Elizabeth I (109 page)

William Knollys glanced over at him. “My own nephew! I never thought—but we were well provided for. In fact, we were sent entertainment in the form of Essex's wife, his sister Penelope, and his mother, Lettice.”

“Those ladies did their best to help us pass the hours, although they were more anxious than we were,” said Popham. “I had no doubt that our side would prevail and we would be rescued, whereas these poor women were victims. Their men would go down to doom, and they knew it.”

“Nonetheless, they made a brave show of it, talking about the latest plays, offering us dainties and wine, and making merry,” said the rotund Worcester. “It was bizarre.”

“Gorges let us out,” said Knollys. “He had gotten back ahead of Essex and pretended he had orders to release us. He is no fool. He knew their number was up.”

“So Essex will get a surprise when he returns?” I asked.

“The sort of surprise he deserves,” said Worcester grimly.

We had a supper for all the councillors and attendants in the privy chamber.

“My loyal friends!” I cried, rising. “I drink to all of you.” I raised my goblet. “Without you, I would not be what I am. Never think I am not mindful of that.”

They rose with me and solemnly drank. Then Cecil said, “This night will see us safe, with all danger passed.”

“God be praised!” said Knollys. “God be praised for sustaining our glorious prince on her throne.”

I heard all the details of what came to pass at Essex House that night. Essex and his few captains returned as dusk closed in and scurried safely into the house. After that the admiral's forces cut off their access to the river. On the other side, Lord Burghley and others forced their way into the courtyard. The house was surrounded. They began sniping at the windows, and shattered glass flew everywhere.

Inside, Essex was frantically burning his incriminating correspondence; he sent his lieutenants out to keep firing long enough to hold the Crown forces at bay until he could complete his task. Then he and Southampton took to the roof in response to the demand that they surrender. Southampton yelled, “Only if we are given hostages to guarantee our safe return!”

“Yes! Yes!” Essex had cried, from the roof, his cloak flying, a silhouette of black desperation.

“Rebels cannot bargain with princes,” shouted the admiral.

A cease-fire was arranged to allow the women to leave. Chivalrously, the admiral allowed them two hours. The ladies of the household poured out. When the time was over, the admiral drew up the cannon.

“We will demolish the house and everyone in it,” he said. “Surrender now!”

More men joined Essex on the roof. “'Tis better to perish by cannon fire than the rope or the ax,” cried old Lord Sandys.

But the younger men were of less fiery mettle. After much deliberation, Essex walked to the edge of the roof and cried, “We will surrender under three conditions!”

“What are those?” answered the admiral. “Her Majesty will not compromise herself.”

“First, that only you shall arrest us, and that we are treated in a civil manner, not as criminals. Second, that we are granted a fair and impartial trial,” he said.

“I can guarantee that,” said the admiral. “And your third condition?”

“That I be permitted my personal chaplain, Abdyias Ashton, to attend me in prison.”

“Granted!” cried the admiral. “Now surrender yourselves.”

In a few moments the men came out and knelt before the admiral. Essex put his shining sword into the admiral's outstretched hands, and Southampton likewise. Slowly and deliberately, so did the others following behind them.

It was ten o'clock, a cold and windy night. The rebellion had lasted only twelve hours. Now the tide was against them, and they could not go downstream to the Tower. Instead, they were ferried across the river to Lambeth Palace. The oars dipped in and out of the fretful water, conveying them to their perpetual enclosure. Freedom was gone.

When Cecil told me, I sank down on my cushions in my inner chamber.

“It is over, then,” I said.

“Yes, Your Majesty. God be thanked, it is over,” he said.

“Go to your rooms; rest,” I said. “What a long night. But they are not yet in the Tower.”

“They will be soon,” he said. “We are only waiting for the tide to turn. It should, by two o'clock.”

“Until I know they are in the Tower and locked up, I shall stand vigilant,” I said. “You may rest—your job is done—but I may not.”

“Your Majesty, I think you can trust your servants to do the rest,” he said.

I laughed. “It is no reflection on you if you sleep now.
Your
task is done; but I still must guard the gates and entrances to my realm.”

He bowed. “As Your Majesty wishes,” he said.

