ELIZABETH (vi), 1578-83--THE PAPAL ATTACK
[Sidenote: Union of Utrecht 1579]
The presence of Alexander of Parma in the Netherlands soon resulted in
a definite division between the seven northern and the ten southern
States. The latter, Catholic themselves, were not inclined to hold out
for religious liberty. The rest, being Protestant, and realising that,
while William of Orange lived, two at least, Holland and Zealand, would
hold out to the very death, resolved to stand together; combining,
under the title of the United Provinces, in the Union of Utrecht at the
beginning of 1579. Their strength lay in their command of the estuaries
of the Scheldt and the Meuse.
[Sidenote: 1578 The Matrimonial juggle]
Elizabeth's great object now was to keep Alençon (otherwise known as
Anjou, the title held by Henry III. before he ascended the throne; also
very commonly as "Monsieur") dancing in obedience to her manipulation
of the wires. In this, as in all the previous matrimonial negotiations,
not one of her ministers seems ever to have grasped her policy; the
policy, that is, which modern historians attribute to her: a policy of
which the successful issue really depended on its never being
suspected; which was possible only to one who was entire mistress of
all arts of dissimulation; which did in fact succeed completely every
time she applied it; a policy however of which no statesman could have
dared to recommend the risk. This was, in brief, to make the whole
world including her ministers believe that she really intended to marry,
to keep that conviction alive over a protracted period of time, and yet
to secure a loop-hole for escape at the last moment. She had played the
farce for years with the Archduke Charles; she had played it with Henry
of Anjou; she had already played it with Alençon once; yet every time
she started it afresh, potentates and ambassadors, her own ministers,
and the wooer she selected, took the thing seriously, played into her
hands, and were cajoled by her boundless histrionic ingenuity. Either
she treated the world to a series of successful impositions, carried
through, unaided and unsuspected, with the supreme audacity and skill
of a consummate _comedienne;_ or she was a contemptibly capricious
woman whose inordinate vacillations invariably took the turn which
after-events proved to have been the luckiest possible in the
circumstances. Of these two interpretations, the theory of a deliberate
policy is the more acceptable, if only because it is inconceivable that
the habitual indulgence of sheer wanton caprice should never once have
involved her in some irrevocable blunder, some position from which she
could not be extricated. Yet history affords no parallel to such
repeatedly and universally successful dissimulation.
[Sidenote: Alençon's wooing]
The comedy had fairly begun three months before Don John's death. In
response, as it would seem, to a private invitation, Alençon's envoys
came over at the end of July to propose the marriage. Monsieur wanted
the affair settled at once, as he must decide whether he was going to
help Orange or Don John. After a little formal procrastination,
Elizabeth had her answer ready. She was quite prepared to receive him
as a suitor though somewhat hurt by his conduct before; still she could
not promise to marry any man till they had met, and could really feel
sure that they would be happily mated. He had better come over and see
her.
Alençon did not want to come over and see her; but his alternative plan,
of taking part with Don John, was opportunely spoilt by the Governor's
death, coupled with the new Spanish prospects opened up by the death of
the Portuguese King. An alliance with Parma under these conditions was
not at all the same thing for the French prince as an alliance with the
ambitious and somewhat Quixotic schemer who was now dead. Elizabeth,
thus strengthened, added a new condition, that he must withdraw for the
present from the Netherlands. He could hardly, under the circumstances,
support Orange against her will, and he obeyed her behest. Then she
consented to receive another representative on his behalf, but held to
her declaration that she would settle nothing till she had met Monsieur
himself in person.
[Sidenote: 1579 Popular hostility]
At the beginning of the year (1579) Alençon's emissary Simier arrived.
In England however practically every one--except apparently the Queen
herself--was opposed to the marriage. The traditional animosity to
France was strong, and had been intensified by the Paris massacre. The
French Huguenots, for whom there was some sympathy, had no confidence
in Alençon. The more unpopular the marriage showed itself, the more the
Queen seemed to incline to it--since the more reasonably she could also
insist to him on the necessity of delay, that her people might first be
reconciled to it. Yet however much the Council might dislike it, they
now felt bound to advise that Monsieur should be allowed to pay his
visit. In August he arrived, and she could no longer urge the plea that
she had not seen him. Mendoza, the Spanish ambassador, thought she
would marry him, that a civil war would follow, and the end would be
the return of England to Catholicism. On the whole Mendoza was not ill
pleased.
