Queen of This Realm

As an act of defiance against those who would close the theaters, I formed a band of players who would act for my delight. I called them the Queen's Men.

I looked forward always to my progresses through the country for I considered it of the utmost importance to show myself to my people. There was great rejoicing in the towns and villages through which I passed; and I must admit that there was little I enjoyed more than receiving homage and adulation.

I was so accustomed to displays of love and loyalty that it was a shock when I received evidence that I had dangerous enemies among the people.

One day when I was walking in the gardens at Hampton where a crowd had gathered to watch me pass, there was a sudden shout and I saw someone being hustled away by the Yeomen of the Guard. Another picked up a pistol which lay on the ground and hastened off after the group who were pushing their prisoner through the crowd.

There was a hushed silence and then someone in the crowd cried: “God save Your Majesty. Death to those who would harm you.”

Then I guessed that this had been an attempt at assassination.

I made no show of haste to leave the place nor any fear because I had been in danger of losing my life, but paused to speak to some of the people who had thrust forward to see me. Some had petitions which I read carefully and promised they should have consideration, stressing that it would be the Council who decided, in case the decision should be adverse. Then the blame would not be laid on me!

As soon as I was back in the palace, I asked what the trouble in the gardens had been about.

It was disturbing to know that it had been an attempt on my life and I said I would personally question my would-be murderer.

To my amazement they brought in a woman. She looked at me defiantly as she stood there, a guard on either side of her. “Who are you?” I asked. “And do you admit to wanting to kill me?”

She replied: “My name is Margaret Lambrun, and I do.”

“Well, at least you are honest,” I said. “You are Scottish, are you?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“So thought I. A murderous race, the Scots. They have given my ancestors and me a great deal of trouble. Why did you wish to kill me?”

“You killed my Queen and my husband,” she said. “I wanted revenge for that.”

“You refer to Queen Mary of Scotland who was found guilty of plotting against my realm and attempting to murder me.”

The woman was silent.

“That is the truth, you know,” I said softly.

“My husband was in her service. When she was executed he died of grief.”

“He would have done better to have lived to look after his wife and prevent her from committing rash actions.”

“He loved the Queen. He was heartbroken when she died.”

Poor woman! That was the last thing she could have said to endear her to me. I had long been hearing of the fatal fascination of the Queen of Scots and I was exasperated that even after her death it was still effective.

“You were in possession of two pistols,” I said. “Were you going to take two shots at me?”

“No. One was for you and then I should have turned the other on myself.”

“Do you know what I am going to do with you, Margaret Lambrun?” I said.

“It matters not what you do with me,” she replied. “My life is over.”

“You are a youngish woman. There could be years before you. I say this: Forget that husband who died of a broken heart grieving for another woman. He is not worthy of your remembrance. I know men well. They are not worth dying for. You are an honest woman and have suffered much. I am going to give you a free pardon.”

She stared at me in astonishment for a few seconds, then she fell to her knees continuing to look wonderingly at me.

“Methinks,” I went on, “that you have heard evil tales of me. Perhaps through your husband's fascinating mistress. You foolish woman, do not again risk your life for the sake of a man. Get to your feet now and be gone from here.” I called to the guards: “Take her away.”

She hesitated. Then she said: “Would Your Majesty give me permission to speak?”

“Go on,” I said.

“Those people out there… They believe that you are divine.”

“It seems to me I must have some of the qualities you believed were in the sole possession of Mary of Scotland.”

“Those people love you as she was never loved by the people.”

“Well, my good woman, your eyes have been opened, and you have seen that I am not the monster who was to receive your fatal shot.”

“You are a great queen,” she said. “Those people will tear me apart because I tried to kill you.”

“True enough,” I agreed. “But you who are prepared to kill a queen ca

It was a strange revelation. The fanatical young woman who had stood in the crowd and contemplated my death was gone, and in her place was a practical person who was begi

I realized that my response to her attempt to kill me had bewildered her and yet at the same time it had made her see her future more clearly. She was not going to die. She was going to live, and life had become very precious to her. It must have been so for she was anxious to preserve it. “If Your Majesty would give me a safe passage to France, I would settle there and try to make a new life.”

I smiled at her.

“It shall be,” I said. Then turning to the guards I continued: “Take her away. See that she has safe conduct to the coast.”

As she went she gave me a look of gratitude, amazement and something like admiration.

I smiled. In time, in her French haven, she might think as highly of the Queen of England as she had of the Queen of Scots.

FOR SOME TIME the Council had been trying to persuade me that we should carry our disagreements with Spain into Spanish territory. I had opposed this as I did any form of war, but at length I agreed that this particular action might be advantageous to us.

Since the year 1581 Don Antonio, the deposed King of Portugal, had been living in England in exile. Don Antonio was the bastard son of the previous King's brother, but because he was illegitimate, the Spaniards laid claim to the crown of Portugal on account of Philip's mother's being the late King's sister. He had sent Alva into Portugal to take it and this was speedily accomplished.

Don Antonio had had long talks with me. He was yearning to claim his crown. He told me how the Portuguese hated the Spaniards and that if he could only get back, the whole country would rise against Spain; and having been stripped of its power through the defeat of the armada, the Spaniards would suffer another humiliating defeat and Don Antonio would be back on the throne.

Drake came to discuss the problem and Drake's great aim in these enterprises was to bring back treasure. This I applauded. I wanted Spanish treasure to strengthen my exchequer; I wanted their gold and jewels to pay for my country's needs so that I did not have to resort to taxing my people.

Drake was the great pirate who knew how to bring treasure home. So I agreed and it was arranged that the expedition would be commanded at sea by Sir Francis Drake and on land by Sir John Norris.

I invested sixty thousand pounds in the enterprise; some of the generals put up about fifty thousand, and between the City of London and other ports throughout the country one hundred and forty-six ships were contributed to the scheme.

Essex wanted to join the expedition and I smiled fondly at his enthusiasm.

“I do not intend that you shall risk your life,” I said. “Your place is at Court.”

But he would not let the matter rest. He plagued me night and day. He wanted to go. He had need of the money. He would find treasure; but most of all he wanted to have a shot at the Spaniards.

“No,” I insisted. “You shall not go.” And I became angry with him and ordered him to drop the subject.