Queen of This Realm (72 page)

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Authors: Jean Plaidy

Tags: #Fiction - Historical, #Royalty, #England/Great Britain, #16th Century

BOOK: Queen of This Realm
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Although I could never think of him as a possible lover as I had Robert, he did give me that very special brand of affection which I never quite sensed in the others; and because he was a young man who disdained to flatter and dissimulate, I knew it was genuine affection.

I sent urgent messages to Drake and Norris. Essex was to be sent back. But, of course, he was not with them and it was some time before the
Swiftsure
joined up with the rest of the fleet, and then there was not a ship available in which to send him home.

I wrote angrily to him:

“Essex,
“Your sudden and undutiful departure from our presence and your place of attendance, you may easily conceive how offensive it is, and ought to be, unto us. Our great favors bestowed on you without deserts, hath drawn you thus to neglect and forget your duty; for other constructions we cannot make of those your strange actions. Not meaning, therefore, to tolerate this your disordered part, we gave directions to some of our Privy Council to let you know our express pleasure for your immediate repair hither…
“We do, therefore, charge and command you forthwith upon receipt of these our letters, all excuses and delays set apart, to make your present and immediate repair unto us, to understand our further pleasure. Whereof see you fail not, as you will be loth to incur our indignation, and will answer for the contrary to your uttermost peril.”

When he received such a letter written in my hand, he knew he dare not disobey, and he set sail for home.

The expedition was at an end. The Portuguese had not welcomed Don Antonio as he had believed they would. They did not like their Spanish masters, but they were too lethargic to bestir themselves sufficiently to make the change.

It would have been a disastrous affair but for Sir Francis Drake, who brought home enough booty to have made it just worthwhile.

I was prepared to upbraid Essex and banish him from Court until it pleased me to recall him, but when I saw him, looking a little pale from battle, and kneeling before me raising those fine dark eyes to my face, so full of loving admiration, I relented.

I was so pleased to have him back safely.

I said: “Never behave so again. If you did that could be the end of your hopes at Court.”

That was all; and within a few days he was installed in his old place. And to prevent his going abroad again in search of fortune, I granted him a lease of the farm of sweet wines—which had been Robert's before he died and which would give him a large income that might settle outstanding debts and, I hoped, in future enable him to live within his income.

HE WAS RESTLESS
. He was not suited to Court life. He lacked Robert's ambition as well as his tact; and he lacked Robert's shrewdness. Why had I thought there could ever be anyone to take Robert's place?

And yet he fascinated me. In a way, I thought of him as a son, loved none the less because he was wayward, and I was content only when he was near me. He could change my mood; he could make me feel young. He was in love with me in a way that most young men had been when I was a young woman. There was no question of a union of any sort between us, but it was love…of a rarefied kind. But I wanted that. It had to come naturally. It was not, as with such as Raleigh, for favor at Court. Essex did not seek favor; he was indifferent to honors. He supported lost causes. And he was honest. He could forget the respect due to me. Anger would flare up and he would not watch his words; but this was honest Essex; so that when he did show his affection for me I knew it was genuine.

He was something of a reformer. For instance, he told me frankly that I had been wrong in my treatment of Davison. He should not be in the Tower, he said. It was not due to him that Mary of Scotland had been executed. That specter still bothered me and I did not want to think of Davison. I could not bear to hear any speak his name—so no one ever did in my hearing. Essex knew this and yet he came to me and said that Davison should be released and given the post of Secretary of State which had become vacant on the death of Walsingham. He was such a reckless, foolhardy young man, I trembled for him. I discovered later that he had written to James of Scotland asking him to use his influence in the matter. Did he not realize that at any time his enemies could accuse him of being in communication with a foreign power, which could be made to look like treason?

I have to admit that he almost persuaded me. I did feel guilty about the treatment meted out to Davison. I should have liked to make amends; and the post of Secretary of State, which he was quite capable of holding, would have been a compensation for the injustice he had suffered.

I spoke to Burghley about this. He was against the idea. He did not think Davison could hold the post. He was efficient but not brilliant. I tried to argue in Davison's favor until I realized that Burghley wanted the post for his son Robert. And, of course, he was right. Robert Cecil—that little elf of a man, with his crooked back and slouching walk, had the same balanced outlook as his father. He had been coached by his father from the very earliest, and it was clear that if the post were given to anyone else, there would inevitably be trouble with Burghley.

So Davison did not get the post, but he was released from the Tower and went to live in his home in Stepney where he remained for many years.

Essex was still looking for adventure and when Henri Quatre of France asked me for help, he wanted to take a company of men over to fight for the King, who had come to the throne when Henri Trois had died. As a Huguenot he looked to England for help against the Catholic League which was determined to oust him on account of his religion. “It is necessary that we go to help,” said Essex. “He shares our faith. He would be our friend if we helped him to hold his throne.”

His eyes were shining with enthusiasm. He was somewhat nave. Did he not know that kings were friends of other kings only when it was expedient to be so? But it was true that we did not want the Catholics to prevail in France. We had subdued Spain but France could be as great a menace. Essex threw himself onto his knees and begged to be allowed to take command of an expedition. His friends—and his mother, I believed—advised him against going abroad. He should stay behind and make his name at Court as all the most successful men had done. He should model himself on the lines of Leicester, Walsingham, Burghley … those who held first place in the Queen's regard. Perhaps they realized that he lacked the temperament of a great general. He was too rash, too impulsive, too careless of himself.

However he wearied me with his importunings and as it had been decided that we should aid Henri, I finally gave in and allowed Essex to command the expedition.

It was a sad day for me when he sailed from Dover with four thousand men.

He took with him Lettice's other boy, Walter Devereux, and I wondered how she felt at the prospect of two sons going to war.