[Sidenote: Loyalty to the Queen]
Now however capricious and apparently irrational the conduct of the
Queen might be, however her ministers might resent it, condemn it,
bewail it to each other, and remonstrate with her, they remained always
obstinately loyal. We may cynically attribute the fact to their
consciousness that if they deserted her their doom under her rival
would be sealed. Were that the true interpretation--were they really
guided merely by a more or less enlightened self-interest--it is rather
natural to suppose that some of them would have played a double game
and secured friends in the other camp, like the Whig and Tory statesmen
of the early eighteenth century; that they would have managed their own
affairs so that they could change sides. None of them ever did anything
of the kind. Whatever the Queen did, they held to their own views,
advocated them stubbornly, but obeyed their mistress, even when they
thought her caprices were on the verge of bringing them all to ruin.
And yet they never seem to have fully realised the extent to which
their own loyalty was shared by the people at large. Men may surrender
themselves to such a sentiment, without venturing to count upon its
influence on others. But Elizabeth reckoned on it in ministers and
people alike; and her calculation was invariably justified.
[Sidenote: Yea and Nay]
So it was in this instance. What might have happened if she really had
married Alençon can only be guessed. Short of that, popular loyalty was
equal to the strain. A passionate pamphlet against the marriage was
issued by a lawyer named Stubbs. The Council, confident in the real
strength of the country, urged her to take the bold attitude, place
herself frankly at the head of European protestantism, and take
measures at home to make a Catholic rising impossible. They could see
no alternative but the marriage. She stormed at them, burst into tears,
vowed that she had expected them all to declare that the marriage would
be the fulfilment of all their hopes. They replied that since she would
have it so they would do their best to make the marriage acceptable.
She had Stubbs and his publisher pilloried, and their right hands
struck off--on the strength of a most iniquitous misinterpretation of a
law of Queen Mary's. The victims waved their caps with the hand that
was left and cried "God save the Queen". The marriage treaty was drawn
up (November) but a couple of months were to pass before its
ratification, to quiet the public mind. When the two months were over
it was still unratified, and the whole negotiation was treated as
having lapsed. Burghley at the end of January (1580) was falling back
on the leadership of Protestantism as the only alternative to adopt,
since France must be regarded as hopelessly alienated.
[Sidenote: The Papal plan of Campaign]
In the meantime the Papal plan of campaign against England--a plan
which appears to have been matured early in 1579--was well under way.
The Pope himself could not, and Philip of Spain would not, prepare
Armadas to bring the recusant island back to the Roman submission. But
there were other means to be tried than Armadas. Setting aside schemes
for assassination, there was trouble to be made for Elizabeth in
Ireland, trouble in Scotland, and trouble in England itself. Ireland
was ripe for rebellion; a Catholic faction might be reorganised in
Scotland; missionary zeal and martyrs' crowns might still revolutionise
sentiment in England. The triple attack was resolved on--war in Ireland,
diplomacy in Scotland, in England Seminarists from Rheims (whither
Allen's Douay college had migrated some years before) and Jesuits from
Rome.
In Ireland we have already seen the scheme taking shape, but scotched
for the time by Stukely's diversion to Morocco and his death there, in
1578. In the following summer however, an expedition landed in Kerry,
with Sanders as Papal Nuncio, and half the island was soon in a blaze.
There, for some little time, such of the wilder spirits of English
youth as were not occupied with ventures on the high seas were to find
ample employment: and though Philip would not make open war, Philip's
subjects were not restrained from seeking to pay back the blows which
Drake had been dealing to Spain on the other side of the ocean--the
report whereof had already found its way to Europe. In Scotland, the
autumn was not far advanced when young Esmé Stewart, Count D'Aubigny,
of the House of Lennox, James's cousin, arrived in Scotland to win his
way into the boy-king's favour and plot the overthrow of Morton and of
the Preachers. In the summer of 1580, Campian and Parsons began to
deliver their message to the Catholics of England.
[Sidenote: 1580 Philip annexes Portugal]
In this same summer, the Cardinal-King of Portugal, Sebastian's
successor, died. Philip's opportunity for annexation had arrived, and
he seized it, expelling with little difficulty another claimant, Don
Antonio, prior of Crato, the bastard son of the Cardinal's brother
Luis; who however for the next ten years hovers through English
politics as a pretender to be supported or dropped at convenience; used
as a menace to Philip, much as the enemies of Henry VII. had used
Perkin Warbeck. Then, in September, the great English seaman was back
on English shores, in the ship that had sailed round the world--back
with the spoils of Spain on board.
