Free Elizabeth I by Margaret George

wind could carry my words to them all.
    â€œMy loving people!” I cried. I waited for the words to float away. The crowd grew even quieter. “We have been persuaded by some that are careful of our safety to take heed how we committed ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery.”
    Yes, Walsingham and Burghley gave prudent advice, but ultimately self-defeating for this unique situation. To hide now would be to admit defeat. “But we tell you that we would not desire to live to distrust our faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear! We have always so behaved ourselves that under God we have placed our chieftest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and goodwill of our subjects.”
    I took a deep breath, and the words rushed out, pushed by trembling emotion, changing from royal “we” to personal “I.” “And therefore I am come amongst you, as you see at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved in the midst and heat of the battle to live or die amongst you all, to lay down for my God and my kingdom and for my people my honor and my blood even in the dust.”
    English monarchs before me had ridden into battle. Richard the Lionheart, Henry V, my own grandfather Henry VII had fought and risked their lives. I took a deep breath, filled my lungs with strength. “I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a king and of a king of England, too—and think it foul scorn that Parma or any prince of Europe should dare to invade the borders of my realm.”
    Now a shout arose, growing like a roll of thunder. When it died, I continued, “And further, I declare that I myself will take up arms; I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of your virtue in the field.”
    Now the roar grew so loud my next words, exhorting them to trust in their reward and in Leicester, my lieutenant general, were drowned. Only the final words of the sentence, “we shall shortly have a famous victory over these enemies of my God, of my kingdom, and of my people,” were audible. And with them, inexplicably, the crowd grew utterly silent.
    I descended the hill with the stillness and hush wrapped protectively around me, my heart thudding, the sea of men a blur before me.

    I kept my armor on even after the soldiers had been dismissed back to their quarters. In the officers’ pavilion, a mumbling group of leaders circled nervously around me, dropping one by one to their knees to do obeisance. Their usual hearty demeanor was subdued, and some had tears in their eyes. Would no one break this spell? For I felt I could not breathe again as a mortal until someone did.
    Jack Norris, the plain speaker, did. “Three cheers for Her Majesty, a prince and better than a king!” he cried. The cheers resounded, the glasses clinked, and we were on earth again.
    Leicester stood by my side, his eyes beholding me like a stranger. “I have known you since childhood,” he said in a low voice. “But now I know I never shall know all of you. What I heard today I never could have imagined.” He reached out for my hand, bent, and kissed it. “No one who was there will ever forget it. And I shall have copies made so all can savor it in all its meaning.”
    â€œIt is your day as well, my friend, my brother. I am grateful beyond words that this supreme moment was our moment together.” God, who had not permitted us to have any other life together but a public one, had crowned it with today’s glory and let us share it as one. Our eyes locked together and said more than our inadequate words ever could. This unique and irreplaceable moment had sealed our lifelong bond.
    Refreshments were spread out on a long table, but I had no appetite. Would I ever feel hunger again? Had the adoration and utter trust of my people satisfied all lacks within me? The rest of the company, however, fell on the