Страница 115 из 145
One day he wrote on a window with a diamond the words:
“Fain would I climb, yet fear I to fall.”
And I replied with a diamond I was wearing:
“If thy heart fails thee, climb not at all.”
He turned to me, his eyes shining, and I loved him in that moment, for he had the qualities which I admired most in men.
I said: “You will climb, Walter Raleigh. And I do not think you will fall… far.”
At which he bowed low and said that he would climb to heaven or descend to hell in my service.
Soon after that I gave him a knighthood; he deserved the distinction and was very proud of it. And how watchful he was—and others too—of the favors I bestowed! Essex did not ask for honors; if anything was given to him he took it without question; but he never seemed overgrateful. Raleigh asked audaciously.
Once I said to him: “I wonder when you will stop being a beggar, Raleigh.”
And he replied: “When Your Majesty stops being a benefactress.”
He laughed and I could not help joining in with him. The exchange was typical of our relationship.
Burghley had brought along his son Robert hoping for advancement from me. I recognized Robert Cecil immediately as one of the clever ones. There was little of the courtier about him. He was very small and suffered from a slight curvature of the spine, which was accentuated by the shape of the coats men were wearing at this time; his neck was slightly twisted too and he had a splay foot; and among so many handsome men he looked like a little elf. I christened him that immediately. So his unprepossessing appearance had brought him to my notice just as Raleigh's gesture with the cloak had done—although, of course, I could not fail to notice Burghley's son. It was rather touching to see the dear old man's devotion to the boy. I loved him for it and determined to do what I could for the Little Elf, which would be easy for I recognized at once that sharp mind behind the pale face, and I believed that Robert Cecil would have done well at my Court without his father's influence.
Then there were the Bacon boys—Anthony and Francis. Francis was a clever boy but inclined to be tutorial, a characteristic which did not appeal greatly to me. Burghley kept them in the background because he did not want them to spoil Robert Cecil's chances; and I knew that if any important post became vacant, Burghley would want it for his son.
Francis, however, wrote a paper entitled Letter of Advice to Queen Elizabeth, which in itself was an insolence. It contained his views of the political situation, but they were quite ably expressed and I congratulated him on it. He had at this time become a member of Parliament for Taunton and a bencher at Gray's I
But of all the interesting young men at Court at this time the favorites were Walter Raleigh and Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex.
As the year progressed there was one thought in everyone's mind, and that was the growing menace of Spain. Everyone was asking: For what reason was Spain building the greatest armada that had ever been seen? There could be only one answer: To attack us.
Philip and I were natural enemies. It was strange to think that once he had been attracted by me when he had been married to my sister. I supposed he had never forgiven me for not leaping at the chance to marry him. If I had done that he would not have found it necessary to spend so much on the building of his armada. He would have taken England, installed the Inquisition and made my country part of Spain. As if I would ever have allowed that! As if I would ever sell my country to Philip of Spain…as my sister had done.
Enmity was growing fast between our two nations. We were rivals for sea power. He had fine ships and adventurers to sail them and they had traveled on voyages of discovery round the world; but there had been the English pirates, like Drake and Hawkins, to waylay their ships and rob them of their riches.
I don't think he ever forgave Drake for taking the San Felipe—the greatest prize of all—the King's own East Indiaman. Her cargo had been the richest haul even Drake had ever captured—bullion, precious stones, spices, ambergris, fine silks and velvets, materials of all kinds, gold and jewelery, all fell into the hands of Drake.
Moreover the name of Drake was spoken with awe and reverence by the Spaniards. They called him El Draque—the Dragon. They said he was the greatest seaman ever to rove the seas and he was not entirely human. He had the devil in him and that was why it was impossible to beat Sir Francis Drake.
I often thought of Philip—that gloomy fanatic—spending hours on his knees in his Escorial Palace. Did he remember me? He had cast somewhat lascivious eyes on me and there had been hints that he was not averse to frolicking with women. There was that rhyme I remembered from long ago… something about the baker's daughter's being more fun than Mary.
Men were very hypocritical and it would not surprise me if, when they knelt in prayer or scourged themselves with whips and tormented themselves with hair shirts, they were indulging in erotic fantasies.
There was a rumor at this time that a young man calling himself Arthur Dudley was treated with some respect at the Court of Madrid. He proclaimed himself to be my son, Leicester being his father. He said that he had been born at Hampton Court and a servant of Kat Ashley had been ordered to bring him up as his own child. He was about twenty-seven years old—a swaggering, swearing braggart, by all accounts. Philip must have known that he was an imposter, but I suppose he thought it politic to discredit me as much as possible, so he pretended to believe the young man and keep him at his Court at the cost of six crowns a day. No doubt he thought the money was well spent.
I could laugh at the absurdity of the tale, but it did bring home the fact that with every month the situation between us and Spain grew more dangerous, and I knew—as did those about me—that the day of reckoning could not be far off.
Walsingham's spies were busy. The armada was complete and ready to sail. There was a story being circulated in Madrid that two men had confessed to a Jesuit priest that they had seen a vision. The confessions were separate and the penitents did not know each other but each had had the same vision. They had seen a mighty sea battle in which the Spanish armada was engaged with another armada. The battle waged fiercely and neither side was wi
“I'll wager our seamen against the angels any day,” I said, and those about me laughed.
I knew that we could no longer delay. We had to be ready. I felt that this was the time to which all my reign had been leading. The outcome of this battle would decide whether England was to be free and I was to continue to reign over my beloved country.
I could not believe that I could lose. No, not all the might of Spain could make me believe that. I had my men, and what men they were! I do believe that no monarch had ever had—or ever would have—such men as I had. They were going to save England for me. I knew they would.
I made Robert Lieutenant-General of the troops to show everyone that in spite of what had happened in the Netherlands, I still had the utmost faith in him. Most of the fighting I knew would be done at sea for this was a conflict for sea power—and religion. My men would be fighting to keep out the intolerance of men such as Philip; they would be fighting against the thumbscrews and the terrible instruments of torture which were the weapons of the Inquisition; they were fighting for freedom, for their Queen and their country, and for the right to go on living as they wanted to. It was a great incentive. I doubted the Spaniards would have such a one to fight for.