 
    John's restless ambition would interrupt this pacific policy which suited 
    both monarchs. He had sent for the Spanish troops again. He was known to be 
    projecting an invasion of England. He was said to have a promise of help 
    from Guise. Elizabeth's ministers, as usual, believed that she was on the 
    brink of ruin, and implored her to send armies both to the Netherlands and 
    to France. But she refused to be hustled into any precipitate action, and 
    reasons soon appeared for maintaining an expectant attitude. The treaty of 
    Bergerac between Henry III. and Henry of Navarre (September 1557) showed 
    once more that the French King had no intention of letting the Huguenots be 
    crushed. The invitation of the Archduke Matthias by the Belgian nobles 
    showed that they were deeply jealous of English interference. Here, surely, 
    was matter for reflection. The most Elizabeth could be got to do was to 
    become security for a loan of £100,000 to the States, on condition that 
    Matthias should leave the real direction of affairs to William of Orange, 
    and to promise armed assistance (January 1578). At the same time she 
    informed Philip that she was obliged to do this for her own safety; that she 
    had no desire to contest his sovereignty of the Netherlands; on the 
    contrary, she would help him to maintain it if he would govern reasonably; 
    but he ought to remove Don John, who was her mortal enemy, and to appoint 
    another Governor of his own family; in other words, Matthias. Her policy 
    could not have been more candidly set forth, and Philip showed his 
    disapproval of Don John's designs in a characteristic way--by causing 
    Escovedo to be assassinated. Don John himself died in the autumn, of a fever 
    brought on by disappointment, or, as some thought, of a complaint similar to 
    Escovedo's (September 1578). &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;When Elizabeth feared that Don John's scheme 
    was countenanced by his brother, she had risked an open rupture by promising 
    to send an army to the Netherlands. The murder of Escovedo and the arrival 
    of the Spanish ambassador Mendoza (March 1578) reassured her. Philip was 
    evidently pacific to the point of tameness. Instead, therefore, of sending 
    an English army, she preferred to pay John Casimir, the Count Palatine, to 
    lead a German army to the assistance of the States. As far as military 
    strength went, they were probably no losers by the change. But what they 
    wanted was to see Elizabeth committed to open war with Philip, and that was 
    just what she desired to avoid. Indirect and underhand blows she was 
    prepared to deal him, for she knew by experience that he would put up with 
    them. Thus in the preceding autumn she had despatched Drake on his famous 
    expedition to the South Pacific. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Don John was succeeded by his nephew, 
    Alexander of Parma. The fine prospects of the revolted provinces were now 
    about to be dashed. In the arts which smooth over difficulties and 
    conciliate opposition, Parma had few equals. He was a head and shoulders 
    above all contemporary generals; and no soldiers of that time were 
    comparable to his Spanish and Italian veterans. When he assumed the command, 
    he was master of only a small corner of the Low Countries. What he effected 
    is represented by their present division between Belgians and Dutch. The 
    struggle in the Netherlands continued, therefore, to be the principal object 
    of Elizabeth's attention. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Shortly before the death of Don John, the 
    Duke of Alençon, (1) brother and heir-presumptive of Henry III. had been 
    invited by the Belgian nobles to become their Protector, and Orange, in his 
    anxiety for union, had accepted their nominee. Alençon was to furnish 12,000 
    French troops. It was hoped and believed that, though Henry had ostensibly 
    disapproved of his brother's action, he would in the end give him open 
    support, thus resuming the enterprise which had been interrupted six years 
    before by the Bartholomew Massacre. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Now, how was Elizabeth to deal with this new 
    combination? The Protectorship of Alençon might bring on annexation to 
    France, the result which most of all she wished to avoid. For a moment she 
    thought of offering her own protection (which Orange would have much 
    preferred), and an army equal to that promised by Alençon. But upon further 
    reflection, she determined to adhere to the policy of not throwing down the 
    glove to Philip, and to try whether she could not put Alençon in harness, 
    and make him do her work. One means of effecting this would be to allow him 
    subsidies--the means employed on such a vast scale by Pitt in our wars with 
    Napoleon. But Elizabeth intended to spend as little as possible in this way. 
