by Caro, Jane;
She grasped me tightly by the hand and pulled me away from Robin. I followed her willingly enough, knowing she would take the matter no further. As she hustled me away, I turned and blew a kiss to the boy I loved – still love, to this very day. All I could think then, giddy girl that I was, as I hurried across the grass after Kat was that Robin Dudley loved me and wanted to marry me. For that brief sunlit moment it was all I cared about in the world.
Far too quickly, real life intervened. My brother died. Robin and his father and brothers (poor Guildford) landed in the Tower. My sister Mary claimed her throne and I became the next in line. Never again was I to be so unimportant or so free.
All these long years later, I regret that I could not marry Robin and experience the delights of the flesh, yet I am also grateful that I could not. I did not surrender to my desires (not even beneath that oak tree) and so I remained – not just master of myself – but master of my destiny and my kingdom. Our roles were reversed. He was the Delilah to my Samson. If I had given in to him I would have been drained of all my power. No wonder I regret and I do not regret in equal measure.
‘Philip of Spain would not invade if all his military effort achieved was merely to put the crown of England on the Queen of Scots’ head. We have done his work for him by getting her out of his way.’
William Cecil, now Lord Burleigh (father of Robert who stands at this moment in the corner), was back in favour after having been banished from court for his part in the unauthorised execution of my cousin. It had taken me months to recover my equilibrium after the death of Mary, Queen of Scots and I had not thought any year could be as fraught as 1587. When the new year at last dawned, I was filled with relief and hope. I thought I had put my troubles behind me. How naive I was.
Perhaps it was no coincidence that the execution of my Catholic rival was so closely followed by the threat of invasion. It was what I had feared and one of the reasons I had kept alive that woman so many called the ‘viper at my bosom’. I remember explaining as much to Cecil when we heard warlike rumblings from our old enemy Spain.
When we received the news of King Philip’s great enterprise I could not resist reminding Cecil of the responsibility he bore. He was, as always, equal to my challenge.
‘You may be right, good madam, but while the Queen of Scots lived, plots against you would be fomented and there were many in England who would have rallied to her cause, if she had looked like she might win it. There are none in England who wish to live under the Spanish yoke. Nay, not even the Catholics among your subjects. We lived under Spanish rule during the reign of your sister and none recalls her time with affection. When the King of Spain attacks, you will find no traitors in your ranks.’
He had a point and indeed the English rallied around their queen with an enthusiasm that touched me.
Still, as God is my witness, I did all I could to stave off the threat of war. I would not allow Admiral Drake to burn all the Spanish ships after his daring and successful raids in Corunna and Cadiz. I hoped our victory would convince Philip that we were not to be tangled with. When Drake towed home their great treasure ship – the São Filipe – I thought the loss of so much wealth might also make the Spaniards think twice. I was wrong. Nevertheless, I was no longer a new queen. I had been to war before and I had learnt from that experience. I was determined not to make the same mistakes. I would not relinquish control of my army or my treasury again, not even to the man I loved.
‘I will not give you the powers you seek, my lords.’
Hawkins and Howard, the captains of my fleet, were furious. I could see it in the high colour of their cheeks and in the way they clenched their fists and stood so straight and tense before me. I cared not. We had been arguing up hill and down dale for hours. At first they had spoken to me gently, in tones reserved for a novice. This had not helped their case.
‘Do not speak to me as if I have no understanding of what confronts us! Have I not proved to you yet, over these many years, that I put the safety and fortune of my kingdom above all other considerations?’
‘All marvel at your wisdom, Your Grace.’
‘Nonsense! Do not flatter me with honeyed words. You think like all others of your sex that war is not the business of females. Well, I tell you what is my business as your queen and that is the health of my treasury. You would drain it, my lords, and ask me to grant you permission to do so. What a great fool you must think me.’
‘Penny-pinching and war have no place together!’ Admiral Howard had raised his voice in frustration. He was standing with his back to the fireplace and took a step towards me. I did not take a backward one. I flashed a warning look and stood my ground, but I forgave him his passion. Indeed, I matched it.
‘Aye, it is easy to spend that which does not belong to you. I have no desire to win a war only to find I have saved a bankrupt kingdom. If fight we must – and I still parley with the Duke of Parma, so all hope of peace is not yet lost – then I will watch the cost with a close and rigorous eye. I, and I alone, will decide how much we spend and on what.’
Admiral Hawkins opened his mouth to protest but I raised my hand to stop him. ‘Enough, my lords! If and when we go to war we will speak again – and be assured that I have no intention of letting the King of Spain take my throne from under me. In the meantime, get my fleet into readiness and we will wait to see which way the wind blows.’
The two great naval captains left my presence with barely concealed bad grace. I could well imagine what they would say about me once they had left my palace, but I did not care. If I could avoid war with Spain, I would.
