I readily agreed with him.
I felt a good deal better after van der Delft left. I put my trust in the Emperor.
* * *
EAGERLY I WAITED for some reply. I felt better. I must live until the rescue came.
After weeks of my waiting, watching the roads, finding the frustration almost unendurable, van der Delft came with a reply from the Emperor.
He was hesitant so I guessed before he told me that the Emperor was not over-enthusiastic about the scheme.
“What does he say?” I commanded. “Please tell me. Hold nothing back.”
“The Emperor feels it would be a hazardous undertaking. The task of getting you out of the kingdom could be almost insuperable.”
“I know it will be difficult but surely with careful planning…”
Van der Delft nodded. He was wary. He did not tell me what I discovered later, that the Emperor had raised the point of who would support me when I arrived in his realm. I was glad I did not know that, for it would have wounded me deeply. It had not occurred to me at the time that a princess must have her household, and a cousin of the Emperor could not live like a pauper, and if I left England I would be thrown on his bounty. But van der Delft had the tact and courtesy to keep that from me. I should have remembered that, during the difficult times through which my mother had passed, the Emperor had always been too deeply involved with his dominions to give more than moral support. I should have been more realistic. I should have understood that, to the Emperor, the trials of his relations and even the break with Rome were not major concerns. He was the most successful and most powerful ruler in Europe and could not be diverted in the smallest way from the immense task of remaining so. He would help me only if that did not disturb him too much and if no sacrifices were demanded.
That was why he was not enthusiastic about my plan to leave the country. Instead he thought of a more traditional way out of my troubles. Marriage.
If I married, I could leave the country with dignity and so escape from danger.
I said, “And when the time comes for me to claim the throne?”
“The Emperor says you would have a husband to help you.”
“But I should not be here.”
“The Emperor thinks it is a good plan, and you would not be here if you escaped.”
“And whom does he suggest?”
“Dom Luiz, brother of the King of Portugal.”
“No,” I said. “No.”
“The Emperor feels it is the best solution.”
Was that a hint? If I did not agree, I could not rely on his help?
Van der Delft was putting forward his master's point of view. He reiterated, “If you escaped as you suggest, you would not be here. A husband would help you gain your throne.”
It did occur to me then that the Emperor was thinking that, if I married, I should not be his responsibility, but there was something in the suggestion that if I had to fight for my inheritance I would need help.
I began to see that my plan to leave the country was fraught with difficulties, not only in putting it into practice but in what might follow.
I felt depressed after van der Delft's visit. But I need not have worried about the proposed marriage. It was merely a proposition put forward by the Emperor and the Portuguese were as lukewarm about it as I was.
Dom Luiz gracefully extricated himself by stating that he could not agree to the marriage until there was a religious change in England, which, of course, meant that the Council refused to go further. In any case, I should have needed a dowry, and I understood the exchequer was extremely impoverished so the marriage would have been ruled out on that aspect alone.
Christmas had come. I had spent mine in retirement, pleading illness. It was a good excuse. I had had many illnesses and people believed I was not strong. Edward was not in good health either; the only one of my father's children who seemed to have escaped the weakness was Elizabeth.
I was still in a terrible state of disquiet, wondering what schemes were being concocted against me. The situation had changed little. Elizabeth was still at Court, being treated, some said, like the heiress presumptive. I might not have existed.
My Comptroller of the Household, Sir Robert Rochester, came to me one day and told me he had disquietening news.
I waited in some dismay for his revelation.
“Of course, it is only gossip, Princess, but these things sometimes hold a few grains of truth. It is said that there are changes to be made in your household and that its members are now to be prevented from hearing Mass.”
“You mean some of the members of my household…”
“No, my lady Princess, you too.”
I said, “I think I must see the ambassador without delay.”
Van der Delft arrived and I told him what I had heard. He, too, had heard the rumor and had already imparted it to the Emperor.
He had already received the Emperor's reply and was preparing to come to me when my message had arrived.
“The Emperor,” he said, “is considering the escape.”
My spirits rose. I had to face the danger of leaving England, but when one has lived in fear of death for many months, action is desirable.
Van der Delft said we should need the cooperation of people whom we could trust. I understood that. I told him that Sir Robert Rochester had always been a good friend to me, that he was a staunch Catholic and I would trust him with my life.
Van der Delft had the same opinion of Sir Robert, and we called him in to tell him of the plan.
He said he had feared for my safety for some time and was glad that I was to be taken away. He would do anything he could to help. He had a friend who had a boat. The boat could sail up the River Blackwater as far as Malden, which was close by Woodham Water, the house in which I was at this time staying. The boat could carry me out to a Flemish ship which would be waiting at sea.
“Can we trust this man?” asked Van der Delft.
“Yes. And he would not know it was the Princess he was taking. He would just see a figure in a concealing cloak. I would imply to him that I am the one who is fleeing the country.”
