2022 CCEA A-Level History 4010 Practice Paper with Answers

The claim that presidential power grew chiefly through personal ambition, rather than the pressure of national crisis, cannot be sustained once the period 1901–2000 is examined as a whole, though ambition certainly shaped HOW individual presidents exploited the crises they faced.

Theodore Roosevelt's assertive, internationally engaged presidency (1901–09) does lend some initial support to the 'personal ambition' thesis: Roosevelt was not responding to a national emergency when he expanded the navy, mediated the Russo-Japanese War, or asserted the 'Roosevelt Corollary' to the Monroe Doctrine — these were choices flowing from his own activist temperament and view of America's world role. Yet even here, Woodrow Wilson's greater wartime powers after 1917 were unmistakably crisis-driven, granted by Congress under the pressure of American entry into the First World War rather than sought through personal design alone. The clearest evidence against the 'ambition over crisis' thesis, however, comes from the 1920s: Harding, Coolidge and Hoover were not lacking in ambition as individuals, yet the presidency itself became markedly more passive during their terms. This strongly suggests that the office's power expands and contracts substantially according to circumstance, since three consecutive presidents chose (or were content) to keep federal — and presidential — power modest in the absence of a crisis demanding otherwise.

The decisive test case is Franklin Roosevelt (1933–45). The scale of the Great Depression, and later of global war, gave FDR a mandate and a set of emergency powers (from the Hundred Days legislation to wartime economic controls) that no president operating in ordinary times could plausibly have obtained through ambition alone; Congress and the public consented to an unprecedented expansion of federal and executive authority specifically because the crisis appeared to demand it. The same pattern continued into the 'Imperial Presidency' of Truman, Eisenhower and Kennedy (1945–63): the existential pressure of the Cold War and the nuclear age — not simply the personalities involved — pushed power toward the executive, since only the presidency could plausibly react quickly enough to nuclear-age threats, justifying an enlarged national security apparatus and an expanded claim to unilateral military action.

Yet personal ambition re-enters the picture decisively with Johnson and, especially, Nixon (1963–73). Johnson's pursuit of the Great Society extended the crisis-driven logic of the New Deal into new domestic territory, but Nixon's conduct during Watergate — using presidential power for narrowly personal, political ends rather than in response to any genuine national emergency — represents ambition operating with little crisis justification at all. Crucially, though, the consequence of Nixon's overreach was not further growth in presidential power but its sharp curtailment: Congress reasserted itself through measures such as the War Powers Resolution (1973), and the weakened, more constrained presidencies of Ford and Carter (1974–80) followed directly from the public's loss of trust in an office whose recent expansion now looked like personal aggrandisement rather than a response to genuine national need. Reagan's subsequent revival of presidential prestige after 1981, in turn, depended heavily on restoring public confidence rather than on any fresh national emergency comparable to depression or world war.

On balance, the pressures of national crisis — the Depression, two World Wars, and the Cold War in particular — provide the more powerful and consistent explanation for the long-term growth of presidential power across the century, since these were the moments at which Congress and the public were willing to cede authority that they otherwise guarded jealously, as the passive 1920s and the post-Watergate retrenchment both demonstrate by contrast. Personal ambition mattered a great deal, but chiefly in shaping how far, and how skilfully, individual presidents exploited the opportunities crisis provided — and, in Nixon's case, in showing how quickly power gained without a genuine crisis to justify it could be lost again.

Level-of-response marking (40 marks). Level 1 (1–10): Limited, generalised knowledge of the period with little specific reference to named presidents or events; the question is addressed only implicitly, if at all; poor organisation and weak written communication. Level 2 (11–20): Some relevant knowledge of the period (e.g. naming FDR, the New Deal, Watergate) with limited analytical development; the question is addressed but the argument is largely descriptive/narrative rather than evaluative; adequate organisation and communication. Level 3 (21–30): Good, accurate knowledge deployed across a range of presidencies (e.g. contrasting the 1920s 'passive presidents' with FDR and the Cold War 'Imperial Presidency'); a clear line of argument addressing both 'ambition' and 'crisis' as explanations, with developed supporting evidence; generally well organised with clear written communication. Level 4 (31–40): Sustained, precise knowledge spanning the whole period, used analytically rather than descriptively; a well-substantiated, balanced argument that directly engages with the quotation throughout (not just in the conclusion), using well-chosen contrasting evidence (e.g. the 1920s and Watergate/its aftermath) to test the 'ambition vs crisis' claim; a clear, independently supported judgement; consistently high-quality organisation and written communication, deploying appropriate historical vocabulary throughout. Max 40 marks.

