The 1579 'Frog' courtship of Queen Elizabeth I

Elizabeth I, the supposed Virgin Queen, spent 1579 engaged in a flirtation so absurd it reads like a tabloid fever dream. Her suitor was Francis, Duke of Anjou—a French prince twenty years her junior who was, by all contemporary accounts, remarkably unattractive and heavily pockmarked.

Instead of ghosting him, Elizabeth leaned into the chaos and nicknamed him her Little Frog. It sounds like a playground insult, but it was actually a brilliant bit of diplomatic PR. By treating a high-stakes marriage treaty like a cozy, private joke, she managed to string France along for years and maintain a crucial alliance without ever actually having to say I do.

Wait, how do you actually stall a royal marriage for years without saying no?

Elizabeth was the undisputed heavyweight champion of the "it’s complicated" relationship status. She essentially used the 16th-century version of "let’s circle back next quarter." Whenever the French pushed for a firm date, she’d suddenly discover a "diplomatic headache" or a new religious concern that required months of solitary prayer.

She also brilliantly weaponized her own council. She’d tell Anjou she was personally dying to marry him, but—alas!—her grumpy, overprotective advisors simply wouldn't allow it. It was the ultimate "good cop, bad cop" routine, keeping the French hopeful enough to stay allies but too tied up in red tape to actually reach the altar.

So, was her council actually in on this massive gaslighting scheme?

It was less of a coordinated prank and more of a high-stakes improv show where Elizabeth was the only one with the full script. Her councilors, particularly the staunch Protestants like Francis Walsingham, genuinely loathed the idea of a French Catholic prince getting his boots under the royal bed.

Elizabeth took their very real, very grumpy xenophobia and repackaged it as "tragic obstacles." She’d play the heartbroken damsel to Anjou’s face, then likely share a metaphorical high-five with her advisors for successfully blocking the exit. It was the ultimate political win-win: the council felt powerful, and Elizabeth stayed single.

Did Anjou actually believe these excuses, or was he just playing along too?

Anjou was likely blinded by the sheer sparkle of the English crown. Elizabeth was a world-class performer; she’d weep, squeeze his hand, and curse the "cruel fate" of her meddling parliament. She made him feel like they were star-crossed lovers fighting a common enemy.

He also had his own desperate agenda. France was a political dumpster fire, and an English marriage was his golden ticket to relevance. Even if he suspected he was being played, the prize was too big to quit. He wasn't in on the joke; he was the mark.

If he wouldn't quit, how did she finally get rid of him?

She didn't just ghost him; she gave him a very expensive "it's not you, it's me" speech. She claimed her subjects simply wouldn't allow the match—the ultimate "my parents won't let us date" excuse, but for empires.

To keep France happy, she funded his exit. She handed him a 60,000 pound "loan" to go fight in the Netherlands instead. She essentially bought him a new hobby so he’d stop loitering.

He left with a full purse, and she staged a tearful public goodbye to maintain the "tragic love" fiction. She got her freedom; he got a massive travel budget.