With this impression in our minds of the leading features of the year
1580, we can turn first to the detailed record of events in Ireland.
[Sidenote: Ireland: 1579 The Desmond rising]
The Expedition which landed in July at Dingle on the furthest south-
west coast was small enough; but it brought with it Sanders the
accredited representative of the Pope, and Fitzmaurice, cousin of
Desmond. It appealed therefore at once to the Catholics at large and
the Geraldine connexion in particular. There was no strong or united
English force in the country; it was the custom of Elizabeth to provide
her officers with the very minimum of equipment. Desmond at first
hesitated; but his brother seized an early opportunity to commit him by
treacherously murdering two English officers and their servants. Half
Munster was up in arms at once, and the new arrivals made haste to
fortify Smerwick, in the neighbourhood of Dingle where they had landed.
It was expected and declared that reinforcements from Spain would soon
be forth-coming. Malby, the President of Connaught, acted with
promptitude and energy, marching south with his own troops and some of
the Burkes who were at feud with the Geraldines. Fortune favoured them;
Fitzmaurice was slain almost at the outset, and the Papal standard
captured and sent off to Dublin. Desmond with his immediate following,
who had not taken part in the engagement, fell back on Ashketyn, near
Limerick; the rest of the insurgents retired on Smerwick. Drury however,
advancing from Cork, was less fortunate, his troops being attacked by
the Irish and very severely handled, so that he was forced to retreat.
He died soon after.
The vigorous Malby assumed control of the Presidency, marched through
Desmond's country dealing miscellaneous slaughter and destruction,
burnt the town at Ashketyn since the castle could not be carried
without cannon, and then went his way into Connaught. When Malby was
gone, Desmond sallied forth, marched quietly south to Youghal where
there was an English colony, sacked it, put the English to the sword,
and burnt the place. Thence, with increasing musters, he marched upon
Cork, which however he abstained from attacking. In January the
insurgents were encouraged by the arrival of some military stores from
abroad, with promises of further assistance in response to messages
from Desmond to the King of Spain.
[Sidenote: 1580 Fire and Sword]
Meantime, neither Malby at Athlone nor Pelham in Dublin had sufficient
troops to take the field in force. Ormonde, dispatched from England to
take the chief command, had neither money nor material allowed him to
take the offensive. It was not till March that the Queen was induced to
send the urgently needed reinforcements, and Admiral Wynter with a
squadron of ships arrived at the mouth of the Shannon. Ormonde from
Kilkenny in the Butler country, and Pelham from Dublin, marched in two
columns converging on Tralee, burning and slaughtering mercilessly
along the route, sparing none. Then they turned on Carrickfoyle,
impregnable without artillery, but easily breached by the heavy guns
landed from Wynter's ships. The garrison was put to the sword. Desmond
at Ashketyn, having no mind for a like fate, withdrew from it, blowing
up the castle behind him. But Elizabeth stopped the supplies; the
English were again forced to inaction, and parties of insurgents went
marauding over Cork and Kerry, taking their turn of murdering. In June
the purse-strings were loosened again; Pelham marched into Kerry, and
only just failed to surprise Desmond and his people, with Sanders, in
their beds. They escaped however, and Pelham went on to Dingle. Ormonde,
making his way to the same point, added considerably to the tale of
burnings and slaughterings. This loyal earl in 1580 accounted for
"forty-six captains and leaders, with eight notorious traitors and
male-factors, and four thousand other folk". [Footnote: _Carew
Papers_.]
[Sidenote: Development of the Rebellion]
The people in despair were beginning to turn against Sanders and the
Geraldines, though persistently loyal to Desmond himself. But a
diversion was created by a rising of the Catholics of the Pale. Lord
Grey de Wilton had just arrived in Dublin as Deputy. He marched against
the rebels, but the greater part of his force was ambushed and cut to
pieces in the Wicklow mountains. And on the top of this disaster, the
long delayed foreign expedition landed at Dingle--Wynter having
withdrawn--and Smerwick was re-occupied by a force mainly consisting of
eight hundred Italian and Spanish adventurers. The rebellion seemed to
be reviving everywhere. Ormonde, again marching into Kerry with four
thousand men, accomplished nothing. But the murderous work of the
summer had had effect, and the septs would not openly take the field
without immediate cash inducements, which were lacking.
