Elizabeth I by Margaret George Page A

could, waving, smiling, to reassure them. If only I could reassure myself as easily. I saw no disturbances other than the milling people. The sky was overcast and it was chilly for mid-July. As we approached London, I did not see any smoke rising or hear any artillery fire.
    St. James’s was a redbrick palace used as a hunting lodge by my father. In its woodland park, it was far enough back from the river to be safer than Whitehall or Greenwich or Richmond. But as we approached, I saw that the meadows of the park, formerly home to pheasants, deer, and fox, had become a military campground. Tents spread across the grounds and columns of soldiers were drilling.
    Hunsdon met us at the gates of the palace. Relief showed on his face. He had counted on my doing the right thing. “Thank God you have arrived safely,” he said.
    I dismounted, and patted my horse’s neck. “Young Cecil here knows how to bribe me,” I said. “For a queen, better a gift than a threat.”

    I passed the afternoon watching the men marching and writing to my commanders, stressing my demand to be out with the troops, confronting Parma, rather than hidden away. Hunsdon was immovable, but the commanders of the main army, Leicester and Norris, might feel differently. While I was writing the letters, Walter Raleigh arrived.
    Never had a visitor been more welcome. “Tell me, tell me!” I commanded him before he was fully through the door.
    His fine riding clothes were covered in dust and his boots mud-caked. There was even dust in his beard. I could not read his expression, but he did not look desperate. “It is safe in the West Counties,” he said. “The Spanish were prevented from landing at Wight. Our fleet divided itself into four squadrons, led by Frobisher in Triumph , Drake in Revenge , Howard in Ark , and Hawkins in Victory , and forced them to sail past it, edging them toward the sandbars and shallows, which they barely escaped. Now they are heading toward Calais.”
    â€œThanks, thanks be to God!” I almost fell on my knees in gratitude. God noted such appreciation. But I restrained myself. “But when they reach Calais ...?”
    â€œPresumably there, or at Dunkirk on the Flanders coast, they will attempt to coordinate with Parma. But is he aware of the whereabouts of the Armada, and is he prepared to embark his troops immediately? Such a thing takes weeks of preparation.”
    â€œParma is known for his preparation,” I reminded him.
    â€œWhen he has all the facts, yes,” said Raleigh. “But does he?”
    â€œIf God is on our side, no,” I said.
    â€œThe West County militias are traveling east to help the other counties,” said Raleigh.
    â€œIt would seem your task is done, and done well,” I said. “I release you to do what you have wanted to do all along—join the fleet. If you can catch them at this point.”
    He grinned. “I will catch them, if I have to mortgage my soul to hell to do it.”
    â€œBeware what you promise, Walter,” I said. “Remember the old saying ‘He who sups with the devil must use a long spoon.’ ”
    He bowed. “I hear,” he said.

    That night my newly fashioned breastplate, helmet, and sword were delivered to me. I fancied I could still feel the heat in them from the forge. I ran my hands over the exquisitely designed pieces, then gingerly tried them on. If something of metal did not fit, there was no help for it. But they did. They fit perfectly.
    â€œYou look like an Amazon,” said Marjorie in admiration.
    â€œThat was my intent,” I said. I felt different with them on—not braver, but more invincible.

    The next morning I got my response from Leicester at Tilbury. The fort was some twenty miles downstream on the Thames, where Parma’s ships were sure to pass en route to the conquest of London. By massing the main army there, we meant to block his access to