    She relied chiefly on a revival of the marriage comedy--now to be played 
    positively for the last time; the lady being forty-five, and her wooer 
    twenty-four. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;A dignified policy it certainly was not. All 
    that was ridiculous and repulsive in her coquetry with Henry had now to be 
    repeated and outdone with his younger brother. To overcome the incredulity 
    which her previous performances had produced, she was obliged to exaggerate 
    her protestations, to admit a personal courtship, to simulate amorous 
    emotion, and to go through a tender pantomime of kisses and caresses. But 
    Elizabeth never let dignity stand in the way of business. What to most women 
    would have been an insupportable humiliation did not cost her a pang. She 
    even found amusement in it. From the nature of the case, she could not take 
    one of her counsellors into her confidence. There was no chance of imposing 
    upon foreigners unless she could persuade those about her that she was in 
    earnest. They were amazed that she should run the risk of establishing the 
    French in the Netherlands. She had no intention of doing so. When Philip 
    should be brought so low as to be willing to concede a constitutional 
    government, she could always throw her weight on his side and get rid of the 
    French. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;The match with Alençon had been proposed six 
    years before. It had lately slumbered. But there was no difficulty in 
    whistling him back, and making it appear that the renewed overture came from 
    his side. After tedious negotiations, protracted over twelve months, he at 
    length paid his first visit to Elizabeth ( August 1579). He was an 
    under-sized man with an over-sized head, villainously ugly, with a face 
    deeply seamed by smallpox, a nose ending in a knob that made it look like 
    two noses, and a croaking voice. Elizabeth's liking for big handsome men is 
    well known. But as she had not the least intention of marrying Alençon, it 
    cost her nothing to affirm that she was charmed with his appearance, and 
    that he was just the sort of man she could fancy for a husband. The only 
    agreeable thing about him was his conversation, in which he shone, so that 
    people who did not thoroughly know him always at first gave him credit for 
    more ability than he possessed. Elizabeth, who had a pet name for all 
    favourites, dubbed him her &amp;quot;frog&amp;quot;; and &amp;quot;Grenouille&amp;quot; he was fain to subscribe 
    himself in his love-letters. This first visit was a short one, and he went 
    away hopeful of success. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;The English people could only judge by 
    appearances, and for the first time in her reign Elizabeth was unpopular. 
    The Puritan Stubbs published his &lt;i&gt;Discovery of a Gaping Gulf wherein 
    England is like to be swallowed by another French Marriage&lt;/i&gt;. But the 
    excitement was by no means confined to the Puritans. Hatred of Frenchmen 
    long remained a ruling sentiment with most Englishmen. Elizabeth vented her 
    rage on Stubbs, who had been so rude as to tell her that childbirth at her 
    age would endanger her life. He was sentenced to have his hand cut off. &amp;quot;I 
    remember,&amp;quot; says Camden, &amp;quot;being then present, that Stubbs, after his right 
    hand was cut off, put off his hat with his left, and said with a loud voice, 
    'God save the Queen.' The multitude standing about was deeply silent.&amp;quot;
    &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Not long after Alençon's visit, a treaty of 
    marriage was signed (November 1579), with a proviso that two months should 
    be allowed for the Queen's subjects to become reconciled to it. If, at the 
    end of that time, Elizabeth did not ratify the treaty, it was to be null and 
    void. The appointed time came and went without ratification. Burghley, as 
    usual, predicted that the jilted suitor would become a deadly enemy, and 
    drew an alarming picture of the dangers that threatened England, with the 
    old exhortation to his mistress to form a Protestant league and subsidise 
    the Scotch Anglophiles. But in 1572 she had slipped out of the Anjou 
    marriage, and yet secured a French alliance. She confided in her ability to 
    play the same game now. Though she had not ratified the marriage treaty, she 
    continued to correspond with Alençon and keep up his hopes, urging him at 
    the same time to lead an army to the help of the States. This, however, he 
    was unwilling to do till he had secured the marriage. The French King was 
    ready, and even eager, to back his brother. But he, too, insisted on the 
    marriage, and that Elizabeth should openly join him in war against Spain.
