Queen of This Realm

by Jean Plaidy

  So now Sussex did not hesitate to tell me that he thought I was wrong to raise this matter of Leicester's possible marriage to Lady Stafford.

  “The Earl is married; Lady Stafford is married; and Your Majesty would do well to let be.”

  “I am the best judge of that, my lord,” I said sharply.

  “I think, Your Majesty, in the circumstances…”

  I silenced him. He was alluding, of course to my well-known attachment to Robert. He deplored it, and as it happened he disliked Robert more than any man at Court. Robert's devious methods were abhorrent to him; yet at one time he had been ready to agree to a marriage between us because he thought I was so enamored of Robert that my happiness lay in such a marriage. I am sure that he was also of the opinion that any marriage was better than none and that with two so passionately devoted to each other as Robert and I were, a union was sure to be fruitful.

  “So, Master Sussex,” I said, “you are against this inquiry because Lady Stafford is a connection of your wife. Is that not so? Your good lady wants no scandal in the family!”

  Sussex hesitated. There was an element of truth in that, he admitted; but his real objection was my involvement in the affair.

  How involved was I in this?

  “People will say that it is your anger against Leicester which prompts you rather than your desire to sift the truth—which can do little good now.”

  “Little good! Do you think of your wife's precious cousin…or whatever she is…do you think her reputation is of no account? I tell you this, my lord Sussex: There shall be no immorality at my Court.”

  He knew then that I would have what I wanted, and accordingly Lady Stafford was summoned and I listened while Sussex questioned her. He had succeeded in making me accept a secret inquiry, saying that if Lady Stafford proved that there had been a true marriage between herself and the Earl of Leicester then the matter could be taken to court. Of course he was right.

  What a timid creature this Lady Stafford was! I wondered what Robert could have seen in her. When I thought of myself… and Lettice… strong women … women of personality … whatever could he have seen in this… mouse!

  She looked half crazed and was certainly very frightened. She said that she was married to Sir Edward Stafford and it was a very happy marriage.

  “But is it a marriage,” asked Sussex, “if you are already married to the Earl of Leicester?”

  “That was no true marriage.”

  “There was a time when you were pleading that it was,” Sussex reminded her. “What has happened to change your mind?”

  “I was mistaken…”

  “It seems a strange mistake to make,” I couldn't resist interjecting. “Do you mean to say you did not know whether you were married or not?”

  She turned to me and fell to her knees, wringing her hands while the tears coursed down her cheeks. “Your Majesty,” she said, “I thought I was married then… but now I…am not sure. There were those to say there was no marriage. I thought…”

  I looked in exasperation at Sussex who began his relentless questions. Her meeting with Leicester, the sudden flaring of passion between them… he was irresistible… she had been a faithful wife until then… the letter he had written…

  “What was in the letter?” demanded Sussex.

  “That he would marry me when my husband died.”

  “But your husband was well, was he not?”

  She nodded wretchedly.

  “Then why did he talk of his death?”

  “He…he said it would not be long before we could be legally married.”

  I was tapping my feet impatiently. I did not want a case of murder to be brought against Robert. I only wanted to separate him from the she-wolf.

  “Where is this letter?” I demanded.

  “I—I do not know…”

  She told what I knew already. Foolish little creature! She had lost the letter; it was found by her sister-in-law and taken to her husband who left her and went to London threatening to divorce her, but before he could do so, he died.

  “And when you were free, you married the Earl of Leicester.”

  “I…I think so…”

  “Have you any proof?”

  “I—I trusted him. He said we were married. It seemed like a marriage. Perhaps…”

  “You must have some documents. There would have to be papers.”

  “I—I don't know. I have no papers. Oh please, my lord, Your Majesty, let me go…I have a good husband who cares for me. I want nothing of my lord Leicester. It was no marriage. I have no papers…”

  She began sobbing wildly.

  Sussex looked at me and said: “I think nothing can be gained by pursuing this inquiry, Your Majesty.”

  I was shaking with emotion, but I saw that he was right.

  Lady Stafford covered her face and went on crying. “I know nothing… nothing,” she murmured. “I can only say I trusted him. He said all was well. I don't know…I don't know any more…”

  “The woman is hysterical,” I said. “Go back to Sir Edward Stafford, Lady Stafford.”

  She was taken away.

  Sussex stood before me. Much as he hated Leicester I think he was rather pleased by the outcome. His chivalry had been touched by the sight of that poor woman in distress.

  I went back to my apartments. I was filled with a cold anger and the hatred I bore Lettice Knollys was greater than ever. She had won again.

  But I will be even with her yet, I promised myself. She shall not hold Robert. His place is at Court with me, and that is somewhere you shall never come, my lady!

