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]