[Sidenote: Smerwick: and after]
In October Grey made a fresh start and marched down from Dublin to
Kerry: in the first week of November, Wynter's fleet reappeared, having
been held back by stress of weather with the exception of one vessel
which had been lying off Smerwick for three weeks. The siege now was
brief enough. On the 9th, the garrison, after a vain attempt to obtain
terms, surrendered at discretion. The officers were put to ransom; the
rest were slaughtered; even women were hanged. The dead numbered 600.
Grey doubtless regarded the measure as a just return for the doings of
the Inquisition, and the punishment of English sailors as pirates, for
his retort to the garrison's overtures had been that their presence in
Ireland was piracy. But the whole business illustrates the sheer
ruthlessness which characterised both sides, at least where there was a
technical excuse for denying belligerents' rights to the vanquished.
It was no longer possible for the rebellion to make head; but for the
next two years a guerrilla warfare was kept up, in which English and
Irish killed each other without compunction whenever anything in the
shape of an excuse offered itself. Most of the English honestly
believed that the only practicable policy was one of extermination, and
the Irish retaliated in kind. There is nothing so ugly as this history
in the annals of a people which, outside of Ireland, has shown a unique
capacity for tempering conquest with justice. The very men whose blood
boiled, honestly enough, over cruelties to the Indians, adopted to the
Irish the precise attitude of mind which so horrified them in the
Spaniards. Elizabeth herself, Burghley, Walsingham, and Ormonde, were
opposed to the extermination policy; but the bloodshed went on,
unsystematically instead of systematically. Sanders, wandering a hunted
fugitive, died in a bog. It was not till 1583 that Desmond himself was
surprised and slain in his bed. In the meantime, there had been no
variation in the story. But the exhaustion of ceaseless slaughters and
ceaseless famines had practically terminated the struggle. Sir John
Perrot, who became Deputy in 1584, could adopt a conciliatory attitude,
without fear that his leniency would be immediately abused--though it
led to his recall and condemnation for treason [Footnote: This sentence
however was not carried out. It is perhaps worth noting that Sir John
was reputed to be a natural son of Henry VIII.] three years later.
[Sidenote: Scotland, 1579-81]
The diplomatic campaign in Scotland need not detain us long. Morton as
Regent governed that country with a strong hand, and at least held down
its normal turbulence: but while his forcefulness was recognised, he
went his own way, quite regardless of the enemies he made. Despite his
religious professions, he treated the preachers with scant courtesy,
and was unpopular with all parties. D'Aubigny on his arrival promptly
found his way into the young King's good graces, was made Duke of
Lennox very shortly, and set himself to conciliate the Puritans by
professing to have been converted from Popery by James's dialectical
skill. In England, there was no doubt that he was an agent in the papal
programme, and Walsingham would have had him removed in the usual
lawless fashion, failing other means. But Elizabeth, as always, was
confident of the practical impossibility of making Scotland united for
any purpose except resistance of an English invasion. She made it
evident that armed intervention from her need not be looked for; and in
December (1580) Lennox (D'Aubigny) struck at Morton by accusing him of
complicity in the murder of Darnley. The agent in this proceeding was
another James Stewart, an adventurer, now Captain of the Guard, who was
shortly after advanced to the Earldom of Arran. Morton was imprisoned,
brought to trial in the following June (1581) and executed. The strong
hand being gone, the usual chaos supervened. For the time the Papal
party was uppermost, but Elizabeth's calculations were correct. The
risk of French intervention was brought nearer, but it was
counterbalanced partly by the bait of the Alençon marriage, which the
Queen managed to keep dangling, partly by the fact that many of the men
who had overthrown Morton were anti-papal, and preferred playing for
their own hand to encouraging a French ascendancy. By the "Raid of
Ruthven" in 1582 James was removed from the influence of Lennox, who
had to leave the country; and in 1583 James Stewart Earl of Arran was
carrying out a policy which was to make the King himself, with Arran at
his elbow, the force predominating alike over preachers and nobles.
[Sidenote: England 1580]
We may now revert to England and Elizabeth in 1580. Throughout the
earlier half of the year, it was as usual the Queen's first object to
commit herself to nothing, but to persuade Orange that she might yet
help him, and Alençon that she might yet marry him. But in July, Philip
was master of Portugal, and the Jesuit campaign was beginning in
England. In September, Orange's patience was worn out, and the crown of
the Netherlands was definitely offered to Alençon; within a few days
Drake and the Pelican were home, and Mendoza was demanding restitution;
and again a few days later Spanish and Italian adventurers were
fortifying themselves at Smerwick.