I waited eagerly for news. I heard that Henri took a fancy to Essex and that they frolicked together. There was some fighting though, and in a skirmish outside Rouen young Walter Devereux was killed.

I was almost sorry for Lettice then, for I believe that she did love her children.

I heard that Essex recklessly exposed himself to danger and had come near to capture on two occasions. He was popular for he shared his men's hardships and then distributed honors on the battlefield, which he had no authority to do.

I made Burghley write to him in my name, disapproving and forbidding him to act in such a way. Moreover, he had no right to bestow honors. That was the Sovereign's prerogative.

I ordered so forcefully that he return home that at length he could make no excuses for not doing so.

He came back ebullient as ever, with no excuses for what he had done,
and I was once more so delighted to see him that, after the first few reprimands, he was in favor again.

But all the time he wanted to return to France, so I let him go, giving him strict injunctions—as I once did to Robert—to take good care of himself.

Fortunately he was a young man who quickly tired of a project and after a while, when I told him I wished him to come back and relinquish the command to Roger Williams, who had shared his adventures on the
Swiftsure,
rather to my surprise, he eagerly obeyed the command.

I think he had taken the advice of his friends to seek his fortune at Court, where my undoubted affection for him would mean that he had a great chance of success.

I OFTEN THOUGHT
of Christopher Hatton who had been so devoted to me that he had never married. I wished I had been kinder to him at the end. It must have been heartbreaking for him when I turned my back on his pleading to be allowed time to pay that silly debt. In the end I had gone to him and fed him with my own hands, but by then it was too late. Sometimes I wondered whether my harsh treatment of him had hastened his death. He had been a sensitive man and he had truly loved me.

Young men nowadays were less reverent; they were bold and inclined to be insolent—at least Essex was. He was quite unlike the men of my youth … Robert, Heneage, Hatton … They had been like romantic heroes. Nowadays it seemed that a young man's chief fancy was for himself.

I wished that I did not feel so deeply about Essex. Perhaps I should have done better to have fixed my affections on another. There was Raleigh, for instance. He was, some would say, more handsome than Essex, with his ruddy countryman's looks, his tall stature, his dashing manners and his wit. I even found that Devonshire burr in his voice attractive, though his jealous rivals sneered at him and called him the farmer's boy.

He had a commanding presence and a fine intelligence. I was very glad to have him near me. During those years when Essex had been behaving so recklessly I had encouraged Raleigh; and I was secretly amused to see the rivalry between him and Essex.

Raleigh was a born courtier as well as an adventurer. He had succeeded Christopher Hatton as Captain of the Guards; he had his knighthood and a fine residence in Durham House and had just acquired a ninety-nine-year lease of the Castle of Sherborne. He had founded a colony in North America which he had called Virginia in honor of me. I would never forget his coming home and telling me about his adventures. He had developed a curious
habit which he had learned from the savages there and he explained this to me. It was a herb which was called Yppowoc. I had heard of it before when Sir John Hawkins first brought it into the country, but it was Raleigh who was responsible for calling the notice of the people of England to it. Apparently it had a soothing effect if put in a pipe and smoked. It was known as tobacco. Another product had come from Virginia. This I think was more useful than the smoking herb. It was the potato, which John Hawkins brought in about the same time as the tobacco, but it had not become popular until Drake brought it home in large quantities.

Raleigh had great hopes of that colony. It was my colony, he said, named in honor of me; and he let me know that he had spent forty thousand pounds of his own money in order to maintain it. He was heartbroken when it could not be kept going. Hakluyt, the geographer-writer, said it would require a prince's purse to have thoroughly followed it out.

It always pleased me when my men spent their own money in the service of the state. None did this quite to the same extent that Walsingham had done. It showed a genuine love of country which I applauded.

Raleigh was at heart an adventurer. I realized that he had too much talent in that direction to be kept at home. I sent him to Ireland—that hotbed of dissension—where he used his genius for organization as successfully as anyone could against such people who were determined never to conform to law and order and whose great mission in life was to create trouble.

He had done well; he had planted the potato there and the soil evidently suited it, so it provided food for thousands. He became the friend of the poet Edmund Spenser. I was interested in this young poet because Leicester had thought highly of him when Philip Sidney had introduced him to the young man's works. Robert had sought to help him, and had obtained for him the post of private secretary to Lord Grey de Wilton who had been appointed Lord Deputy of Ireland—which was why Edmund Spenser happened to find himself in that country.

Now Raleigh was back in England—more attractive than ever, full of plans, showing jealousy of Essex which amused me, for I told myself it was good for Essex, who seemed to think he had a right to monopolize my affections.

Raleigh was as obsessed by the Spaniards as Drake had been. He was constantly considering methods of attacking them and robbing them of their treasure. They had had intrepid explorers who had discovered new lands; they were good seamen; and men like Drake and Raleigh wanted to snatch the role of pioneers from Spain and make England the great exploring, empire-building nation; it was for us to rule the seas.

I clung to my conviction that war was folly and that even the victorious
invariably suffered; but this war at sea was conducted by privateers whom a sovereign could disown if necessary; oh, yes, this gathering of treasures was quite another matter, far removed from open war. I knew in my heart that the conflict between Spain and England was not a brief struggle. It was a mighty struggle and it was not only for land, or even religion… not on our side at least; it was for supremacy at sea; it was to rule the ceans, to make them safe for England, to protect our shores and to make our country the greatest sea power in the world. Men like Drake and Raleigh understood this and their purpose shone like a beacon through all their actions. They wanted treasure; they wanted the glory of success in battle; but the prime object was that England should be in command of the high seas—and therein lay their greatness.

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