  TWO YEARS HAD PASSED SINCE LEICESTER'S MARRIAGE. I saw to it that he was constantly at Court, keeping my promise to myself that I would exclude Lettice and separate the married pair as much as possible. This was not difficult, for when I commanded he must come; and as I would not receive her, she must perforce absent herself. When I visited his houses I gave notice that I was coming so that she could remove herself before I arrived. I liked to imagine her chagrin, which must have been great. I heard that she lived most splendidly, glorifying even Leicester's houses; she lived like a queen, it was said. That gave me grim amusement. A queen in exile, I thought.

  I could not forget her. Whenever I saw Leicester I was reminded of her. He was as devoted to me as ever, but sometimes I wondered when he was at my side whether he would rather have been with Lettice.

  Although he behaved as though his adoration of me had not diminished, he could no longer talk of marriage; but he never gave the slightest hint that he did not continue to regard me as the most desirable of women.

  One New Year's Day his present to me was fifteen large gold buttons and three dozen smaller ones to match, all embellished with rubies and diamonds in the form of lovers' knots; and enchanting as they were in themselves, there was no mistaking the sentiment they expressed.

  I could not help asking him whether his wife had assisted him in choosing them. He answered gravely that the choice had been entirely his.

  I thought angrily: Oh Robert, I know there had to be women, but why could they not have been light love affairs such as you have had in countless numbers? Why did there have to be this one… and with that woman?

  But I did not mention her often and I kept him beside me.

  In the autumn of that year I met a wonderful man whose exploits filled me with pride and admiration. This was Francis Drake, a young man from Devon. When I say young, he was about forty years of age, and it is significant that I was beginning to think of such as young.

  He was the greatest sailor in the country…in the world, I would venture to say, and he had performed a magnificent feat in sailing round the world.

  Three years earlier I had learned of his intention to navigate the globe and bring back treasure from far places. It was a plan which appealed to me. I had always liked adventurous men, and had long realized that the strength of my country must lie in its Navy. We were an island; we needed special protection; so I h
ad promoted the building of ships, and I wanted men such as Francis Drake to sail in them.

  I could see that he was an adventurer—a man of daring with bold ideas and one who would not hesitate to carry them out. When the project had been suggested I had consulted Dr Dee, who had written a book called The Perfect Art of Navigation. It was clever as well as prophetic, and on his advice and that of Christopher Hatton, who was very much in favor of the scheme, I invested in it.

  Hatton took it upon himself to manage these affairs and he himself invested heavily in the venture. This voyage of discovery appealed to me in more ways than one. The Spaniards were already probing the unknown world and I saw my country as a rival to Spain. If we could outwit the Spaniards so much the better, and if we encountered their treasure ships on the high seas, who was to stop us plundering them? Drake was the man to lead such an expedition. So with the financial investment he received, he fitted out his ship, the Pelican, for the voyage and chose those who would go with him. Before setting out he changed the name of the Pelican to the Golden Hind in honor of one of Hatton's heraldic beasts, for Hatton had made the voyage possible, not only financially but by helping Drake smooth over any political opposition there might have been. It was necessary to keep my good Burghley ignorant of the trip for he would certainly have raised all sorts of objections about the legality of maritime law. I suppose I was something of a buccaneer myself and that was why men such as Francis Drake appealed to me.

  When Drake returned Hatton was beside himself with glee. The success of the enterprise had been beyond our most ambitious expectations. All those who had invested in the venture would share the profits, which were a four thousand seven hundred percent return on the original outlay. The hold of the Golden Hind was filled with precious stones and valuable articles, many of them taken from ships on their way to Spain. This was more than treasure. Drake had inflicted great damage on the grandeur of Spanish prestige. No Spanish ship had been able to cripple the Golden Hind and it and its crew had returned to port safely after three years of voyaging, and with enough treasure to make all its crew rich men.

  The bullion was to be conveyed to a stronghold in the Tower. The Spanish Ambassador was furious. Christopher Hatton rejoiced and I said my old Bellwether had led me to a fortune. Robert and Walsingham both received four thousand pounds by royal warrant. Burghley and Sussex were the only two who refused to accept any of the spoils. Burghley had been offered ten golden bars and Sussex a service of gold plate. They both declined, declaring that they could not bring themselves to accept stolen goods.

  I might have been annoyed with them, but I respected my men. I needed the upright ones like them as well as adventurers like Francis Drake. They all had their parts to play. I wanted all manner of able men in my service.

  To show them that I had no qualms myself, I had a crown made from the diamonds and emeralds. There were five of these last which were of great size, quite three inches in length, and they made a wonderful frontage for the ornament. I wore it with great pride at the New Year's Day revelries and jocularly called Burghley's attention to my “booty.”

  The Golden Hind was laid up at Deptford and Drake begged the honor of entertaining me on board. This was an invitation which I could not refuse after such service as Drake had rendered to the nation, so I went there and on the deck of the Golden Hind this brave man was knighted and I allowed him to conduct me to the banquet. I was surprised to find that he was such a small man—I had expected a giant—but he was full of energy. He was handsome enough with large clear brown eyes and brown hair, much bearded and with a cheerful expression. He was clearly delighted with his success—and he had every reason to be—and it was pleasant to see how he reveled in the honor which he had won.