I was alone in my chamber. Catherine, at my request, had retired to another sleeping place. I wanted it that way. My windows overlooked the river, and I stood at one and kept my eyes fastened on the dark, rippling water, alert for any movement. Even in the moonless night, I could make out the towers and buildings of Lambeth slightly upstream. They were not so very far away; perhaps a half mile or so.

I could see, by the ripples in the water, exactly when the tide turned. The little clock on my table had just struck two.

A slight movement on the water from the faraway Lambeth dock. A boat had set out, its rowers heading downstream to the Tower. It was a swift one; the lesser rebels would follow. This one must hold only Essex.

The boat drew abreast of Whitehall. I pressed against the window glass, as if it would grant me enhanced vision to see inside the vessel. But it passed, shrouded in darkness.

F
ive more hours, and then the dawn brought in the new day. I felt purged of all emotions, as if they had been taken captive along with Essex. But that was an advantage: It meant I could act quickly, untroubled by clouded feelings.

I ordered details of the treason to be printed up and distributed throughout the City. I summoned lawyers to study the mountain of evidence and prepare for the trials. I posted over two thousand men levied from the home counties to keep order in London—some were stationed at Charing Cross, others to patrol the pleasure grounds of Southwark, with the theaters, cockpits, and bear gardens, and more around the Royal Exchange. I could take no chances.

In all, eighty-five men taken from Essex House were in custody. In truth, only a few of those warranted close examination or trial. Essex himself, of course, was the prime mover. After him, Southampton. Then the lesser ones: Rutland, Sandys, Monteagle, Bedford, and Blount. The commoners and servants of Essex—Danvers, Cuffe, and Meyrick—would also be held responsible for their actions.

It was four days since the uprising, and at last I was sleeping again, unwinding like a tightly coiled spring slowly loosening. My appetite had crept back and I was looking forward to my supper for the first time since the ordeal had begun. I even agreed to have it out in the privy chamber so more people could share it with me. To chase away the gloom, I chose a red gown. But before I could traverse from my inner chambers to the privy chamber, three of Raleigh's guards surrounded me. I tried to shake them off.

“Gentlemen, the danger is past,” I said. “I merely go to sup with my attendants and friends.”

“There is more danger,” one of them said, his throat rumbling, “and it was heading for your chambers.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. I looked around; the corridor was empty. “I am trying to calm the court, not agitate it.”

“Do you know a Captain Thomas Lee?” another said.

“Yes, he served in Ireland and was Essex's messenger to O'Neill. But he was not part of the rebellion.”

“He is now,” said the first man. “He was caught just outside your door with a knife. He has already confessed that he meant to take you hostage and force you to release Essex.”

“My God!” How had he gotten so close? “Where were you, then, when he sneaked into the apartments? What good your liveries, your embroidered golden roses, if you cannot guard me properly?”

“He said he had soldierly business with you.”

“He said you knew him well. We would never have believed him, but one of us recognized him. ‘He served in Ireland,' he said. ‘And besides, he's cousin to the Queen's old master of the tilt.'”

“A questionable member of that family,” I said. I was remembering something unpleasant about him. Oh yes. He had once sent me the severed head of an Irish chieftain, thinking it would please me. I shuddered. It had proved not only that he was uncouth but that he knew how to sever heads. “Where is he?”

“Bound and waiting for you out here,” the tallest of the guards said, pointing to the privy chamber.

“Very well, then, let me see him.”

This was not the quiet dinner I had envisioned. The tables were still set, and the crowd assembled, but on his knees on the floor was the captain. The courtiers made a wide semicircle around him, staring.

I walked over to where he knelt, two huge guards on either side, their hands on his shoulders.

“Captain Lee,” I said. “This is the second time I have met you. There will not be a third.”

He glared up at me. “Let him go! Set the Earl of Essex free!” he muttered.

“Why? Because you say so? He is a traitor. And now so are you.” Suddenly I was weary of this. I did not even have the stomach for any further talk. “Take him away,” I ordered the guards. “Try him ahead of the others. His case is clear-cut. It does not require much legal review.”

As he was dragged out, I made a show of inviting everyone to take a place at table as if nothing had happened. But now I knew this would not be over until Essex was dead. Like the Scots queen, as long as he lived there would be plots on his behalf and I could not draw my breath in safety.