Elizabeth I Read Online Free PDF

room at Whitehall. He had wanted not to rest but to come straight to us.
    The sight of him always made me feel safer. He had such buoyant optimism that he convinced anyone listening that his plans were not only attainable but reasonable.
    The group had expanded beyond the inner three—Burghley, Leicester, and Walsingham—to include Sir Francis Knollys; Henry Carey, the Lord Hunsdon; and John Whitgift, the Archbishop of Canterbury, as well as Charles Howard, the new lord admiral.
    â€œWe welcome you,” I told Drake. “Your feeling about our situation?”
    He looked around. He was a stocky man, barrel-chested. It was fitting for the man who had destroyed the barrel staves for the Armada last year. His sandy hair was still thick, and although his face was weathered, it looked young. He was sizing up the possible opposition in the council before he spoke. Finally he said, “We knew it would come, sooner or later. Now is the hour.”
    No argument there. “And your recommendation?” I asked.
    â€œYou know my recommendation, gracious Queen. It is always better to attack the enemy and disarm him before he gets to our shores. An offensive is easier to manage than a defensive action. So I propose that our fleet leave English waters and sail out to intercept the Armada before it gets here.”
    â€œAll of it?” asked Charles Howard. “That would leave us unprotected. If the Armada eluded you, they could slip in with no resistance.” He lifted his brows in consternation. Charles was an even-tempered, diplomatic man who could handle difficult personalities, making him an ideal high commander. But Drake was hard to control, or to appease.
    â€œWe’ll find them,” he said. “And when we do, we do not want to be short of ships.”
    Robert Dudley—Leicester in this formal setting—chafed at this. “It makes me nervous,” he said, “to send out all the ships at once.”
    â€œYou sound like an old woman!” scoffed Drake.
    â€œThen there are two of us,” said Knollys. He was notoriously cautious and scrupulous. Had he been a monk, he would have worn a hair shirt. As it was, his militant brand of Protestantism was a good substitute.
    â€œMake that three,” weighed in Burghley. William Cecil always favored a defensive strategy, wanting to keep everything within English bounds.
    â€œIt would depend on getting the accurate information about when the Armada leaves Lisbon,” said Secretary Walsingham. “Otherwise it is a fruitless, and dangerous, venture.”
    â€œI thought that was your job,” said Drake.
    Walsingham stiffened. “I do the best I can with the means at my disposal,” he said. “But there is no method for instant transmission of facts. The ships can go faster than my messengers.”
    â€œOh, I can see faraway ports,” said Drake with a laugh. “Didn’t you know that?”
    â€œI know that the Spanish credit El Draque —the Dragon—with that feat,” said Walsingham. “But they are credulous simpletons in general.”
    â€œGranted,” I said. “Enough of that. What of the other defenses?”
    â€œI would propose that we divide the fleet into two—a western squadron to guard the mouth of the Channel, an eastern one to guard the straits of Dover,” said Charles Howard.
    â€œI see what the enemy’s plan is,” announced Drake, interrupting. “The Armada isn’t coming here to fight. Parma’s army of Flanders will do that, and the Armada will escort them across the Channel. They will guard the flat barges loaded with soldiers as they make the short trip. It’s only twenty or so miles. The entire army could cross in eight to twelve hours. That’s their scheme!” He looked around, his clear eyes taking in the councillors’ doubts. “We must disable the fleet. We must prevent them docking on the shore of