Elizabeth I by Margaret George Read Free Book Online Page B

both dread—to hear what he had to say—and relief—to know the worst, if worst it was.
    Although over sixty now, he was still a towering commander. I bade him rise. He drew himself up and said, “Your Majesty, I am here to convey you to a place of safety. You must leave London.”
    â€œWhy?” I said. “I do not move an inch unless I know what is happening.”
    Catherine could not help herself; she stepped forward and embraced her father, murmuring, “Oh, thank God you are uninjured.”
    He patted her shoulder but talked over her head to me. “Even my news is old, though I have been kept abreast of it. But this I know: The Armada has reached the area of the Solent and the Isle of Wight. There have been two clashes already, the first at Plymouth—where we managed to escape being trapped at anchor and got the wind gauge on them—the next at Portland Bill. Neither was conclusive. Drake captured Nuestra Señora del Rosario , laden with treasure. It did not even put up a fight. When the Spanish captain heard who confronted him, he immediately surrendered, saying that Drake was one ‘whose valor and felicity was so great that Mars and Neptune seemed to attend him.’ ”
    Drake. It did seem that, at sea at least, he was unconquerable. “Then what?” I asked.
    Hunsdon ran his hands through his thick hair. “The Armada kept going, and the English kept pursuing. So far the enemy have not been able to land. But the Isle of Wight will offer ideal conditions to do so.”
    â€œWe have strengthened it,” I said. “There’s a huge defensive ditch, and Governor George Carew has three thousand men at the ready. We have another nine thousand militia guarding Southampton.”
    â€œOur navy will do all in its power to keep them from getting into the Solent waters and thus gaining access to Wight. It will depend on whether they can thwart the Spanish from using the flood tide to their advantage.”
    â€œAnd all this is happening—now?”
    â€œI would guess at dawn. That is why it is crucial that you come with me and my soldiers to a place where the enemy cannot find you.”
    â€œWhat are you trying to say? That you are certain the Spanish will land, that we are helpless to prevent them?”
    â€œI am only saying that if they land, the road to London is easy from there.”
    â€œBut they have not landed. Not yet.”
    â€œFor the love of God, Ma’am, by the time we know they have landed you will look out your window and see Spanish helmets! I beg you, protect yourself. Do not let your soldiers and sailors risk their lives to protect yours, if you have so little care for it yourself.”
    How dare he make such an accusation? “I have more care for England than for my own life,” I retorted. “I will lay that down if it stirs up the courage of the people to resist.” I could not sit on the sidelines, removed from action. “I want to see the naval action,” I insisted. “I want to go to the south coast, where I can look out and see what is happening, rather than cower in a bunker in the Midlands!” Yes, I would go see it all for myself. This waiting, this second- and thirdhand news, was unbearable.
    â€œThat is not bravery but recklessness.”
    â€œI can be there in a day.”
    â€œNo, no! The council will never permit it.” He looked anguished. “You cannot, you must not, hazard your person. What a prize for the Spanish! If they killed you, they could display your head to all the troops. If they captured you, off to the Vatican you would go, in chains. How does this help your people?”
    â€œWilliam Wallace’s dismemberment seems to have had no ill effect on his legacy in Scotland. Quite the opposite.” I sighed. “I go nowhere tonight, in the dark. I send you back to your troops at Windsor—without me.”
    He could not order me or force me. No