    &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;In the summer of 1580, Philip conquered 
    Portugal, thus not only rounding off his Peninsular realm, but acquiring the 
    enormous transmarine dominions of the Portuguese crown. All Europe was 
    profoundly impressed and alarmed by this apparent increase of his power. 
    Elizabeth incessantly lectured Henry on the necessity of abating a 
    preponderance so dangerous to all other States, and tried to convince him 
    that it was specially incumbent on France to undertake the enterprise. But 
    she preached in vain. Henry steadily refused to stir unless England would 
    openly assist him with troops and money, of which the marriage was to be the 
    pledge. He did not conceal his suspicion that, when Elizabeth had pushed him 
    into war, she would &amp;quot;draw her neck out of the collar&amp;quot; and leave him to bear 
    the whole danger. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;This was, in fact, her intention. She 
    believed that a war with France would soon compel Philip to make proper 
    concessions to the States; whereupon she would interpose and dictate a 
    peace. &amp;quot;Marry my brother,&amp;quot; Henry kept saying, &amp;quot;and then I shall have 
    security that you will bear your fair share of the fighting, and expenses.&amp;quot; 
    &amp;quot;If I am to go to war,&amp;quot; argued Elizabeth, &amp;quot;I cannot marry your brother; for 
    my subjects will say that I am dragged into it by my husband, and they will 
    grudge the expense. Suppose, instead of a marriage, we have an alliance not 
    binding me to open war; then I will furnish you with money &lt;i&gt;underhand&lt;/i&gt;. 
    You know you have got to fight. You cannot afford to let Philip go on 
    increasing his power.&amp;quot; &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Henry remained doggedly firm. No marriage, no 
    war. At last, finding she could not stir him, Elizabeth again concluded a 
    treaty of marriage, but with the extraordinary proviso that six weeks should 
    be left for private explanations by letter between herself and Alençon. It 
    soon appeared what this meant. In these six weeks Elizabeth furnished her 
    suitor with money, and incited him to make a sudden attack on Parma, who was 
    then besieging Cambray, close to the French frontier. Alençon, thinking 
    himself now sure of the marriage, collected 15,000 men; and Henry, though 
    not openly assisting him, no longer prohibited the enterprise. But, as soon 
    as Elizabeth thought they were sufficiently committed, she gave them to 
    understand that the marriage must be again deferred, that her subjects were 
    discontented, that she could only join in a defensive alliance, but that she 
    would furnish money &amp;quot;in reasonable sort&amp;quot; &lt;i&gt;underhand&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;All this is very unscrupulous, very 
    shameless, even for that shameless age. Hardened liars like Henry and 
    Alençon thought it too bad. &lt;i&gt;They&lt;/i&gt; were ready for violence as well as 
    fraud, and availed themselves of whichever method came handiest. Elizabeth 
    also used the weapon which nature had given her. Being constitutionally 
    averse from any but peaceful methods, she made up for it by a double dose of 
    fraud. &lt;i&gt;Dente lupus, cornu taurus&lt;/i&gt;. It would have been useless for a 
    mate statesman to try to pass himself off as a fickle impulsive, susceptible 
    being, swayed from one moment to another in his political schemes by 
    passions and weaknesses that are thought natural in the other sex. This was 
    Elizabeth's advantage, and she made the most of it. She was a masculine 
    woman simulating, when it suited her purpose, a feminine character. The men 
    against whom she was matched were never sure whether they were dealing with 
    a crafty and determined politician, or a vain, flighty, amorous woman. This 
    uncertainty was constantly putting them out in their calculations. Alençon 
    would never have been so taken in if he had not told himself that any folly 
    might be expected from an elderly woman enamoured of a young man. &lt;/font&gt;
    &lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;On this occasion Elizabeth scored, if not the 
    full success she had hoped from her audacious mystification, yet no 
    inconsiderable portion of it. Henry managed to draw back just in time, and 
    was not let in for a big war. But Alençon, at the head of 15,000 men, and 
    close to Cambray, could not for very shame beat a retreat. Parma retired at 
    his approach, and the French army entered Cambray in triumph (August 1581). 
    Alençon therefore had been put in harness to some purpose. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Though Henry III. had good reason to complain 
    of the way he had been treated, he did not make it a quarrel with Elizabeth. 