Van der Delft continued to look very worried. I think he felt that the project went beyond the duties expected of an ambassador. He was in poor health, and I am sure he would have given a great deal not to be involved in such an adventure.
I wondered how my staunch old Chapuys would have reacted. With a little more enthusiasm, I should imagine.
I believe that in his heart he was uneasy because of the Emperor's reluctance. My cousin had agreed to the project only as a last resort. The plan was full of weaknesses as far as he was concerned and I am sure it was only because he felt my life to be in danger that he agreed to it. After all, I should be out of the country at the crucial moment; but it was no use having me in the country… dead. I supposed the Emperor thought this was the lesser of two evils and that was the sole reason why he agreed to it.
Van der Delft told me that he would write to the Emperor telling him of Rochester's suggestion, and when he had his master's approval, the plan would be put into action.
Shortly afterward I received a further communication from van der Delft. He was being recalled and in his place would be Jehan Scheyfve. I was horrified. To exchange ambassadors in the middle of such a project seemed extraordinary to me. I began to suspect that van der Delft had asked for the exchange.
He told me that Scheyfve would shortly be calling on me, which I presumed meant that he himself was saying goodbye.
Robert Rochester came to me with an alarming piece of news. Summer was coming on, and it was in summer that tempers ran high and people's grievances were uppermost in their minds. The Council did not want a repeat of rebellions, so they were making a careful watch of the roads this summer, and people who might not be about their ordinary business would be stopped and questioned. It was the duty of every householder to take part in this watch; any who did not do so might find himself in trouble with the Council. I
t was for the protection of all, and they must do their duty.
“It means,” said Rochester, “that the roads will be watched and, if you are seen riding to Malden, which you almost certainly would be, the alarm would be given. Moreover, this friend of mine has taken alarm and will not be involved in this.”
I was in a quandary. Van der Delft, who had been working on the plan, was now going, and this new man was in his place. What did he know of it? I wondered.
I sent an urgent message to van der Delft. He must come and say goodbye to me…in person, I insisted.
I hoped he would understand by the wording of my message that it was imperative that I see him.
When he arrived, I was appalled by his appearance. The man looked really ill, and he was decidedly worried. I told him Rochester's news without delay.
“Then,” he said, “we have to plan again.”
“But you are going away.”
He was silent and I went on, “What of this new man?”
“It has been decided that Scheyfve should know nothing of the plan.”
“But you will not be here… and if this man knows nothing of it… what can we do?”
“Scheyfve cannot know of this. Imagine what would happen. Suppose the plot failed and he were involved… and if it succeeds and it were known that he was aware of it…he would be discredited.”
“Is that why you are being withdrawn?”
“It is that… and for reasons of health.”
I felt bewildered and very much alone. I could see that no one wished to be involved in my dangerous existence.
I was wrong. Van der Delft was a good man; he was genuinely sorry for me, and he was going to do everything he could to help.
He said to me, “If this plan is undertaken, it must succeed.”
“How can we be sure that it will?”
“We must not attempt it until we are sure.”
“I will trust in God,” I said.
He lifted his shoulders. He looked so terribly ill, poor man. I knew his gout was very painful. But still he wanted to help. He had a good secretary whom he could trust, a certain Jean Dubois; and his idea was that, disguised as a merchant, Dubois should come in a ship bringing grain for the household.
That would not be considered unusual, for grain was now and then brought to the household. When the grain was delivered, I should be smuggled out. We should be away before I was missed, and I should very soon be in Flushing.
I said, “Will you come too, Ambassador?”
He looked helpless.
“You must come,” I said. “I shall need you.”
“Dubois is a trusty servant.”
“But you must come. I must have your promise.”
He smiled at me almost tenderly. “I give it,” he said. “I shall come as a grain merchant, and we shall have you out of harm's way … in no time at all.”
* * *
I BEGAN TO WONDER if everything must go wrong for me.
When I heard the news I was astounded and stricken with grief, for, though I had compared van der Delft with Chapuys to his disadvantage, I had grown fond of him and I had relied upon him. He had been with me through a dangerous time and he had been my only link with the Emperor, whom, in spite of everything, I still regarded as my savior.
On arriving in the Netherlands, van der Delft wrote to the Emperor an account of what had happened, and as soon as he had finished he took to his bed. He had fallen into a fever and was delirious.
It was apparent that he was on his deathbed. He was suffering from gout, but it seemed that the plots for my escape had so preyed on his mind that he had become further enfeebled.
The poor man went into raving delirium and talked of the boat which was to take me away from England; he had rambled about the watch on the roads, and the dangers of getting me to the boat. There must have been many who heard it.
I received a note from the Emperor. It came sealed by way of the ambassador who, of course, knew nothing of its contents. It was very disconcerting to have an ambassador in whom I could not confide. Chapuys had been my great comfort, and after him van der Delft…and now, when I most needed help, there was no one to give it to me.