[Sidenote: The Jesuit Mission]
The Papal Bull of Deposition ten years before had stiffened the
attitude of Government towards the English Catholics, but had neither
broken down the loyalty of the latter nor led to any serious
persecution. On this head, the mission of 1580 was the turning point of
the reign. The moving spirit was Allen, of Douay and Rheims; a man of
high ability and character who conceived that the recovery of his
country for the true Church was the highest of all objects for a
patriot, and one to which all other considerations should give way.
[Sidenote: Campian and Parsons]
It cannot be disputed that the aim of the Mission was to sow disloyalty
as well as to gain converts, though the allegation that incitement to
assassinate the Queen was part of the programme is not quite
conclusively proved. Of the two chief missioners, Parsons and Campian,
it is at least tolerably certain that the latter, an amiable enthusiast,
was quite innocent of complicity in any such design. That certainty
does not apply to Parsons. But the instructions were clearly
treasonable in character. The Catholics were told that in spite of the
Bull of Deposition they might profess loyalty to the Queen, but must
assist in her overthrow if called upon. That is to say that if treason
were brewing against the _de facto_ Government, it was to be a
point of conscience and a condition of the Church's approval for all
Catholics that they should assist that treason. There is nothing about
that instruction which can fairly be called hypocritical; but _ipso
facto_, it converted every Catholic, willy nilly, into a potential
traitor, who if treason arose could only remain loyal under censure of
the Church. Moreover it was the business of the missioners not only to
impress on those who were already Catholics this view of their duty;
but also, by an active propaganda, to increase the number of such
potential traitors; while it was quite certain that under such
conditions, converts would be actuated by a zeal which would render
them doubly dangerous.
For some months the emissaries travelled the country in various
disguises, shifting their quarters secretly, but in favourable
districts occasionally appearing quite openly, more or less winked at
by the authorities. Their immunity made them the more sanguine, but it
also alarmed the Protestants, and before the end of the year, there was
a change.
[Sidenote: Walsingham]
Walsingham--a sincere Puritan, a man who never soiled his hands for
private gain, who by his outspoken opposition to her political double-
dealing provoked Elizabeth's anger more frequently than any other of
her many outspoken advisers, of whom more than any other statesman of
the day it might be said that he loved righteousness and hated
iniquity--had yet the fault of the Puritan character, a certain
remorselessness in dealing with the servants of the Scarlet Woman. He
would have connived at the murder of D'Aubigny; his organisation of
"Secret Service" was as unscrupulous as Burghley's; and he more than
any one else approved and fostered the revival of the illegal
application of torture as a means of extorting information from
recalcitrant prisoners. In this iniquity, however, it is fair to
recognise that the rack and the boot were not employed wantonly but, as
it would seem, honestly: with the single intention of obtaining true
information for the unravelment of plots which endangered the public
weal, and only on persons who were known to possess that information.
[Sidenote: 1581 An anti-papal Parliament]
Walsingham then, at the close of 1580, appears to have undertaken the
conduct of the operations against the emissaries, several of whom were
promptly captured and put to the torture without result, though one or
two made haste to change sides to save themselves. The rest showed that
magnificent constancy which had characterised alike the Carthusians
under Henry and the Protestants under Mary. In January (1581)
parliament was called, and passed a very stringent act making it
treason to proselytise, or to join the Church of Rome; imposing a heavy
fine as well as imprisonment for celebrating Mass, and a fine of £20
per month for exemption from attendance at the Anglican ritual. Drastic
as the measure was, and a complete departure from the comparative
toleration hitherto prevalent in practice if not altogether in theory,
the basis of it was quite manifestly the conviction that as a result of
the mission every Catholic must now be suspect of treason, and every
convert to Catholicism something more than suspect.
When the parliament had completed its business by voting supplies, it
was prorogued. Through the spring and the summer the pursuit of the
Emissaries and the oppression of the Catholics under the new Act went
on. Campian himself was taken in July, and after some months'
imprisonment, in the course of which he was racked, was executed for
treason at the end of the year: his martyrdom, with others, producing
the usual effect.
[Sidenote: Alençon again]
In the meantime, the acceptance in January of the lordship of the
Netherlands by Alençon forced Elizabeth to redouble her pretence of
desiring the furtherance of the Alençon marriage--a pretence through
which Walsingham alone seems to have penetrated. The French King sent
over a magnificent embassy in April, which was magnificently received.
Then Elizabeth suggested that a League would serve every purpose.
