Queen of This Realm - Plaidy Jean - Страница 69

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I received Melville formally and after expressing great pleasure at the news, I asked, with some concern, after the health of the Queen.

“I have been feeling unwell these last fifteen days,” I told him, “but this news has made me feel well again.”

Perhaps that was too fulsome, and Melville was too shrewd not to understand that my joy was feigned; but in these matters it is what one says which is repeated; one's thoughts remain one's own, and there can only be conjecture as to what they are.

He replied in the same vein of diplomatic falsehood: “My Queen knows that of all her friends you will be the most glad of her news. She told me to tell you that her son was dearly bought with peril of her life and that she has been so sorely handled in the meantime that she wished she had never married.”

I nodded solemnly. “The Queen has suffered cruelly and come through bravely, but so great must be her joy in this fair son that I am sure in her heart she can regret nothing that has brought him to her.”

“The Queen of Scots dearly wishes that she could see you at the christening of this boy.”

“What a joy that would be, and how I wish that my affairs might permit it! I shall send honorable ladies and gentlemen to represent me.”

It was a very amicable meeting and nothing I had said could possibly offend Mary.

Accordingly I sent the Earl of Bedford to represent me at the christening, taking with him a splendid gift from me. It was a font made all of gold and worth one thousand pounds.

“It may well be that by this time the young Prince has overgrown it,” I said jocularly. “If so, the Queen can keep it for the next.”

I appointed the Countess of Argyle, Mary's half-sister, to be my proxy, and ordered my Ambassador up there to make sure that it was known that I did not accept Lord Darnley as King of Scotland.

This so incensed Darnley that in a fit of petulance he declined to attend the baptism of his own son. I doubt anyone mourned that.

The little boy was christened Charles James but for some reason the Charles was dropped and he was always known as James—I suppose this must have been because there was a line of King Jameses in Scotland.

So Mary had her son and my Council was growing more and more restive because I had no child and it seemed likely that I never would have. The birth of little James had certainly stirred them to further action, for when next the Parliament met all parties counseled me either to marry immediately or name my successor.

These were the two subjects which I disliked most. I did not want to marry. I had made that clear enough; I would not be dominated—or put myself in a position to be—by any man. And to name one's successor was always a dangerous step to take, because in one's lifetime people started to look to that successor; there would be comparisons, and what is to come often seems more desirable than what is. Unless it is one's own child, there is certain to be trouble. So I stood out against the Parliament.

“You attend to your duties,” I told them, “and I will attend to mine.”

But they would not be silenced. They said that it was a grave matter and many of them recalled the time when I had suffered from the smallpox and had indeed been near to death and in what confusion the country had been thrown.

“I have no intention of allowing my grave to be dug while I am still alive,” I said, “nor of being bullied by hare-brained politicians who are unfit to decide these matters.”

However they would not give in and declared that if I would not marry, I must name my successor, and that only a weak princess and faint-hearted woman would fail to do so.

I was furious, but I knew this was what the people wanted, and there was one thing which I always understood: a monarch only reigns through the good will of the people. I was in a quandary, but I knew most certainly that to marry would curtail my power and to name my successor could give rise to plots against me.

They continued adamant and as I needed an extra subsidy they declared that this would only be given me if I named my successor.

Cecil understood my reasoning and I think, in his heart, agreed with me. I looked to him for help and, calling together five counselors with him, I told them that my only wish was to serve my subjects and to keep them living in prosperity and peace. As for the subsidy, half of what had been asked would suffice, for I believed that money in my subjects' pockets was as good as that in the exchequer.

I was able to persuade them that I must have this money and that it was a matter apart from the succession; and when they agreed that I should have the money without committing myself I was overjoyed and saw that by choosing my words carefully I had won a victory. But I was put out by the plain speaking of the Parliament. They would never have dared talk to my father in that way. I modeled myself on him for he had ruled with a strong hand, but in spite of his ruthlessness he had retained a hold on his subjects' affections to the end of his life.

I dismissed Parliament with a speech telling them I did not like their dissimulation when I myself was all plainness. Indeed, they might have chosen a more learned prince to rule over them but one more careful of their welfare they could not have; and I bade them beware of trying my patience again as they had recently done.

There were other troubles besides the intransigence of the Parliament.

Robert and Sussex had been enemies for a long time. In fact, almost every head of a great family was Robert's enemy. Of course he was becoming one of the richest men in the country and had made Kenilworth the finest castle. Moreover, he still believed—and so did others—that in due course I would marry him and his power would be complete.

But while I still refused to give him a share of the crown he coveted, there would still be those who would attempt to overthrow him.

The feud between Sussex and Robert became so intense that neither of them could go out without an armed guard escorting him. I threatened them and I lived in terror that something would happen to Robert. He laughed at my fears. It was Sussex I should be worried about, he said. I knew there was nothing I could do except stop their open animosity.

Meanwhile I traveled frequently. I liked to show myself to the people and they liked it too. They wanted to think of the Queen as a warm-hearted human woman, not a remote figurehead as my sister had been. When I traveled they would come from their houses to speak to me and bring me flowers and tokens of their regard and when they brought them to me I always chatted with them to show my pleasure in their gifts, asked after their health and made much of the children whom they brought to me. This was no falseness, for I loved my people; I loved children; and I took as much trouble over studying what they wanted of me as I did over state matters. They were in any case a state affair, and even more vital than those I discussed with my Council.

Recently Robert had been elected Chancellor of the University of Oxford and as I had promised to visit the University, the fact that Robert would arrange my reception and be there to greet me made me doubly anxious to go.

Robert met me at Walvicote with a deputation from the colleges. They looked very splendid in their scarlet gowns and hoods. There was one incident which made Robert smile and that was when Dr Humphreys greeted me. He was a stern puritan and like all such people of extreme views was of the impression that he was right and anyone who did not agree with him entirely was wrong. I hated extremes from both sides and I did not think they made a happy country, so I let him know what I thought, for I was never one to hold back the mild reproach—unless of course it would be detrimental to me. So I said to him: “Mr Doctor, your loose gown becomes you well. I wonder your notions are so narrow.” He was taken aback, but I smiled at him with friendliness, though I hoped he would consider what I had said.

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