The Emperor did not want to drop the plan in spite of all the difficulties which had arisen, but he thought it must be put aside for a few weeks while his spies informed him what effect the ravings of van der Delft had had. He would send men into the markets to drink with the merchants and there discover if anything had leaked out.
In due course I heard from him again. Apparently there had been no mention of the plot, and it seemed that all was safe.
Now we were free to go ahead.
I was overcome with melancholy and great trepidation. Van der Delft was replaced by a man I did not know. A stranger was coming, disguised as a grain merchant, and I was to escape with him…to the unknown. It was a frightening proposition.
There would be ships lying off the coast, and a small grain ship would sail up the river. Grain would be delivered, and then I should be taken out to safety. It was a dangerous operation but it had the sanction of the Emperor, and Dubois was eager to carry it out with distinction.
We received a message that the merchants had arrived and would bring a sample of corn for the comptroller to see. The next step would be for Dubois to bring the corn into the house.
I had decided which ladies were going with me. I had packed my jewels. I was ready.
We heard that people were watching on the roads. They would be there on the route along which I had to pass to reach the river. It would be a great feat for any of those people to capture me; and, moreover, they would be in trouble if it were discovered that they had allowed me to slip through.
Sir Robert Rochester came to me and said that he had something on his mind and wished to speak to me. I bade him continue.
“My lady Princess,” he said. “There is a rumor that the King is in a very delicate state of health. He cannot marry. He will never produce an heir. It could be that, in a very short time, you will be the rightful queen of this country.”
“I know it,” I said. “The thought is constantly with me.”
“You are the hope of the country, Princess. Many people are waiting for you to return them to God's Church.”
I nodded and was silent.
“If you were not here,” went on Sir Robert, “it would be the Lady Elizabeth.”
“I should have to come back to claim my right.”
“It is never easy to come back, my lady.”
“Sir Robert, what are you suggesting?”
He was silent for a few seconds, and then he said slowly, “This is a desperate operation. If you are discovered, what will happen?”
“I shall be taken to the Tower. I shall be judged a traitor. I have been in communication with a foreign power. You know what that means, Sir Robert.”
“They would seize upon it. It would give them the opportunity for which they have been waiting.”
“You are telling me that it is unwise for me to go.”
“I believe, Princess, that if you go…even if the escape is successful and you reach Flanders, you will have lost a kingdom.”
I saw the reasoning behind this.
I said, “I am in fear of losing my life here.”
“That is true, but we will be watchful, and you have many friends. I believe your enemies are aware of this, and they would not dare to harm you.”
“They might by subtle means.”
“There is a possibility. But your servants love you and guard you well. They pray, Princess, for the time when you mount the throne and sweep away this evil which has taken possession of the land.”
“You are telling me I must stay.”
“It is your decision, Princess.”
“Dubois will be here soon,” I reminded him.
“You could tell him you were not prepared to go…just yet.”
“After all the preparations!”
“The Emperor w
ill try again if he is really in favor of your escape.”
“You think he is not entirely so?”
It was then I learned that the Emperor had hesitated because he feared he would have to provide me with a household and that I should be a drain on his exchequer.
I said, “The Emperor was ever a careful man. It is the reason why he is the richest and most powerful man in the world.”
“That may be so, Princess. But would you wish to be a burden…one he might shoulder reluctantly?”
“What then, Sir Robert? Are we to tell Dubois when he comes with his grain that I will not go?”
“That is for you to say, my lady Princess. The decision is entirely yours. If you decide to go, rest assured that I will do all I can to assure your safety. It is for you to say whether you will risk staying here in order to gain your kingdom, or whether you will take an equal risk and give it away to those who would destroy it in the eyes of God.”
I wanted to be alone to think. He had reduced me to a terrible state of indecision.
I spent a restless night. I did not sleep at all. Rochester was right, I told myself. I would be throwing away my heritage if I left. I had soothed my conscience by telling myself I would return and win my kingdom when it was mine by right. But how could I do that? With the Emperor's help? Had the Emperor come to save my mother when she was in dire distress? Would not his continuing commitments demand all his attention, all his forces? That was how it had been in the past. Would it change? The Emperor would certainly wish to see the true faith returned to England, but how far would he be prepared to risk his forces to bring it about?
I had to be realistic. I had to rely entirely on my own judgement. I was in danger here. I was in constant fear that one day or night some assassin would make an end of me. I would continue to live in fear. But should I be safe in Flanders? Had not my father sent assassins abroad to try to kill Reginald Pole? They had not succeeded but they might have done so.
Let me look truth in the face. God had put me in this position. I could perform a great mission if I lived. My life was in God's hands. If He wished me to succeed in this great task, I needed His help. I needed His guidance. To go or to stay? Rochester had made me see clearly that if I went I might save my own life but in doing so lose my kingdom.
In the Shadow of the Crown Page 36