France replied that the League was what it wished for, but the marriage
was a condition. Everything was discussed and agreed upon--but the
Queen succeeded in retaining her saving clause; the agreement was
subject to Alençon and herself being personally satisfied. She was
still able to hold off, while she had brought France into such a
position that if war should be declared between England and Spain,
France must join England. Walsingham was sent off to Paris, with the
task before him of evading the marriage, avoiding war while entangling
France in it, and all with a full conviction that his instructions
would vary from week to week. He believed, and he told her, that France
would make the League without the marriage, if her sincerity were only
guaranteed by something more substantial than promises; but that if
neither the League nor the marriage were completed, she would have
Spain, France, and Scotland--where Morton had just been executed--all
turning their arms against her at once. But contrary to all reasonable
expectation Elizabeth succeeded in avoiding a breach with France and in
keeping Alençon still dangling: and however Mendoza--who had quite
failed to obtain any compensation for Drake's expedition--might
threaten, Philip still refused to declare war openly.
[Sidenote: His visit to England]
The story of the Alençon farce, if it were not unquestionable fact,
would be almost incredible. Monsieur was some twenty years younger than
the amorous Queen; in person he was offensive and contemptible; his
character corresponded to his person, and his intelligence to his
character. Elizabeth was eight and forty. Yet the man's amazing vanity
made him a perpetual dupe, while it must have taken all her own vanity
to persuade the lady that she could play Omphale to his Hercules. Yet
she did it. In November she had him back in England. She kissed him
before Walsingham and the French Ambassador, [Footnote: _State Papers,
Spanish,_ iii., p. 226.] and gave him the ring off her finger,
declaring that she was going to marry him. But as soon as it came to
business, she made one fresh demand after another. When concession was
added to concession, she capped the list by requiring the restoration
of Calais, an obvious absurdity. Burghley thought the whole thing was
ended, and was for conciliating Spain by restoring Drake's booty.
Walsingham would have handed those spoils over to Orange. The Queen did
neither, but told Alençon that his presence in the Netherlands had now
become quite necessary to his own honour--which was true--and that with
a little patience unreasonable people would be pacified, and she would
still marry him.
[Sidenote: Alençon in the Netherlands]
Thus this most unlucky dupe was once more got out of the country, in
February (1582), a dupe still; and the United Provinces swore
allegiance to him under the new title of Duke of Brabant--giving him to
understand, however, that they accepted him simply as a surety for
English support. When he was safely out of the country, Elizabeth
became more emphatic than ever in her declarations that she would marry
him. After all, however, she was reluctantly compelled to salve her
lover's wounded feelings by cash subsidies, real and substantial though
secret.
[Sidenote: Exit Alençon]
At the end of March an attempt was made to assassinate the strong man
of Holland, William the Silent. He was in fact very dangerously wounded,
and Elizabeth became alarmed lest a like danger were in store for her.
Orange recovered, but Parma continued his course of gradual conquest,
and Alençon bethought him of playing the traitor, seizing the principal
towns, and handing them over to Spain as a peace-offering. In the
following January he made the attempt; but the capture succeeded only
here and there, and at Antwerp, where he himself lay, the _coup_
failed ignominiously and disastrously. The city got wind of what was
going to happen; the French troops were admitted, and, being in, found
themselves in a trap and were cut to pieces. Alençon was deservedly and
finally ruined, and no one in France or England could pretend any more
that he was a possible husband. The year after he sank to a dishonoured
grave, leaving the Huguenot Henry of Navarre heir presumptive to the
throne of France.
[Sidenote: Scotland]
Before Alençon's disaster, Elizabeth's policy in Scotland had been
justified by results: the raid of Ruthven had placed the King in the
hands of the Protestant nobles again, and Lennox was out of the country
for good. It is probable that from Elizabeth's point of view, it was
not worth while to attempt to obtain the friendship of an Anglophil
party, either by force or by bribery. Bribes would have told only just
for so long as they were accepted as an earnest of more to follow;
while force would have had its invariable result of uniting Scotland in
determined resistance. The one thing which would have given reality to
the overtures perpetually passing between Scotland and the Guises was
an English attempt to grasp at domination. Elizabeth, with Mary a
prisoner, had a permanent diplomatic asset in her hands, since she
could hint a threat of either executing her, or liberating her, or
surrendering her on terms as might seem most convenient at a given
crisis. Intrigues which like the marriage projects were never intended
to be consummated were more effective than either bribery or force--and
cheaper.