I failed in my quest for peace. The Spaniards were determined to have my crown and cared not how much blood they spilt in the getting of it. I was true to my word, however. I kept account of every penny my commanders and my admirals spent on preparations. I approved every decision and every appointment. I might be a woman but I was the ruler of my kingdom and I was not – not for one single moment – going to let any man-jack of them forget it.
Howard and Hawkins had control of the fleet, Lord Hunsdon was my general on land. My Robin was lieutenant-general; it was his forces that would face the Spaniards first when they made landfall. I wanted to be with my troops as they awaited invasion. If we were to be victorious I wanted to be part of that victory. If we were to be defeated I wanted to die among them. I may have prevaricated while there remained hopes of peace, but once my attempts to avoid war had failed, my blood was up. I was excited, exhilarated and I felt no fear. I sent word to Robin that I would set up camp with my troops at Tilbury, but he refused to hear of it. He arranged for me to stay a mile off in the house of a Mr Rich and from there I could visit the camp.
There was an eerie quiet over the military encampment as I made my way by horseback to dine with Robin in his tent. As it was August, the sun was still high despite the late hour. Sunlit or not, the men were subdued as they settled in around their cooking fires. As I rode through their ranks, I could hear the murmuring of quiet conversations and the occasional shout of laughter. The men tended to their meals, or played at cards or simply lay quietly, stretched out in the mild summer evening.
As I threaded my way I was reminded of another night such as this, many years before. I sensed the same tension in the air that I had witnessed the night my sister Mary made ready to fight for her kingdom against the usurper Lady Jane Grey. I thought of the young soldiers from that long ago army who would now be grey bearded and sitting at home by their firesides, waiting for news. All England held its collective breath in the summer of 1553, just as they did again in August 1588. It is odd to realise now that neither of those great armies ever drew (or shed) a drop of blood. But we did not know that night what the dawn would bring.
‘I find I am impatient for the fight. It seems I may have the heart of a warrior, after all.’
I was dining with Robin in his tent. I was in a strange mood. There was
something exciting about the novelty of eating a meal at a table on rugs thrown across the bare grass. No doubt it was also the whiff of impending invasion that was so stimulating. Danger concentrates the mind.
‘It will come soon enough—’ Then Robin groaned and clutched at his belly. He had been doing this often of late.
‘Are you quite well, my lord?’
‘It is nothing: the grippe. Too much rich food. I have never been able to curb my appetite.’
‘But you have merely picked at your meal. You have made me look greedy.’
And indeed I had finished my pigeon pie, even polishing off the very last of the crust, using it to sop up the gravy. War made me hungry. It had the opposite effect on Robin. His pie was crumbled into bits, but I could not tell whether he had tasted any of it.
‘You are growing thin. You need to keep your strength up.’
‘I can afford to lose a little of my girth so such a loss is more to the good than otherwise.’
Robin had grown a little portly as he had aged, but I did not like to see him fading. His health mattered to me, more than that of anyone else in my kingdom.
‘Have a care, old friend.’ I took his hand in mine. ‘I cannot do without you.’
Suddenly there was a kerfuffle outside and a messenger hastened into our presence. He gave Robin a note. As my lieutenant-general read the parchment, its contents made him swear great oaths under his breath. I stood up and walked around the table so I could read it over his shoulder.
‘What is it?’
‘The Duke of Parma has embarked all his forces and is even now crossing the Channel.’
My heart pounded in my chest. The moment was almost upon us, but still I did not feel fear. Only exhilaration. I turned towards the entrance of the tent and made haste to leave.
‘Stay, Your Grace. They will not land before daybreak and I would rather the men got their rest. I will wake them and ready them before the dawn, but for now, let them sleep.’
‘And you must sleep too.’
‘Little chance of that. I will make plans.’
‘May I speak to the troops in the morning before the battle is begun? I have brought with me the white horse Robert Cecil gave me for the purpose.’
Robin gave me a long look. I could see that he was weighing the possibility of risk to my person and the problem of delays against the benefits of such a proposal. I remained silent. I would do whatever it was he wanted me to do. He was my general, but I hoped he would allow me to give my soldiers Godspeed.
‘It is a good plan, Your Majesty.’ And he nodded his assent. ‘Soldiers go better into battle when their hearts are as stout as their forearms.’
The next morning, very early, I left the house of Mr Rich and rode once more towards my troops at Tilbury. Despite lookouts having been posted since first light, there was still no sign of the Spanish Armada, and, as the day was clear, we would see them on the horizon long before they made landfall. Notwithstanding my feather bed, I had not slept. Instead I had gone over and over in my head what I intended to say to my troops. In the darkest hours of the night I had also wondered what might happen to me if the Spanish won the impending battle. The thought of what they might do to me if they took me alive was horrifying. I could not get the tales of the humiliations suffered by King Richard III at the hands of my grandfather on Bosworth Field out of my mind.
