Unreasonable in her grief, the Queen begged the Council to spare no effort to regain the town which she called the chief jewel of our realm. The Council pointed out to her the cost of such an operation and if the town were regained it would have to be held at even more expense, for it was obvious that, having captured it, the French would be determined to retain it— and in short, the town was not worth the effort of recapturing it.
Mary mourned deeply. She said that when she died they would find “Calais” written across her heart.
Meanwhile life at Hatfield was changing. There was a less rigorous guard on me. Sir Thomas Pope had always been my good friend so there was little change in his attitude toward me. It was different with others. Visitors came to Hatfield from Court and there was a clear indication in their manner toward me that they already regarded me as their Queen.
One of my best friends was Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, an ardent Protestant. In fact I detected a certain fanaticism in him which I did not share, for I did not like that stern unrelenting attitude from whichever side it came. It was dangerous, bred cruelty and intolerance and prevented one from changing one's mind when it would be wise to do so.
All the same I knew that Sir Nicholas would be a good friend to me because in spite of recent deviation for form's sake, I represented the Protestants. He had been suspect at the time of Wyatt's rebellion and had only narrowly escaped death then. He was well versed in political affairs and had a wide knowledge of what was happening at Court; and his visits to Hatfield were becoming more frequent. I knew from Sir Nicholas how rapidly the Queen's health was declining.
“There are rumors of her death,” he said, “even while she lives.”
“One must be careful not to be misled by rumor,” I replied.
“Indeed that is so, Your Grace. The Queen is so sick and clearly on her death-bed. People are being put in the pillory because they are saying she is already dead.”
“I shall need proof before I believe it. And the burnings?” I continued.
“They go on apace. It would seem as though the Queen believes that the more people who die in torment, the greater her glory in Heaven. As I left London a poor woman named Alice Driver was preparing for her death and the people had come out to watch her last minutes. She had already had her ears cut off and was calling Her Majesty Jezebel as they tied her to the stake.”
I shivered. “The Queen knows of this… and death is close to her!”
“The Queen believes she does God's work, Your Grace.”
“It is beyond my understanding, Master Throckmorton,” I said.
“The people are looking to you, Your Grace. They say when your turn comes there will be an end to this misery.”
“There shall be, Nicholas, my friend. There shall be. It would appear to be near now but we must step with caution. I have faced death too many times to want to challenge it. I have my enemies. It is not too late for them to turn against me… while the Queen lives.”
“Which cannot be long, my lady.”
“You speak carelessly. I will not claim the throne until I am certain that my sister is dead. There is a ring she wears day and night. She calls it her betrothal ring because it was given to her by Philip. I will not believe that she is dead, until I hold that ring in my hand.”
“It shall be my duty, Your Grace, to bring it to you.”
And so I waited at Hatfield and each day when I rose, I wondered: Is this the one?
* * *
THERE WERE SO many visitors to Hatfield, so many who wished me well. I often said to Kat: “How many of these men would be coming to me now if they thought I had little chance of mounting the throne? How many come for love of me? How many for hopes of what good will come to them?”
“It is hard for queens to tell the difference, my love,” said Kat, wise for once.
“Perhaps one can never be sure and since one cannot it is well to make certain that one never has a chance of finding out… unless one wants to.”
“Oh, you are a shrewd one,” said Kat.
At least I was sure of her love. It had remained steadfast through all my adversities and so would it be to the end of our days.
We had one visitor at Hatfield who threw Kat into a flutter of excitement. In fact it had the same effect on me, though I was more discreet about it.
So many visitors to Hatfield—so what could be so special about one more? He was exceptionally tall—not too broad but broad enough to give an impression of masculine strength to his elegance. He had dark hair and eyes, with a fresh complexion and the most perfectly shaped features I had ever seen… not too finely chiseled, as Kat said afterward, but with that little touch of rough hew which was so becoming in a man. His clothes were rich, the colors not overbright but tastefully blended. He was the most handsome, the most graceful and the most attractive man I had ever seen—even including Thomas Seymour.
I never forgot that meeting; all through the years I have carried with me the memory of Robert Dudley as he was when he presented himself to me on that autumn morning.
I was told he begged an audience of me though I could never imagine Robert begging anything. He would ask it in a manner which suggested he was sure of success. Confidence was ever his way.
When they told me that Lord Robert Dudley was asking to see me, I was excited even before I saw him. I remembered the boy I had known at my father's Court; even then there must have been some quality in him which impressed me; then there had been the time when we had been in the Tower together and the fact of his nearby presence had given me courage and lightened the dark days. Now here he was at Hatfield asking an audience.
I went down and received him in the great hall.
When he saw me he fell onto his knees. He took my hand and kissed it and lifted his eyes to my face.
“Welcome to Hatfield, Lord Robert,” I said.
“My gracious lady,” he replied. “It is indeed good of you to see me.”
