Or, Could Sarah Have Sold Herself at Tilbury? (I'm about to submit this to Salon. I figured I'd post it here first.) As Americans are just now starting to appreciate, one of the toughest challenges in any politician's career comes at the moment when the brother-in-law transforms himself from a pathetic tool to a bloodthirsty lunatic. For vice-presidential hopeful Sarah Palin, that moment allegedly came when Mike Wooten threatened his wife, Palin's sister; along with their father, and anyone else who threatened his sovereignty over the family beer keg. Palin's subsequent campaign -- half game, half guarded -- to have the man dismissed from his job with the Alaska State Police has given rise to a nationwide scandal. But if Palin's lot has been hard, history tells us of another valiant woman ruler whose lot was even harder. In 1588, Queen Elizabeth of England found herself fighting her sister's ex for her very throne. The brother-in-law in question was Phillip II of Spain, widowed husband of Elizabeth's half-sister, "Bloody" Mary Tudor. Unlike the loutish Wooten, Phillip was known for his erudition and good manners. He would never have shot a cow moose out of season, as Wooten is known to have done. On the down side, his hobbies included enslaving American Indians and burning Protestant heretics. To support his campaign to conquer England, Phillip had the Pope's blessing; an armada of over one hundred ships, and over 50,000 men; and strategically placed bases in the Low Countries. On her side, Elizabeth had the gift of gab. With the Spanish forces waiting at Dunkirk for the word to invade, the queen rode to Tilbury, in the county of Essex, to review the ground forces who had been mustered to repel them. Wearing armor, and flanked by ministers and pages, she addressed her troops with these words: My loving people, We have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we commit our selves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I assure you I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear. I have always so behaved myself that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good-will of my subjects; and therefore I am come amongst you, as you see, at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and my people, my honour and my blood, even in the dust. I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach of a king, and of a king of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realm; to which rather than any dishonour shall grow by me, I myself will take up arms, I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. I know already, for your forwardness you have deserved rewards and crowns; and We do assure you in the word of a prince, they shall be duly paid you. In the mean time, my lieutenant general shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded a more noble or worthy subject; not doubting but by your obedience to my general, by your concord in the camp, and your valour in the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over those enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people. Whether the speech was a product of Elizabeth's own intellect, or whether credit should go to some sixteenth-century Peggy Noonan, is a question for historians. At the time, all that mattered is that it brought the freaking house down, and put an exclamation mark on one of England's greatest victories. If Rassmussen pollsters had been afoot, they'd surely have recorded the biggest bounce since Henry VIII started selling off old monastic land for pennies on the pound. If queen of England had been an elective office, it would have helped Elizabeth ride out scandals over monopolies and feudal privilege, poundage and tunnage, and mobilize the Puritan base to defeat Mary, Queen of Scots in a landslide. I'll pit myself against all her critics and argue that Sarah Palin could have done as well. Though lacking Gloriana's gravitas, she compensates with an earthiness and, paradoxically, a girlish flutter. At Tilbury, facing armed yeomen -- her demographic, more or less -- she might have put them to use like this: My loving people, How's everybody doing tonight? You know, we have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but gosh darn it, I'm a people person! Someone, I think Ronald Reagan, used to say, "If you can't trust people, who can you trust?" And history proved he was right -- except about people who read Catcher in the Rye, which is why all librarians need to get on board and lose the darn thing, lickety-split. Anyhoo, I am come amongst you, as you see, at this time, not for my recreation and disport -- or else I'd have brought brats and macaroni salad -- but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and my people, my honour and my blood, even in the dust. Of course, you won't get that story from our media, who never met a Spanish despot they didn't like, bless their hearts. I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but at least I don't have one of those Hapsburg jaws! I mean, my gosh, King Phil, you've got all the silver of Peru in your hands, can't you see someone about that? But, really, folks, this isn't about King Phillip. He's a great guy, and we're so sorry to hear about what happened to Don Carlos. I just think foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe, should dare to invade the borders of my realm; to which rather than any dishonour shall grow by me, I myself will take up arms, I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues in the field. That means you, Mr. Drake. If Todd tells you to quit bowling and put to sea, he shouldn't have to hear "just one more frame," because then there will be heck to pay. Wrapping it up, we shall shortly have a famous victory over those enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people, so we can take on all the greedy Guses of Wall Street. You betcha. Don't laugh. By now we know, if nothing else, that it would play in Peoria