  I sat beside him at the dinner, which was lavish. The sight of so much food nauseated me a little, but I made a pretense of eating and those who knew my tastes made sure when they could that I was served very little.

  I talked with some of the men who told me about their adventures sailing with Drake. They obviously admired him and I was not surprised for there was a power in him, the quality of a true leader. I learned that he took artists with him to paint the coasts in their true colors, and how even in times of hardship he had been served at table with ceremony and that music was played to him while he ate. He was what a leader must be—strict and just and never asking his men to take risks which he would not take himself.

  As a memento of the occasion he gave me a silver casket and an ornament made of diamonds in the shape of a frog—a nice compliment to my suitor.

  I liked Sir Francis Drake. This was a man I needed, for the treacherous Spaniards could never be trusted to keep the peace.

  MY FEARS OF SPAIN did not diminish after the return of Drake—rather naturally they increased. I knew that the Spaniards were my greatest enemy, considered to be invincible on the high seas. I knew that Philip was a fanatic as far as religion was concerned, and I had always felt that fanaticism in religion could bring about the downfall of a monarch. I had long since made up my mind that it should never be so in my case. I could never see why there should be these schisms, these differences. Surely it was enough to be a Christian, which simply meant following the teachings of Christ.

  But there were few men or women who would agree with me. Religion was something they took very seriously.

  Never far from my thoughts was the Queen of Scots who was still in England. I could never quite make up my mind whether she would have been more of a danger to me free than she was as my prisoner. While she lived there would always be plots about her. She was the Catholic figurehead. I had been constantly warned by men of such differing motives as Robert and Burghley that she should go. I had had my chance at the time of the Ridolfi plot, when the best of excuses had been given to me for bringing about her end. Yet I had shrunk from signing her death warrant.

  None could know more than I the dangers I faced. My people were largely Protestant. They were Protestants by nature. They lacked that singleminded religious fervor which seemed to go hand in hand with Catholicism; they were tolerant by nature; they were always prepared to let things stay as they were, feeling, I am sure, that changing them might bring about unpleasantness. I understood them perfectly for after all I was one of them. Perhaps that was why we fitted each other so well.

  But I must not forget that there were those who rebelled against the new order. We were a Protestant country not because I was a Protestant. I would have been ready to be a Catholic if that was what my people demanded of their monarch. The rites and ceremonies of the Church affected me little. My need was to give the people what they wanted.

  My enemies were the Catholics and there was the Catholic Queen whom they were plotting to put on my throne. Before they could do so they must remove me—and consequently they plotted my assassination. The Pope had given help—financial and spiritual—to my enemies; there was constant plotting in various parts of the country and the Spaniards were just waiting for their opportunity. The French, too, had their schemes—shelved temporarily because of the courtship being conducted sporadically between myself and their little Duc d'Anjou.

  And how important it was to keep that going! And how long could I manage it? For the answers to those questions I must wait and see.

  In the meantime I must beware of Catholics.

  New laws were made forbidding the Mass, and any caught partaking in it would be fined two hundred marks and be condemned to a year's imprisonment. Any who tried to draw my subjects from the country's religion— and this was aimed mostly at priests—were considered to be guilty of high treason.

  I knew there were secret gatherings in various country houses. I knew that they kept their priests hidden in order that they could continue to conduct the Mass. In many of the old houses nooks and crannies had been turned into priests' holes into which the priests could scuttle at a moment's notice to prevent their arrest. What else did they talk of when they met in secret? I could not believe that i
t was only religion.

  I would have been happier without these rules for I had always wanted my people to worship in a manner best suited to their needs and beliefs. The present position had been forced on me. Because of the implacable hatred of Philip of Spain, I felt it necessary to keep a watchful eye on Catholic households, and if any were caught breaking the religious laws they must be brought to trial.

  Thus it was that Edmund Campion came to be arrested.

  How fervently I wished in the years to come that it had never been necessary to do to him what was done. If only such men would keep to their learning, in which we all agreed they excelled. Why must they concern themselves with religion? Why could they not accept the laws of the land and do what they must in secret?

  They had a certain nobility, those men, I granted them that. But they were fools; though it is true that in becoming martyrs they did more for their faith than they ever did by preaching.

  Campion was a great scholar. I remembered him from when I had visited Oxford, for he had made a beautiful speech in Latin which had delighted me. I had asked about him and when he had been presented to me we conversed, he responding most gracefully and with the utmost charm. He went to Ireland where he wrote a book about that country; but it was there that he became so fervently Catholic and religion was the most important factor in his life. He had entered the Order of the Jesuits some eight years before and since then he had been in England as a missionary, whose great purpose was to turn people to his faith.