    His interests, as she saw all along, were too closely bound up with hers to 
    permit him to think of such a thing. On the contrary, he renewed the 
    alliance of 1572 in an ampler form, though it still remained strictly 
    defensive. Alençon, after relieving and victualling Cambray, disbanded his 
    army, and went over to England again to press for the marriage (November 
    1581). Thither he was followed by ambassadors from the States. By the advice 
    of Orange they had resolved to take him as their sovereign, and they were 
    now urgently pressing him to return to the Netherlands to be installed. 
    Elizabeth added her pressure; but he was unwilling to leave England until he 
    should have secured the marriage. For three months (November 1581 to 
    February 1582) did Elizabeth try every art to make him accept promise for 
    performance. She was thoroughly in her element. To win her game in this way, 
    not by the brutal arbitrament of war, or even by the ordinary tricks of 
    vicarious diplomacy, but by artifices personally executed, feats of cajolery 
    that might seem improbable on the stage,--this was delightful in the highest 
    degree. The more distrustful Alençon showed himself, the keener was the 
    pleasure of handling him. One day he is hidden behind a curtain to view her 
    elegant dancing; not, surely, that he might be smitten with it, but that he 
    might think she desired him to be smitten. Another day she kisses him on the 
    lips (&lt;i&gt;en la boca&lt;/i&gt;) in the presence of the French ambassador. She gives 
    him a ring. She presents him to her household as their future master. She 
    orders the Bishop of Lincoln to draw up a marriage service. It is a 
    repulsive spectacle; but, after all, we are not so much disgusted with the 
    elderly woman who pretends to be willing to marry the young man, as with the 
    young man who is really willing to marry the elderly woman. Unfortunately 
    for Elizabeth, her acting was so realistic that it not only took in 
    contemporaries, but has persuaded many modern writers that she was really 
    influenced by a degrading passion. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;Henry III. himself was at last induced to 
    believe that Elizabeth was this time in earnest. But he could not be driven 
    from his determination to risk nothing till he saw the marriage actually 
    concluded. Pinart, the French Secretary of State, was accordingly sent over 
    to settle the terms. Elizabeth demanded one concession after another, and 
    finally asked for the restitution of Calais. There was no mistaking what 
    this meant. Pinart, in the King's name, formally forbade Alençon to proceed 
    to the Netherlands except as a married man, and tried to intimidate 
    Elizabeth by threatening that his master would ally himself with Philip. But 
    she laughed at him, and told him that she could have the Spanish alliance 
    whenever she chose, which was perfectly true. Alençon himself gave way. He 
    felt that he was being played with. He had come over here, with a &lt;i&gt;fatuilé&lt;/i&gt; 
    not uncommon among young Frenchmen, expecting to bend a love-sick Queen to 
    serve his political designs. He found himself, to his intense mortification, 
    bent to serve hers. Ashamed to show his face in France without either his 
    Belgian dominions or his English wife, he was fain to accept Elizabeth's 
    solemn promise that she would marry him as soon as she could, and allowed 
    himself to be shipped off under the escort of an English fleet to the 
    Netherlands (February 1582). &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;According to Mr. Froude, &amp;quot;the Prince of 
    Orange intimated that Alençon was accepted by the States only as a pledge 
    that England would support them; if England failed them, they would not 
    trust their fortunes to so vain an idiot.&amp;quot; This statement appears to be 
    drawn from the second-band tattle of Mendoza, and is probably, like much 
    else from that source, unworthy of credit. But whether Orange sent such an 
    &amp;quot;intimation&amp;quot; or not, it cannot be allowed to weigh against the ample 
    evidence that Alençon was accepted by him and by the States mainly for the 
    sake of the French forces he could raise on his own account, and the 
    assistance which he undertook to procure from his brother. Neither Orange 
    nor any one else regarded him as an idiot. Orange had not been led to expect 
    that he would bring any help from England except money supplied underhand; 
    and money Elizabeth did furnish in very considerable quantities. But the 