“There is no need to remain on your knees,” I told him.
He rose and then I saw how tall he was, while he looked at me as though in wonder and I felt a glow of pleasure, for his gaze was not only of respect for my rank but deep admiration for my person.
“Why have you come, Lord Robert?” I said to hide a certain confusion. “Is it for the same reason that many come to Hatfield now?”
“I have just returned from battle.”
“Yes. I believe you did good service for your country. And now you are here…as many others are.”
“I came to bring you gold,” he said. “I have sold some of my estates so that I might have the money. I trust you will not need it, but if there should be trouble it would be well for you to be prepared.”
“You bring me money, Lord Robert!”
“I have it here. My man will bring it to you. Your Grace, if it should be necessary to fight for what is yours by right, here is one who will stand beside you and cares so much for your cause that he has sold certain of his estates to raise money for any need or emergency which may arise.”
“You are indeed a friend,” I said, “and I thank you.”
“There was a time when you and I were both prisoners in the Tower,” he said, his eyes never leaving my face. “There was a young boy…”
“Little Martin,” I replied. “He brought me your messages of cheer until they stopped him.”
“Your Grace remembers! It is more than I dared hope. I never forgot, and I shall be with you should you need my help.”
“Thank you, Lord Robert. I accept your offer and your friendship.”
“I shall be watchful of Your Grace. There is much coming and going on the road to Hatfield. The Queen is very sick. If anything should go wrong, Hatfield could become a prison.”
“If aught goes wrong? What mean you by that?”
“None knows more than Your Grace what a dangerous world we live in.”
“Lord Robert, are you telling me there are plots against me?”
“I kn
ow of none. None would confide in me. I have always been Your Grace's most ardent supporter.”
“Except,” I said, a little sharply, “when you were among those who tried to put Lady Jane Grey on the throne.”
“That was my father, and as he was my father I was forced to stand with him. It was no disloyalty to Your Grace. I am yours to command. My lands and goods are at your disposal. This I have brought with me is but a token. Whatever need you should have of me, I am yours … these arms, this heart… this man.”
I was so touched I held out my hand, which he took and kissed fervently. He was a little too bold, perhaps, a little too intense, but I was honest enough to admit that I liked his fervor.
I said: “Thank you, Lord Robert. You may go now. I shall not forget this magnanimous offer. I may hold you to it, you know.”
“I shall be here whenever you need me.”
He bowed low and departed.
I went to my room. I did not want to speak to anyone for a while. I just wanted to think of him. I would remember every word he had said, every inflection of his voice, every expression which had touched his handsome face, the ardor in his eyes.
I should see him again soon and perhaps then I should be Queen.
* * *
MY SISTER KNEW that she was dying. I heard that she had received a letter from Philip in which he urged her to name me her heir. I did not see that that was important. I was her heir on the terms of my father's will. It was not for Mary to name me, or anyone else. But it did show that Philip realized I must follow her. He must have been extremely nervous about French aspirations through Mary Stuart and I still believed that in his heart he was hoping to marry me. I was certain that he was a little enamored of my person and because of his nature he would look forward to marriage with one who was young and attractive; moreover, in his arrogant way he would think he was quite capable of bending me to his will. How mistaken he was!
I was a little surprised when two members of Mary's Council arrived. I thought they might well have come to announce her death and I was wondering whether I should believe them. I had to watch for traps. I had said that I would not accept that my sister was dead until I held her gold and ebony ring in my hands, and I meant that.
But the councilors had not come to kneel to me as their Queen. They bowed with due deference and one of them said: “The Queen has sent us to Your Grace to tell you that it is her intention to bequeath the royal crown to you. In return for this favor there are three conditions with which you must comply. The first is that you will not change the Privy Council; the second that you will make no alteration in religion; and thirdly that you will discharge the Queen's debts and satisfy her creditors.”
I felt anger rising within me, but I said calmly enough that I could satisfy her on the last of these matters with the utmost ease as she was asking nothing more than what was just. “As to the others,” I went on, “there is no reason why I should thank the Queen for her intention to give me the crown for she has neither the power to bestow it upon me nor can I be deprived of it. It is my hereditary right. I respectfully point out that I should be allowed to choose my own councilors as she chose hers.”
I could see they were really taken aback and I really believe they thought I should be overcome with gratitude because the Queen was giving her consent to what was mine by right. But now I had come to the dangerous clause: religion. It was always religion which caused the greatest trouble. The Queen was not yet dead and I still had to walk warily. I paused to consider my reply. Then I said: “As to religion, I promise this much, that I will not change it providing only that it can be proved by the word of God which shall be the only foundation and rule of my religion.”
They looked bemused, as well they might. Experience had taught me that it is always wise to be obtuse when discussing religion, and if one could bring in God as one's advocate so much the better.