In the morning I hid a dagger in my garter. If I were captured I would kill myself with it. I hoped I might take a few of the scoundrels with me, withal. It is fortunate my skill with such a weapon was never tested. As I think back upon it now, I almost laugh at my foolhardiness. I doubt I could have killed myself, let alone anyone else. I had no idea then how hard it is to die.
I dressed with care. I wore a silver breastplate and carried a silver helmet resplendent with white feathers. I dressed as a warrior queen. My white horse was brought to me, saddled and bridled. The beast’s coat had been brushed to a shine and its long grey mane and tail fluttered in the cool early morning breeze. I mounted the horse and it ducked its head and snorted as it felt my weight on the saddle. I patted the animal on the neck as it sidestepped a little and fought the bridle. Perhaps my barely restrained excitement had communicated itself to the creature.
‘Whoa … whoa,’ I whispered into the mare’s ear as its hooves clattered on the flagstones. ‘You are my battle-charger. We will face whatever the day brings together.’
My quiet words and firm hand on the reins did their job. The horse settled down after a few tosses of its magnificent head and we were able to ride calmly towards the battlefield.
As we drew closer to the encampment, another of my generals, Henry Norris, rode out to greet me. He was accompanied by a phalanx of soldiers. Once our paths crossed, they immediately surrounded me. I pulled up.
‘How now, Sir Henry? Why the armed guard?’
‘It is to protect you, Your Majesty, as you ride through the rough soldiers.’
‘Oh no, my lord, I will not appear as if I am afraid of my troops. They will be fighting for me on this day and I will not insult them by requiring a guard. I do not wish to keep my distance from them, nor to have them kept distant from me. We will live and die together this day, so we will speak together as friends, as comrades, as equals before God. Dismiss your guard.’
I rode among my troops unguarded, as I wished. Robin walked beside me, holding my horse. Norris and Robin’s stepson, the Earl of Essex, walked beside me on the other side; nevertheless I was alone.
The troops stepped back and made way for us until we reached a little rise. I stopped my horse and looked about me. The day was fine and clear and as yet there were still no shadows on the horizon. A soft breeze blew across the headland, tossing the white feathers in my helmet and ruffling my horse’s mane. I stood in my stirrups and looked at the men around me. Many of them fell to their knees and most removed their headgear – helmets if they had them; caps and bonnets if they did not. I motioned for them to rise and looked down upon their honest English faces.
‘My loving people, 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.’
I could not help glancing at Norris as I said this and he had the grace to look away.
‘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 among you, as you see, at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of battle, to live or die among you all, to lay down my life for my God and my kingdom and for my people, my honour and my blood, even in the dust. I know I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king and a king of England too, and think it foul scorn that Parma or Spain, or any prince of Europe should dare to invade the borders of my realm. The 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 meantime my lieutenant-general shall be in my stead.’
Now, I paused to look at my general, my Robin. His head was down yet I could see that he – like all of us comrades in arms – was overcome with emotion. I took a deep breath and continued.
‘A more noble or worthy subject no prince has ever commanded, nor do I doubt your obedience to my general. Judging by your concord in the camp, and your valour on the field, we shall shortly have a famous victory over those enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people.’
I looked down once more at Robin and saw that he had tears coursing down his cheeks. I had neve
r loved him more. The troops set up a hullabaloo the like of which I have never heard and threw all their caps and helmets into the air, then caught them and threw them up again. I could feel their love and their ferocity vibrating in the air. I had never felt more like a queen than I did at that moment and I had never felt more like a woman as I watched Robin weep. It was, I know, our finest moment.
We did not know then that there would be no fight with the Spanish that day, no, nor any day while I sat upon England’s throne. We did not know till sometime later that Drake had seen fit to send fireships to put the fear of God into the Spanish fleet. Or that God, seeing his work, had in His turn seen fit to send a fierce storm to scatter the Spanish Armada and help my brave captains in their endeavour to protect the sovereignty of my kingdom and my crown.
We had a great victory and we did not have to fight. Men may have regretted the lack of glory, but, for me, it was the perfect triumph.
The door into the chamber opens. It brings with it a draught of air. I open my eyes and see a messenger enter and take a few long strides towards Robert Cecil. My secretary rises from his stool and the messenger hands him a sealed document. Once I might have wondered what it contained. No longer. Yet, for reasons I do not immediately understand, I feel dread.
Suddenly, I have left this darkened room stinking of stale air, and I am back in the Presence Chamber at St James’s Palace. There is an odour of wood smoke in the air, not from the fire in the hearth – the chimneys all draw well at that modern and comfortable building – but from the bonfires that were burning all over England to celebrate our miraculous and bloodless defeat of the Armada. Church bells were ringing too. I can hear them again now, reverberating through the streets and alleyways and across the Thames. They had been ringing on and off for weeks. I am standing by an open window, enjoying the exuberance of my capital. If I could escape from my palace and roam the streets among my people, I would, but the closest I can get to them is through this window. I stand and catch snatches of conversation from those who come and go past this great house.