    Netherlanders now expected everything to be done for them, and were backward 
    with their contributions both in men and money. Clearly there is something 
    to be said for the let-alone policy to which Elizabeth usually leant. &lt;/font&gt;
    &lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;3&quot;&gt;The States intended Alençon's sovereignty to 
    be of the strictly constitutional kind, such as it had been before the 
    encroachments of Philip and his father. This did not suit the young 
    Frenchman, and at the beginning of 1583 he attempted a &lt;i&gt;coup d'état&lt;/i&gt;, 
    not without encouragement from some of the Belgian Catholics. At Antwerp his 
    French troops were defeated with great bloodshed by the citizens, and the 
    general voice of the country was for sending him about his business. But 
    both Elizabeth and Orange, though disconcerted and disgusted by his 
    treachery, still saw nothing better to be done than to patch up the breach 
    and retain his services. Both of them urged this course on the 
    States--Orange with his usual dignified frankness; Elizabeth in the crooked, 
    blustering fashion which has brought upon her policy, in so many instances, 
    reproach which it does not really deserve. Norris, the commander of the 
    English volunteers, had discountenanced the &lt;i&gt;coup-d'état&lt;/i&gt; and taken his 
    orders from the States. Openly Elizabeth reprimanded him, and ordered him to 
    bring his men back to England. Secretly she told him he had done well, and 
    bade him remain where he was. Norris was in fact there to protect the 
    interests of England quite as much against the French as against Spain. 
    There is not the least ground for the assertion that in promoting a 
    reconciliation with Alençon, Orange acted under pressure from Elizabeth. 
    Everything goes to show that he, the wisest and noblest statesman of his 
    time, thought it the only course open to the States, unless they were 
    prepared to submit to Philip. Both Elizabeth and Orange felt that the first 
    necessity was to keep the quarrel alive between the Frenchman and the 
    Spaniard. The English Queen therefore continued to feed Alençon with hopes 
    of marriage, and the States patched up a reconciliation with him (March 
    1583). But his heart failed him. He saw Parma taking town after town. He 
    knew that he had made himself odious to the Netherlanders. He was covered 
    with shame. He was fatally stricken with consumption. In June 1583 he left 
    Belgium never to return. Within a twelvemonth he was dead. &lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;/font&gt;
    &lt;hr&gt;
    &lt;/font&gt;
    &lt;font face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot;&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;Notes:&lt;/b&gt;
    &lt;/font&gt;
    &lt;font style=&quot;font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif&quot;&gt;
    &lt;font style=&quot;font-family: Times New Roman&quot;&gt;1. He had received the Duchy of 
    Anjou in addition to that of Alençon, and some historians call him by the 
    former title.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;left&quot;&gt;&lt;font style=&quot;font-family: Times New Roman&quot; size=&quot;2&quot;&gt;From &lt;i&gt;
    Queen Elizabeth&lt;/i&gt; by Edward Spencer Beesly.&amp;nbsp; Published in London by 
    Macmillan and Co., 1892.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;/font&gt;
    &lt;font face=&quot;Times New Roman&quot; size=&quot;2&quot;&gt;
  &lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;/blockquote&gt;

    &lt;p align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;
    &lt;a href=&quot;_httpextlink_&amp;amp;rl=1&amp;amp;href=http:%2f%2fenglishhistory.net%2ftudor%2fbeeslychapterseven.html&quot;&gt;to Chapter 
    VII The Papal Attack: 1570-1583&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;
    &lt;a href=&quot;_httpextlink_&amp;amp;rl=1&amp;amp;href=http:%2f%2fenglishhistory.net%2ftudor%2fmonarchs%2feliz1.html&quot;&gt;to the Queen 
    Elizabeth I website&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; /&amp;nbsp;
    &lt;a href=&quot;_httpextlink_&amp;amp;rl=1&amp;amp;href=http:%2f%2fenglishhistory.net%2ftudor%2frelative%2fmaryqos.html&quot;&gt;to the Mary, 
    queen of Scots website&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;p align=&quot;center&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;_httpextlink_&amp;amp;rl=1&amp;amp;href=http:%2f%2fenglishhistory.net%2ftudor%2fsecondary.html&quot;&gt;
    to Secondary Sources&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
    &lt;/font&gt;
  


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