Source 1 has considerable value to an historian studying this question. In terms of content, it directly addresses the central issue: it presents the decoded Babington Plot correspondence as the decisive proof of Mary's guilt, and explicitly articulates the argument — that Mary would remain a perpetual threat 'so long as she lives' — that historians agree was central to persuading Elizabeth (and her Council) that execution, not merely continued imprisonment, was necessary. Its provenance adds further value: Walsingham was Principal Secretary and the architect of the intelligence operation that produced the evidence, so he is a well-informed, close-to-events author writing in September 1586, shortly after the plot's discovery and before the trial, giving the source strong evidential weight about the case being built against Mary at exactly this stage. However, the source's value is also limited by its purpose and perspective. It is a private letter clearly intended to persuade a fellow councillor of the necessity of trial and execution, meaning Walsingham has an obvious motive to present the evidence as more conclusive and the case for execution as more clear-cut than contemporaries may have universally agreed; as one of the councillors most eager for Mary's removal, he is not a neutral witness, and the source tells us nothing directly about Elizabeth's own state of mind or resistance, only about the case being made TO her. A full historian's judgement would therefore need to weigh this source against evidence more directly reflecting Elizabeth's own perspective (such as her later conduct, discussed in Source 2) and against the trial record itself, to assess how far Walsingham's confident private assessment matched the wider evidential and political picture. Overall, Source 1 is valuable chiefly as direct evidence of the Council's case and confidence, and more limited as evidence of Elizabeth's own reasoning.

Level-of-response marking (15 marks). Level 1 (1–3): Simple, undeveloped comment on the source (e.g. 'it is useful because it is a primary source') with little reference to content, provenance or context. Level 2 (4–7): Some relevant comment on content and/or authorship (e.g. noting Walsingham wrote it) with limited evaluation of its value/limitations; little own knowledge deployed. Level 3 (8–11): Clear evaluation of the source considering both content and provenance (authorship, purpose, date), with some own knowledge used to contextualise or corroborate its claims; a reasonably developed judgement on value. Level 4 (12–15): Sophisticated evaluation integrating content, provenance (author's position/motive/proximity to events) and precise own knowledge of the period to reach a well-substantiated, balanced judgement on the source's value and its limitations for this specific enquiry; clear awareness that value is relative to the specific historical question asked. Max 15 marks.

The two sources, read together, offer meaningful but not conclusive support for the view that Elizabeth was reluctant. Source 1 supports the case only indirectly: Walsingham's letter is addressed to a fellow councillor and argues FOR execution, which implies that, as of September 1586, Elizabeth had not yet been won over to this conclusion and needed to be 'persuaded, at last, of the necessity of the sentence' — language which itself suggests resistance on her part that the Council was working to overcome. Source 2 supports the reluctance argument much more directly and specifically: it describes Elizabeth's 'grief and fury' on hearing of the execution, her claim that she 'had never intended the warrant to be sent', and her furious response toward Davison, whom she had imprisoned in the Tower — concrete, specific behavioural evidence consistent with a monarch who did not want the execution to proceed exactly when and how it did. This is consistent with wider, well-documented evidence of Elizabeth's reluctance: she had resisted council pressure to move decisively against Mary for many years before 1586, and even after signing the warrant in February 1587, delayed its dispatch, later blaming Davison and the council for sending it without her final personal authorisation. However, the sources — and other evidence — also complicate a simple acceptance of 'reluctance'. Source 2 itself raises the possibility that Elizabeth's anger was partly performed, 'to answer the Scottish king and the princes of Europe', suggesting the diarist himself was uncertain how much of her reaction was genuine. Some historians similarly argue that Elizabeth's earlier hesitation reflected calculated political caution about executing a fellow anointed queen and the diplomatic consequences that would follow, rather than any doubt about the desirability of Mary's death itself. On balance, the two sources — Walsingham's implicit acknowledgement that Elizabeth needed persuading, and the diarist's direct account of her grief, fury and blame of Davison — provide reasonably strong support for genuine reluctance about the manner and moment of the execution, even if her underlying view of Mary as a dangerous, ongoing threat (as Source 1 argues) may have been something Elizabeth privately shared.