The Councilors went away. I fancied they were gravely considering my words and I felt that I was getting very near to the crown.
* * *
THE NEXT CALLER was the Count de Feria, the Ambassador from Philip himself. He was extremely affable, and I was inclined to be a little aloof, for I fancied I did not have to be so careful in manner toward him as I had been in the past. He and his master would immediately lose their importance when my sister was no longer there to sustain it and it pleased me to let these arrogant Spaniards know that England was slipping out of their clutches.
He began by conveying Philip's friendly feelings toward me.
“He has ever been kindly disposed toward Your Grace,” he said. “You will remember that it was through his persuasion that you came to Court.”
“I remember it well,” I replied.
“Moreover, it was he who advised the Queen to make you her heir and you must feel gratitude toward him for this.”
There was nothing which annoyed me more than to be told that my sister had had to be persuaded to give me that to which I had a right, and I felt my anger flaring up. I said coldly: “This was no matter of persuasion. I am the heir to the throne by right of birth. As my father's daughter, I am so named in his will. Therefore no matter what your master said to my sister, my right to the throne is my own, and I believe the people of England will see right done.”
“I am sure you will be grateful for the continued friendship of my master.”
“Friendship is always to be preferred to enmity and I shall remain friendly with all those who mean well to my country.”
“Through his marriage my master became King of this country.”
“He was the Queen's consort it is true, although he spent very little time with her.”
“He had so many duties in Spain…”
“And now he will be even more engrossed in his duties,” I said, referring to the death of the Emperor Charles which had occurred the previous month.
De Feria could not deny that. I was smiling, inwardly wondering what he would report to his master.
I went on: “As you know the King, your master, urged me more than once to marry Philibert of Savoy. Ah, if I had, where should I be now? Not here, most certainly. I should have been ill advised to have listened to him.”
“My master believed at the time that it would have been an excellent match for you. He was eager for your good.”
That was too much and I need not be subservient now.
I said sharply: “Your master has the good of his own country ever at heart, and that is all that can be expected of a ruler. My sister lost favor with her people when she married a foreigner and brought him to these shores.”
De Feria was nonplussed. I wondered if he had been told to sound me out about marriage with Philip. If he had, he evidently decided that this was not the moment to raise the matter. Nor was it, with Philip's poor wife, my sister, not yet dead, certain though it was that her end was imminent.
He went away somewhat crestfallen and I felt I had handled the situation very well.
* * *
THE TENSION WAS MOUNTING. I wanted to be alone to think. Mary was dying. It could not be many days now. I went into the gardens and as I was there I heard the sound of horses' hoofs. A party of riders were close. I stood still, my heart beating fast. Then I saw them.
They were members of the Council and they could only be here on one mission.
They dismounted and came toward me. They fell to their knees.
“God save Queen Elizabeth!” they cried, and they took my hand and, in turn, kissed it and swore to serve me.
I listened to them and was exultant. This was the greatest moment of my life.
I was overcome with joy but perhaps because of the vicissitudes through which I had passed I felt strangely humble.
Often during my most dangerous moments I had made Kat read Psalm 118 with me and I knew it by heart.
“It is better to trust in the Lord than to put confidence in princes.
“Thou hast thrust sore at me that I might fall; but the Lord help
ed me.”
Often I had repeated those words and they came once more into my mind and I cried aloud: “This is the Lord's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes.”
* * *
EVERYONE WAS NOW converging on Hatfield, all eager to proclaim me Queen.
Nicholas Throckmorton arrived with the gold and ebony ring, and he was a little put out because the Council had reached me first. I thanked him for his good service, which I promised I should not forget.
There was one other who came riding at full speed on a magnificent white horse.
I was delighted to see him and when he knelt down, kissed my hand and cried: “God save the Queen!” I almost wept with an emotion which I had to conceal.
“I would I had been the first to reach you,” he said. “As soon as I heard the news, for which I was earnestly waiting, I took my fastest horse. I wished to be the first to call you Queen and offer my life in your service.”
“I forget not that you came earlier,” I said. “Rest assured, Lord Robert, that you will not be forgotten.”
“My lady…so young…so fair… and a crown to carry!”
“Do not fear for me,” I answered. “I have long been prepared.”
“Fortune is smiling on England this day,” he said.
“Perhaps too it will smile on Robert Dudley,” I said. “I offer you the post of my Master of Horse. What say you?”
He was on his knees again. His eyes sparkled with pleasure and all the time they watched me. I was young…so was he. We were of an age.
“Master of the Queen's Horse,” he said slowly. “There is nothing I could have wished for more… because it will bring me close to Your Majesty. I shall be beside you for as long as you need me.”
Oh, glorious day! Dull November perhaps, but for me no day could have been brighter.
Truly it was marvelous in our eyes. At last I had my crown. I had the homage of my subjects, the love of my people—and the passionate admiration of Robert Dudley.
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