Level-of-response marking (20 marks). Level 1 (1–5): Simple, largely descriptive comments on the sources with little or no cross-referencing between them, and little own knowledge. Level 2 (6–10): Some comparison of the two sources' content, with limited evaluation of reliability/provenance, and some own knowledge used but not well integrated. Level 3 (11–15): Clear cross-referencing of both sources, evaluating what each shows about Elizabeth's reluctance (or otherwise), supported by relevant own knowledge (e.g. Elizabeth's earlier delay, the Davison affair); a developed judgement on the extent of support for the view. Level 4 (16–20): Sophisticated synthesis of both sources together with precise own knowledge, weighing corroboration and contradiction between them (including source-based awareness of the diarist's own uncertainty about Elizabeth's motives), and reaching a well-substantiated, nuanced overall judgement on how far the sources support the view, addressing the question of 'how far' explicitly rather than simply 'yes/no'. Max 20 marks.

Interpretation A presents a coherent and partly convincing case: it is true that the Babington Plot evidence removed any reasonable ambiguity about a genuine threat to Elizabeth's life, and it is entirely plausible that a monarch as politically experienced as Elizabeth understood the risks — to the principle of monarchy itself, and to relations with Scotland and Catholic Europe — of executing a fellow anointed queen, and therefore hesitated for calculated political reasons rather than personal doubt about the desirability of Mary's removal. This interpretation is well supported by Elizabeth's demonstrated political shrewdness throughout her reign, and by the reality that the Babington evidence genuinely was more conclusive than that behind earlier plots. However, Interpretation B offers a more complete explanation of the specific, detailed evidence of Elizabeth's behaviour both before and after the execution. It is well documented that Elizabeth resisted pressure from Walsingham, Burghley and Parliament to act against Mary for a period of years before 1586, not merely months, which sits uneasily with Interpretation A's suggestion that her resistance was simply tactical delay once conclusive evidence existed — the resistance clearly predates the Babington evidence itself. Furthermore, Elizabeth's documented fury toward William Davison — sufficiently serious and specific that he was imprisoned in the Tower and made a public scapegoat — is difficult to explain purely as diplomatic theatre; theatre performed for foreign courts would not typically require punishing one's own official so severely and specifically over the precise mechanics of how and when the warrant was sent, a level of concrete, personal consequence that suggests real anger at losing control over the decision's timing, consistent with Interpretation B's account of Council manoeuvring. Interpretation A's claim that Elizabeth's later anger was 'theatre performed for a foreign audience' also does not fully account for evidence that her anger was expressed within her own court and household, not merely in formal diplomatic correspondence to Scotland and Europe — private courtiers, not just foreign ambassadors, recorded witnessing her fury. On balance, while Interpretation A correctly captures the genuine strategic logic for execution that Elizabeth likely shared, Interpretation B provides the more convincing account of the specific manner in which the decision was actually taken — through sustained Council pressure that ultimately outpaced Elizabeth's own preferred timeline and degree of personal control, explaining both her long resistance beforehand and her furious, specific response to Davison afterwards.

Level-of-response marking (25 marks). Level 1 (1–6): Simple, largely descriptive summary of one or both interpretations, with little evaluation and minimal own knowledge. Level 2 (7–13): Some evaluation of the interpretations (e.g. identifying a strength or weakness of each) with limited use of own contextual knowledge to test their validity; a basic preference is stated but not well justified. Level 3 (14–19): Clear, developed evaluation of both interpretations, using relevant own knowledge (e.g. the timeline of Elizabeth's resistance, the Davison affair) to test and challenge each; a reasoned preference is given with supporting justification. Level 4 (20–25): Sophisticated, sustained evaluation of both interpretations that directly tests specific claims within each against precise own knowledge, identifies genuine strengths in the less-favoured interpretation as well as the preferred one, and reaches a well-substantiated, independently argued judgement on which is more convincing and why. Max 25 marks.

Between 1558 and 1603, Elizabeth I faced serious dangers from both Catholic conspiracy at home and the prospect of foreign invasion abroad — and the two threats were, in practice, closely connected rather than cleanly separable, which complicates any simple judgement that one mattered more than the other.

The case for domestic Catholic plots as the greater threat rests on their persistence and their direct, repeated targeting of Elizabeth's own life and throne. The Northern Rebellion of 1569, led by the Catholic earls of Northumberland and Westmorland, showed that regional, dynastic Catholic loyalty could still be mobilised against the regime within England itself, and was followed the next year by Pope Pius V's bull Regnans in Excelsis (1570), excommunicating Elizabeth and, in effect, licensing Catholic subjects to work for her removal. The Ridolfi Plot (1571), the Throckmorton Plot (1583) and finally the Babington Plot (1586) each aimed directly at replacing Elizabeth with Mary, Queen of Scots, and each was uncovered chiefly through the intelligence operations built by Walsingham — evidence, in itself, of how seriously the regime regarded the domestic Catholic threat as an ongoing, structural danger rather than a series of isolated incidents.

Yet the foreign threat, above all from Spain, was of an entirely different order of scale, and by the later part of the reign arguably eclipsed the danger from individual plots. The Spanish Armada of 1588 represented an attempt at outright invasion and regime change by the greatest military power in Europe, and further Spanish invasion fleets in 1596 and 1597 (though scattered by storms before reaching England) show that this was a sustained strategic threat, not a single dramatic episode. Spain's direct military intervention in Ireland, culminating in the landing at Kinsale in 1601, demonstrates that by the end of the reign, foreign invasion was being pursued through a different, less direct route — via Ireland — precisely because a direct assault on England itself had already failed so comprehensively in 1588.

Crucially, the two categories of threat were rarely independent of one another: Mary, Queen of Scots, was herself both the intended beneficiary of domestic Catholic plots and a claimant with genuine international backing, and Philip II's Armada was launched partly in response to England's support for the Dutch revolt and partly in the hope that English Catholics would rise in support once Spanish forces landed — the assumption being that domestic conspiracy and foreign invasion would work together, not separately. This suggests the clearest way to assess the two dangers is not as rival categories, but as mutually reinforcing: plots at home raised the prospect of a receptive population for any invading force, while the possibility of foreign invasion gave domestic conspirators grounds for hope that an English rising might succeed with external support.

On balance, while domestic Catholic plots were more frequent and directly threatened Elizabeth's own life across the whole reign, the Spanish Armada of 1588 represented, in scale and potential consequence, the single greatest danger the regime faced — a genuine attempt at conquest that no individual plot, however serious, came close to matching in the scale of forces committed. I would therefore only partly accept the judgement: Catholic plots were the more persistent threat, but the prospect of foreign invasion, when it materialised in 1588, was the more dangerous single crisis of the reign.

Level-of-response marking (20 marks). Level 1 (1–5): Limited, generalised knowledge (e.g. naming the Armada or a plot without detail); the question is addressed only implicitly; weak organisation and communication. Level 2 (6–10): Some relevant, accurate knowledge of both domestic plots and foreign threats, but largely descriptive/narrative rather than evaluative; adequate organisation and communication. Level 3 (11–15): Good, accurate knowledge of specific plots (e.g. Ridolfi, Throckmorton, Babington) and foreign threats (e.g. the 1588 Armada), with a clear line of argument comparing their relative danger; developed supporting evidence; clear organisation and communication. Level 4 (16–20): Sustained, precise knowledge used analytically to compare domestic and foreign threats directly, including recognition of the connections between them (e.g. Spain's reliance on domestic Catholic support, Mary as a link between both categories of threat); a well-substantiated, independent judgement on the relative scale of danger; consistently high-quality organisation, argument and written communication. Max 20 marks.